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#ryomen sukuna x y/n
risuola · 11 hours
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F. READER X SUKUNA RYOMEN // After Sukuna finally got a human body, his power was taken away and sealed within you.
cw: Sukuna is separated from Yuji and has his own body (not the heian form tho!), smut, mentions of hurt and violence, some blood and execution mentioned, reader discretion is advised — 7,3k words
a/n: ok so i've been meaning to finish this wip for so long and as i opened the file i realized i don't like the way it's written and i rewrote all 11 pages in word and now it's hopefully finished so... enjoy the usual — hurt, comfort, angst-fluff dynamics and emotional constipation ♡
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“What do you want, curse?”
A long, deep sigh escaped your lungs as you reached for a towel to dry your body off. As you stepped out of a shower, last thing you expected to see was the King of Curses himself leaning nonchalantly against the tiled wall of your bathroom, eyeing you with the wicked smile on his face. How on brand. You didn’t expect him but saying that his sudden presence surprised you would be an overstatement. You learned to expect him anytime.
“Don’t ask silly questions,” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes that in the sharp lights of your ceiling lamp glistened in blood-red. All four of them were fixed on your damp frame, on your exhausted body. It wasn’t the best day to mess with him. Not that any other day was better to deal with the most cursed curse of all curses that ever existed — this one though was particularly inconvenient.
It wasn’t longer than maybe an hour since you got home, returning from a mission that Gojo had given you, entrusting your power to rid the world of a group of curses. They were exceptionally violent, first to special grade with no doubt and you did, in fact, manage to exorcise them all, but not without your body getting painfully battered.
“You know I cannot grant your wish, don’t you? I wouldn’t give you your powers even if the world was on fire and you were the last available option to save it.”
He scoffed, again, and smirked like the pure evil that he is. You approached slowly, reaching for the robe hanging beside him, hopeful to get this conversation over sooner rather than later, but before your fingers even had a chance of grasping the soft, silky fabric of the gown, Sukuna snatched your wrist. His long, calloused fingers wrapped tightly around your forearm and he twisted it, tugging and pulling, until your back hit the wall.
Trapped between the cold tiles and his muscular frame, you winced at the sudden wave of pain that struck your body. Your reaction time lacked as in matter of split seconds both of your wrists were pinned above your head, bound by only one of his large hands and you were helpless. So devastatingly, utterly helpless against the sheer force in front of you. Your bones were fragile as twigs in his iron grip, so easy to bend and break under the pressure of the power he held and you knew it from practice that he could and he would break them if he wished to do so.
“That little mouth of yours is gonna get you in big trouble one day,” he said, a sound as low as a purr, and a grin spread across his face, as he lowered his head enough to meet your eyes. His gaze, tinged with crimson and madness, pierced your soul and if you didn’t know better, you’d say your prayers right now because the face in front of you was a face of slow and cruel death.
“I bet I can manage the trouble that is you. I appreciate the care,” you were calm, sounded calm, despite the rushing rumble of your heart against the ribcage in your chest. You were nonchalant, ignorant even, most likely very naïve and dumb, but you knew that what would be a certain demise to anyone else, for you it just wasn’t.
Born into a family of ordinary people, you were different. Gifted with the sight that allowed you to notice what was invisible to the eyes of others — the spirits. Curses. The ability formed your life, led you onto a path which eventually crossed with the man you only heard legends about. Satoru Gojo had taken you under his wing, showed you the world of jujutsu and allowed you to be yourself when everyone else wanted you to just act normal. But you were a special one. You were gifted, no, you were heavily and deeply tainted with something you couldn’t understand. Something even he couldn’t understand. There was no rank for you. No label that could be tied to your name. You were just different, with the exceptional physical fitness and peculiar, precise control over the cursed energy, you easily passed all of the tests and challenges. But your powers are dark. They are heavy, suffocating, they made other people fear you despite the kindness that showed through your warm personality.  
“I hate it when you talk down to me,” Sukuna growled. His low voice died down when he slowly pressed his lips to yours, greedily taking your breath away as his hand swiftly removed the towel from your body. A shiver ran down your spine, the sudden contact with the cold ceramics behind you made you jolt forward, involuntarily pressing your body against the wall of muscle. Ryomen’s clothed torso provided more comfort than the bone-chilling tiles. You felt him smirk against your mouth.
When Sukuna separated from Itadori’s body, materializing in his own form and threatening the entire universe with his existence and unsatiable thirst for blood and destruction, Satoru, along with some other people that you didn’t know, acted immediately. It was a sacrifice to pick you for the new vessel, it was a decision made in a rush and you’d have to think twice before agreeing to it again if you ever had a chance. Your technique allowed you to store someone else’s cursed energy so it was an easy choice for everyone involved.
The King of Curses got stripped of most of his power when he was barely awakened in his own body, and said power was then transferred to yours. Sealed inside your fragile human frame, nearly destroying you from inside out with the initial shock wave. Since that day you had to learn and accept to live with constant pain, the never-ending suffering, because locking away Sukuna’s evil was much more important than your well-being.
You were told that it’s different than what Itadori was to the king. The curse created a space for itself inside Yuji’s soul, keeping his own powers contained to only himself and you — you had his cursed energy constantly, unstoppably racing through your body, poisoning your veins with every pump of your heart and it hurt. It burned like a hellfire was spreading throughout your circulatory system and since that day, your life had become a curse itself. Your sleep has gotten worse, you were tired and for the first few weeks you were barely able to move. It felt like the cells were tearing themselves apart inside you, like everything was in a state of never-ending volcanic eruption. It was agonizing, torturous. You felt like dying. Every day. Luckily, Ieiri was able to develop a medicine that taken every day, calmed everything down enough to make it bearable.  
You got used to it, as the year passed by, but what you also had to get used to, was the owner. Ryomen Sukuna visited you so often that he partially lived in your apartment, patiently torturing you with his presence until you gave him what he was rightfully entitled to. He didn’t even consider covering a part of your rent, asshole. He couldn’t kill you — your death would take all of his powers down to your grave with you — but it didn’t stop him from trying his luck with everything that wasn’t enough to take your life.
You remember the first attempts, the first showcases of his annoyance. It was a shame, it was pathetic to Sukuna and he felt humiliated to get caught in such a simple trick, to allow himself to not have his guard up from the very first breath he took once he separated from the brat. All of that pent up anger, he threw on you and the many trials of violence and brutality had taught him that your tolerance for pain was high. And you fought back. Over time, and after many weeks you spent inside the hospital bed underneath the precise care of Shoko, Sukuna had realized that no amount of beating and torture will force you into obedience — as annoying as the realization was — so he changed his ways and switched to haunting you. Taunting you with his constant presence. Able to enter your apartment at any given moment, the curse made sure you were never too comfortable in your own home. You grew to live with that too.
“Hurts?” Sukuna grinned, watching the wince that twisted your otherwise attractive features the very moment his fingers dug into your side. With sadistic pleasure he studied the way your brows creased and your eyes fell shut. The rumble of your heart was evident in the silence of the bathroom and even more evident were the very palpable fractures of your ribs underneath his palms. “Want me to stop?” He mused, griping the injury tighter and the cruel wave of pain almost knocked the air out of your lungs.
“You are charming as always, curse,” you scoffed, forcing some oxygen into your system and cussing yourself internally for showing the pain, for giving him the clearest indication of your weakened state. For giving him something to use against you. “It hurts, yes. I’ve had a rough day, I’d like to rest.”
“Then I will take you to bed,” he let go of both your hands and ribs, scooping you up and carrying you towards the bedroom. Your bare body seemed tiny against the tall, muscular built of him. Too fragile to be so stubborn and blame it on said fragility, but Sukuna out of habit put you down onto the plush sheets with gentleness so uncharacteristic of him.
“You know I can’t give you what you want,” you looked at him, your gaze portraying the tiniest sliver of hope that finally he’ll understand and give up, but giving up wasn’t a phrase present in king’s vocabulary. He’d rather die than let go and both of you knew it. “I’m sure you can tell I’m exhausted, but if you make me, I will fight.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, woman,” he grinned, allowing his two pairs of eyes to run down your naked body, silently admiring the petite frame that was capable of holding all of his strength. “I wouldn’t force you to fight when you’re already so beaten. What do you think I am, a monster?”
“Not a monster. You’re a curse, which is worse.” A shrug of your shoulders sent a jolt of pain throughout your body and it took everything from you to not wince in front of him again. You reached for a t-shirt you use to sleep in — a garment stolen from Itadori, big enough to almost be a dress, comfortable cotton that wrapped you with softness and warmth. Sukuna knows your body. He’s seen it naked, touched and tasted it many times and the piercing gaze of all four of his eyes on your skin was something you grew to accept, but you wanted to get dressed anyway. Sukuna was never a gentle lover and your broken ribcage wouldn’t take his roughness too well.
"It sounds so lovely in your mouth," he chuckled, taking the blouse from your hands and tossing it carelessly away. "Who said you can dress up?"
"Who said you can give me orders?"
"Am I not the king?"
"Of curses, yes. I'm not a curse, your jurisdiction does not apply to me."
“Gods, you need to shut up.”
There was only one thing Sukuna grew to enjoy a sliver bit more than torturing you and that was having sex — though he dismayed the thought of such primal pleasures taking over his urges. It felt foreign at first, as if his own body tried to betray him by showing interest in a simple, unworthy human just as you, but he was able to reason it within his own, conflicted mind. Intimacy created a leak. A leak of his own power seeping through you, an unknown weakening of your defenses and Sukuna was able to, quite literally, fuck his powers out of you, absorb it back into his own form, feel more like himself for just a little moment.
Other thing is — and he hated it the most — that he genuinely enjoyed the time in bed with you. It was pleasurable, too pleasurable almost and Ryomen actively dismissed the idea of you stripping him off his cold judgement, the clarity of his thoughts, but he loved it also. Every soft whimper and whisper of his name that ever slipped through your lips made his ego grow, made him want more and although he hated the seal, he admired the shell you wore around your soul and if there was ever anyone he wished to be intimate with, it was you. You held his power in the body he was able to touch, to taste, to have, and over time Sukuna grew to respect it, in his own twisted way. Over hundreds of years he’s been around, he had seen people brave — or stupid — enough to try and contain his power, to ingest one of the cursed objects his soul was fragmented into and then, he watched them die in pain and suffering just from a small fraction of it. You were able to hold it, agony or not.
You, on the other hand, had no clue what exactly was causing the seal to leak, you couldn’t tell why was it happening when he was inside you and not when he was trying to beat the life out of you. Why breaking your bones never let a drop of his energy to slip from under your control and the intimacy made you lose it just like that? You couldn’t tell, but just the fact that Sukuna’s able to regain any amount of his legacy through intercourse should be enough of a reason to never, ever let him touch you, but oh well. Elders didn’t like you anyway and the cursed energy released was so insignificant it wouldn’t really cause much trouble — that’s at least how you reasoned with yourself. Sometimes you wondered if the small boost was even worth all the trouble for the king, but it wasn’t hard to notice he was clearly enjoying just being close to you.
“Oh, do I?” You questioned him; dared, and he took you on a challenge, pressing his lips to yours. You whimpered and pressed your open palms to his clothed chest when he climbed on top of you, hovering above your much smaller frame and allowing his shadow and evil aura to swallow you and you flinched. Your senses, however trained, were always on high alert when he was so close. It was reflexive, a first response that screamed, begged, to get away from him, to run and don’t look back but you had to learn pushing it down. It’s been only few weeks since you managed to fix and patch up the hole his fist once made in one of your walls and putting up a fight right now would certainly damage your apartment yet again. Not to speak about yourself.
“You never know when to shut up,” he purred against your lips and moved, following the edges of your jawline and down your neck, spreading wet bites and marks along your delicate skin there.
“Sukuna, please, not today,” you whimpered, pleading and gasping just slightly, feeling his long, calloused fingers already finding their place between your thighs, teasing the awaiting bud of joy and pleasure that, unlike you, was very excited for the events unraveling.
“Why not?” He asked, letting go the sensitive skin right above your pulse and admiring the reddish, swollen patch he left there. “You’re so wet, I cannot ignore it.” You could feel his grin against your shoulder, hear it in the mocking yet proud tone of his voice because he was proud of himself. He knew how to push your buttons, which ones to push first and how to navigate his lips and fingers across your curves and hollows to make the most out of it because truth is, ever since he got his own human-like body, he was able to appreciate physical pleasures that before that, he couldn’t care less about. “Aren’t you ashamed? A sorcerer, spreading your legs for the king of curses? Moaning my name instead of spells, digging your nails into my skin instead of knives?”
“Aren’t you ashamed? The King of Curses himself, getting so hard and worked up for a simple human?” You replied with a mock underlying in your tone and he laughed.
“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”
“You did,” you confirmed, nodding and pulling his blouse up, forcing him to undress and he complied. His covered in black markings skin, stretched over a strong musculature never failed to make you gasp in awe. Sukuna is an attractive man, slightly reminiscing you of Itadori due to him being the last of his hosts, but also completely different. The aura is different, the height and body shape. There’s nothing of Yuji’s kindhearted, warm nature — Ryomen is a menace. His eyes are narrowed, knowing, proud. He’s arrogant, he’s full of himself, he’s spiteful and uncaring and sometimes you wondered how he managed to coexist with the society for a year now, with his temper so cold and obnoxious.
“So behave,” he smirked, pushing your knees apart and slipping two of his thick fingers inside you. He worked them easily through the slick, warm entrance and stretched you with slow movements. A brief attempt of foreplay, careless towards the discomfort his hands managed to cause you, but he loved it — he loved to feel how wet you could get for him, he loved to see you all worked up, blushed and flushed, squirming underneath his very touch. “Behave or it’ll hurt more than necessary.”
“It’s going to hurt anyway, there’s no way around it,” you breathed out, your tone quite blank as you tried to brace yourself to feel every broken bone in your ribcage. Truth is that breathing was causing you problems and you were actively pushing the petrifying thought of rough sex deep down your thoughts. “I’m not good at behaving.”
“Hard to disagree,” the curse chuckled, running the tip of his tongue along the length of your neck and it took him a second to replace his soaked-up digits with his rock-hard member. Low, animalistic and gravelly purr escaped his throat, as his length got into the tight embrace of muscles inside you. A velvety warmth mixed with sharp, stinging feeling of your nails digging into the skin of his back made his mind go blank for a moment. You run your fingers across his body, adding new marks to the constellation of his own and he took in the way your breath hitched in your chest, the soft thud of your heart that he felt underneath his lips as he kissed your neck, nipping and sucking spots onto the otherwise clean surface. Hot waves of euphoria rushed through him, adrenaline pumped inside his veins and were it not for your injuries, he would be pounding into you relentlessly by now, pushing you above and beyond your limits, mercilessly taking your breath away time after time, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and basking in the exhilarating feeling of you taking him in. If not for the bones that he so clearly can feel beneath his fingertips, the fractures sharp against your skin over your ribcage, he would be relentlessly rushing towards orgasm and ecstasy. This time, he refrained. This time, he decided to be curious, to see how the softness you always tell him about tastes on his own tongue.
Sukuna’s movements were slow, odd but deep and heavy. Every nerve, every sensitive spot in your entire body was hit and abused again and again and again. His lips kept gluing themselves to your mouth, your neck, shoulders. He was kissing your chest, nipping at your skin, making you heave, and moan, and whimper. He was taking you all in, observing, listening, savoring and it didn’t take long for the heat to pool below your stomach. A coil of tight pleasure, a knot begging to snap open and undo itself. The man was all over you, his hips worked in a rhythmical melody that’s got you lose your focus, your train of thoughts. It cleared your mind — a blank space that now was filled only with him and the intense, addicting way his hips moved.
You trembled.
Your thighs were shaking, your breath cut short.
You’ve had your fair share of intercourses with the King of Curses — each of them pleasurable in its own way. He has his ways of exhausting you, of pushing your limits, overstimulating you. He experimented, dominated and forced you into submission one way or another. Sukuna is no stranger to pain and violence and throughout the year you’ve got to know all colors of his palette but nothing, not once, resembled the tenderness he showed you this time.
“Suku–ahh—” you panted, cried out, gripping his biceps tightly.
“That’s right, let it out,” he grinned, demanded and moved his hips with more precision, just a little more force to hit that one spot he knew does it for you and it stole a breath from you. Your back arched, despite the broken bones, your head went blank as the groundbreaking wave of pleasure washed over you. The tight ring of muscles kept squeezing and contracting and Sukuna groaned along with you. He was leaking, his balls heavy and aching for release that he forcefully postponed, greedy to take more from you before he gives you any of his.
He pulled out, almost completely — a false promise of a breather — and then pushed back, fully, completely. His body moves more frantically, more rushed and yet, the compassion rushed in his veins, stripping the thrusts off their usual violence.
Odd. Addicting.
The first bliss was soon followed by two more and your third climax was his first. He became sloppier, hurried as he chased the sweet, sweet release and you tangled your fingers into his soft, blush-colored hair pulling him in and kissing his breath away. You couldn’t focus and nether could he. Nothing but the immense pleasure of the act, nothing before and nothing after, just here and now. Your body and his, in your apartment, in your bed. And when he came, he drew blood from your lower lip, catching it between his sharp fangs.
You let out a shaky breath, way more tired than before and yet, you smiled softly when Sukuna collapsed onto the bed beside you — the last bits of reason that made him shift his body to the side so that he wouldn’t put his weight on top of your fragile frame. He had this infuriating and oddly attractive smirk plastered onto his face and you knew he’s listening — to your calming breath and the harsh thuds of your heartbeat rumbling inside your chest.
Sukuna felt content. Utterly and completely satisfied and what’s got him surprised, he also felt his cells swell with power. The amount that leaked, due to unknown reasons, was incomparable to what he’s ever been able to absorb before. He couldn’t tell if it was your exhaustion, the wounds and damage your body was covered with or just the way he took you this time, but he knew for a fact that there was more. He also noticed that this time, unlike any other, he was completely abandoning the idea of cursed energy. It’s as if it entered his body on its own, without him actively taking it in, all while he was completely lost in the moments of pleasure, lost in you.
A grin on his face only got bigger, the feeling of might overwhelming him for a moment. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to destroy and kill. To feel like his old, superior self, to force his way through other people’s suffering. It felt ecstatic, to have a part of himself back, to feel the strength surging through him and—
—that’s until he looked at you again and he realized there was a scent of blood in the air. A metallic hint of something that was very wrong with you, something that he never thought he would miss since he loved to be surrounded by blood. But you were quiet about it. Breathing fast, with a hand pressed to your side and your eyebrows furrowed — a clear giveaway of the pain that slowly returned to you once the euphoric aftershocks wore off.
“You’re bleeding, huh?” He more so stated than asked, gathering himself up and gently, carefully slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and the other around your back. Once he lifted your worn off body, not without a quiet wince slipping from your mouth, the red, vibrant stain revealed itself from where you were resting. “That wound was there before, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it was,” you replied, weakly, leaning the side of your head towards his flexing bicep and clenching your fingers around your fractured mid-section.
The shower, hot and steamy, wasn’t the most pleasant of all, but it did wonders to wash away the sticky residues from your thighs and the blood and sweat that mixed atop of your skin. Sukuna’s large hand pressed itself onto the wound, forcing it to stop bleeding — trying, at least.
“Why didn’t you heal it?”
“I didn’t have enough power to do so. I just barely managed to close it, and—” You trailed off, feeling dizzy. It was getting to you, ridding you of basic abilities to communicate and the king caught up immediately.
Water got turned off and he dried you quickly, superficially. You felt the towel being run over your limbs and pressed around your torso where the most damage was. Then he wrapped a bandage around you, tight and precise, hopeful to get the bleeding in control before he took you back under the sheets — with clean underwear on and after he flash-changed the sheets into clean ones.
Your battery was so low, you felt like you’re gonna pass out any moment.
“It was amazing,” you told him, once his weight dented the mattress and his body heat reached your cold skin. Usually, you wouldn’t feed into his ego, it was already way too big and swollen, but you figured he deserved to hear a praise after he restrained himself from fucking you to death.
“Rest,” he ordered, harsh and dry but he couldn’t hide the little smirk that tugged on the corner of his mouth. He acted like he didn’t care of what you just said, but he did, and he’ll remember it.
With hopes that sleep will solve your health issues, Sukuna watched as you drifted away and with deep dismay he noticed that the white bandages that hug your torso were slowly and steadily turning red. Your face was in a constant frown, you were visibly in pain and getting feverish, if he wasn’t mistaken, and he cursed his own self for caring about such things. You were a strong woman — despite all of his insults and cruel words he had told you during the past year — and he had never, not once, saw you in such a pathetic, vulnerable state but then, maybe if he stayed with you more often instead of leaving the moment he was done fucking his powers out of you, he would know better. Even so, you never complained and Sukuna isn’t stupid, he knows how much trouble his cursed energy causes you, how much pain and everyday agony you have to push through and yet, he never heard you whine about it.
King’s hands moved on their own, and when they touched your cold body, the healing process began. He watched the dark bruise around your ribcage fade into nothing and observed how the fractured bones underneath the skin moved and shifted into their original places. The blood stopped soaking the bandages and once rid of them, Ryomen watched how your skin knitted back together, leaving nothing but a pale, pinkish scar. Every last bit of his power he put into the reverse cursed technique to repair as much damage as he could. Then, with his arm around your waist, he fell asleep next to you.
* * *
Waking up to a man in your bed wasn’t exactly something you’re used to — even if said man is Ryomen Sukuna who’s an often guest between your sheets. He never stays because he never cares enough to stay, not to mention staying in a tight embrace. You found yourself snuggled close to his side, your head resting on his muscular chest while his arm was wrapped around you, making sure you’re not going anywhere. His hand was resting exactly where the pain should be and with shock you realized there’s nothing — no hurt, no bandages that you have a dull memory of being wrapped in.
You didn’t heal yourself. You were too tired.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sukuna’s voice stopped you, when you made an attempt to pull yourself away from him. He sounded lower than usual, raspier and unsettlingly not evil.
“Why are you still here?” You asked, running your hand over the bumps of muscles on his abdomen. “I’m so confused. I’m not togging to complaint though.”
“You’d try, silly woman,” he grunted, amused and squeezed your side more securely. “What the hell did you do to me, huh?”
“I don’t know, but I appreciate the healing,” you teased.
“Don’t ever talk about it.”
Laughing, you forced a groan of annoyance out of him — the kind of groan that let you know you're treading on thin ice and one thoughtless move could break it, one word not thought through enough could make you fall into the pit of cold and ice.
"What, you want me to forget that the King of Curses used his hard-earned power to heal a mere sorcerer? Not a chance."
"If that mere sorcerer bleeds to death, my power will be gone as well. I had a reason for it."
"If you say so, Sukuna," still amused, you pulled away from his embrace and got up from the bed, nearly dodging a slap he aimed at your ass.
That morning, you had breakfast with the King of Curses, bringing this wonderful adventure with him to an unexpected end. Afterwards, he kissed your breath away and left you confused as ever.
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Several weeks had passed until Ryomen once again entered your field of view. Unfortunate.
You had a day off, enjoying it in a café with your friends, seeping carelessly on a latte with the almond milk and a dash of honey. It was a beautiful day, warm too, and you thought nothing would mess this up but life proved you wrong when the curse stormed in, steaming with rage and madness and — call it intuition — it was a dead giveaway of why he showed up.
“Such a great day, huhhh–“ you wailed quietly, lifting your cup from the table before his fist broke the wood in half. It wasn’t hard to notice how absolutely furious he was and it made you both curious and alarmed.
“Give. Me. Something.” The man growled lowly, frustrated and outraged and you couldn’t recall any time you ever saw him that infuriated.
“I can’t, you kno–“ you tried to tell him, but before you even got the full sentence out, he already had his fingers wrapped around your neck. A sharp sound of glass shattering accompanied the quiet yelp you let out as he yanked you up and slammed your back onto the nearest wall. You felt your feet losing their contact with the ground.
“Give me something.” He repeated, his voice so low and menacing that it sent shivers down your spine. If felt as if you were speaking with death. He was so close, you felt his uneven breath on your face, the crimson of his eyes seemed to glow. “Give me something or I’ll fuck you right here and now to get it.”
The rage in his eyes, the absolute storm of bloodlust, you wondered what has gotten him so worked up. King of Curses had a short temper, yes. He was often annoyed, angry, of course, but such fury wasn’t typical to his character and you knew that if you refuse right now, he will surely go through with the threat he made and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You’ll just get hurt.
“Put me down,” you tried, speaking calmly and wrapping your fingers around his forearm, hoping to give him a hint before your windpipe was fully crushed. Your heart was racing inside your chest, you heard the pulse in your ears, felt it in your head and neck. Fear wasn’t the most familiar feeling for you — you’ve grown accustomed to Sukuna’s violence, his tantrums and threats, his forceful ways of getting what he wanted and you also got to know him enough to know this kind of rage wasn’t caused by someone stepping on his toe or taking the last package of his favorite snack. This wasn’t caused by someone looking at him from the wrong angle. This was pure. Primal. “What happened?”
“Give me my power,” he said again, terrifyingly calm and he lowered you down so that your feet reached the floor again, but instead of letting go of your throat, he squeezed it even tighter, pressing his entire body against you. “I’m asking for the last time.”
Everyone present in the café — those who didn’t turn tail the second Sukuna raged inside — were too stunned to react, too petrified to intervene and you couldn’t blame them. The King of Curses, even stripped of most of his cursed energy, was still a threat not to be ignored. Still a menace, a mischievous demonic creature feared by curses, sorcerers and now also regular people that had a misfortune to meet him. The very sound of his name made all of them tremble in terror. You didn’t expect anyone to help you.
“I can’t breathe,” you struggled the words out, whispering on top of the very limited air that flew barely between your upper and lower parts of the respiratory systems. Sukuna growled but loosened the death grip he had on your neck, allowing the oxygen once again into your lungs. Then, you made a mistake. Then, you decided to trust him. “I hope you remember that I will be executed for this. Make it worth it.”
* * *
Later that day, deep into the night you woke up to a sudden slam of the doors. The very familiar, dark aura filled in your otherwise calm apartment and it took no effort to realize who just invaded your space. There were only two people brave enough to enter your home so recklessly and it wasn’t hard to tell them apart.
“Stay in bed,” Sukuna said once you pulled yourself up from the pillows and the mattress and he headed straight into your bathroom. “I need to wash up.”
You exhaled and lay back down, taking in the soft, monotone sound of the shower. You couldn’t tell why he was there, why did he come to your place and act like he owns it but frankly, you couldn’t care less right now about how he behaved. It somehow put you at ease that he decided to show up after what happened before. After what led you to face consequences you wished you wouldn’t have to face.
Few slurs broke up the hushed hum of water and soon it became quiet. Ryomen showed up in your bedroom just few moments after — partially dried, fully naked, with the black markings that adorned his pale skin on full display. Your eyes run down his silhouette, taking in the view no one else had a chance to experience and you let out an exhale. The man ruffled his hair with a towel, an attempt of making it less dripping, and casually slipped under the covers next to you, as if it was his place all along. You spared him the comments about how comfortable he had suddenly become within the confines of your apartment and waited patiently to hear whatever he had to say.
“There was a special curse user earlier,” he began nonchalantly, as he settled against the pillows, supporting his head with both of his arms crossed below it. “He was after you, wanted to suck out everything you have sealed inside.”
“I heard.”
“He wanted to, to quote him, fuck you dry of my power, kill you and make me watch as he became me. That was the plan, to take away the title of king.”
“So, it was about your reputation?” You questioned, letting out a deep sigh and turned away from him. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes piercing a hole through your back.
“Do you think I need to worry about my reputation?” Sukuna growled annoyed and you hummed softly, neither confirming nor denying.
“I guess not.”
You were tired. Exhausted. That was supposed to be your day off, your time to rest and reset but what it turned out to be, was just a disaster. You spent hours arguing with elders of Jujutsu community, trying over and over again to protect yourself, to defend your own life against the accusations that were being thrown at you from every angle and even Gojo couldn’t do much after you willingly released Sukuna’s power from the seal within you. It was bound to happen, you thought you were ready for it ever since it was mentioned for the first time. You were scheduled for execution as it seemed to be safer for the world to kill you, and king’s powers along, than to spare your life and risk it getting out of you, but Satoru then intervened, forcing the date to be postponed. You were high in ranks and he swore you’re capable of keeping the force safe and you did just that for the last twelve months. That’s until you decided to break all the rules and bend to Sukuna’s will.
It wasn’t just that. The cursed user revealed a way to loosen up the lock that held the danger away from the outside world, that he made it known that intimacy was a way to go, your future was decided already. With the knowledge out and about, the elders came to realization that in time there will be more curses or curse users that will come to you to get a taste of that sweet, sweet power and if they won’t do it, Sukuna will. Telling them that the amounts are insignificant didn’t help your case either — those pricks focused more on how you know that rather than what that meant. A diseaster.
“Now what’s wrong, huh? I didn’t kill anybody.”
King threw an arm around your waist, turning his body towards you and supporting his hand on his elbow, to see you better. He pulled you into his chest, as if he wished to hide you completely inside his embrace, to protect you from whatever was weighing on your mind and you’d be very surprised if not for the turmoil now raging inside your head.
“My execution has been decided,” you spat out quietly and felt how every muscle in Sukuna’s body tensed significantly. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow night.”
“What execution? I didn’t kill anyone. I got rid of a fucking curse user. I even saved a little brat. Unintentionally, but still.”
“I know, Sukuna, and I am grateful. I really am, but–“
“But what?”
“They found out that sex creates an opening and it just got worse and worse from that moment. They wouldn’t listen and what could I even say to make it sound better. They already figured out that I’m sleeping with you which is enough of a reason to kill me.”
“And what did the jerk in the blindfold say?”
“There’s not much he can do at this point,” you sighed, mindlessly smoothing little circles over the hand that was keeping you close. “From what I know, Gojo stayed in Jujutsu high to discuss it further, but yeah… it’s tough.”
"Should I talk to them?"
"I'm not sure if you insulting or threatening them, could help in any way."
"So what, you expect me to agree to your death?"
"I've thought about it," you said quietly. "God, I'm naive, but I think I'll give you your power back before they execute me. I just hope you don't burn the world to ashes."
"Y/n, for fuck's sake, screw that power. I want you to live. I acted before because that bastard wanted to hurt you. I don't care about my reputation; I don't need to. Sure, it pisses me off that I was robbed of my energy," he babbled, rushing his words. You knew that he wasn't the best at explaining emotions and that he would rather die than admit that he cared for someone. "I need you alive."
"Did the King of Curses perhaps fell..."
"Don't push it," he snapped and you chuckled.
"You two are soooo cute."
Gojo’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, as he materialized out of nowhere, nearly stopping your heart in the process. Last thing you expected was having him witness you in bed, with your back pressed to the very naked Sukuna and you should’ve seeing that coming because you knew Satoru will step by once he’s done negotiating. While you were shocked, the curse didn’t even flinch. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
"Satoru...", you lifted yourself up on one of your elbow. "Why are you here?"
"I come with good news," a grin spread across Gojo's face. "You will not be executed tomorrow. They took into consideration the fact that Sukuna helped a child and no one was hurt. Well, I forced them to consider it."
"It was an accident," Ryomen muttered in his own defense, but you glared at him, clearly ordering him to shut up. Oddly enough, this time he complied with no remarks.
"Happy little accidents, as they call it," Satoru giggled and spread his arms. "You're safe. Don't mess around too much for a while though. I'm talking to the curse."
Sukuna rolled his eyes, all four, expressing the particular inconvenience of the request, but you knew he'd tone himself down for as long as necessary.
"I can't believe you convinced them for the second time," you fell back into the pillow, relieved.
"What can I say, I have a strong personal charm," Satoru bowed theatrically. "So, are you two together or do you just fuck?"
"We can discuss that some other time, right?"
"Oh yeah, right. Stay safe, kids!" saying that, Gojo disappeared and none of you even made an attempt to address how he called the thousand years old king a kid.
You let out a deep breath — the one you held for god knows how long — and felt the stress finally taking its toll on you. An exhaustion, sleepiness, anxiety – all of those came crawling at you at once.
"You're so tensed up," Sukuna purred, placing a small kiss on the side of your neck and he wouldn’t say it, but you could tell from the way his body felt against yours, that the tension left him as well. "You can relax now."
"Right," you muttered, sighing and with the encouragement of his hand, you turned to his face and immediately met his lips. He kissed you like a starved man, with a hand on the back of your neck. Murmuring, you surrendered to his touch, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth, to forget about the cruel and cold world around you and to indulge in whatever that was that you had with Sukuna. “We can relax now.”
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253 notes · View notes
madaqueue · 19 hours
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Good Boy
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pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader
themes/content: sub boyfriend sukuna, soft dom reader. language, smut. bondage, handjob, light choking, praise, pet names (baby, sweetheart), mentions of degradation. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.5k
a/n: subby sukuna that's it send tweet
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“Y’know I’m only doing this for you, right?” Sukuna huffs.
“I know,” you smile from behind him.
Leaning back, you admire your work: the pink rope tied around his wrists holds his arms in place behind his back, with matching ones stationing him on his knees, feet tucked beneath his thighs. His cock stands fully erect, a drop of precum beginning to form along his slit before you’ve even truly begun.
The sight of him makes your heart flutter. “You look so pretty, ‘Kuna,” you purr, sitting up to place a kiss on his cheek.
His skin is warm under your lips, flushing a slight red. “Aw, are you blushing?” you tease gently.
“No,” he scoffs, turning his head away from you. “Just get on with it already, woman.” “Gimme a second sweetheart, I gotta get you warmed up first,” you hum as your eyes cover his form.
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at just how innocent your boyfriend looks. It’s funny, almost, the way his muscles poke through the knots, tattoos coursing over his rough skin that’s now covered in a dainty pink. Everything about him looks so sweet, so soft, so submissive.
Normally he was the dominant one, demanding power and control in every aspect of his life, and sex was no different. Of course he treated you with care, but sometimes he showed it by fucking you harshly, ravenously, leaving proof of his love across your body in the form of scratches and bruises, a physical manifestation of his unadulterated adoration for you.
In fact, these ropes had originally been bought after a night when the skin of your neck was covered in teeth marks and hickeys from an hour of him teasing you. When you felt him nip at your chest, you couldn’t help squirming in his grasp.
“If you don’t sit still I’m gonna have to tie you down,” he muttered, moving lower to place his mouth around your hardened nipple, sucking on it between his teeth.
Unfortunately his words had the opposite effect, making you writhe even more against his thigh from where he held you in his lap.
“Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckled at your reaction. “Pathetic little sluts like you need to be tied up to behave.”
He bought them the next day.
But, in the mix of all the other toys and gadgets you two rotated through, they had been tossed to the back of the closet and forgotten, unused, until now.
The idea popped into your mind a few days ago while you were scrolling on your phone and a video suddenly caught your eye: in the middle of a bed was a man with his arms and legs bound as a woman moved around him. She treated him softly but firmly, her fingers trailing over his body. You felt your heart rate pick up at the sight, warmth beginning to pool in your stomach as you watched. Seeing the trust, the control, between them sparked something in you.
Unsurprisingly, Sukuna was completely opposed to the idea when you brought it up.
“I’m not some fucking piece of meat to be tied up and toyed with,” he grumbled from the couch.
“Oh, but when you wanted to do it with me it’s fine?” you questioned sarcastically.
Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”
“Please, ‘Kuna? Just once?” you begged, using the nickname you knew pulled at his heartstrings, the one that always made him give in to your desires.
After a moment of silence, he sighed. “Fine,” he conceded, “just once.”
Although he’d never admit it, the idea made his head spin, his cock beginning to strain at his pants just from hearing you say the words. After all, he’s not the type who does something just for the sake of pleasing others; when he agreed, you both implicitly knew there was a part of him that was curious, too.
As he’s perched on the bed in front of you, he finally gets to have his interest satiated.
Returning your mind to the present you settle in behind him, resting your head on his shoulder as your lips trail down his neck. The soft sensation of your breath tickles his skin, making him shiver despite the heat his body gives off.
Making your way down his arms, you trace the lines of his tattoos before following the pattern down his chest. Reaching his thighs, your thumbs draw gentle circles into his muscles.
“Are you gonna fuckin’ touch me or what?” he growls, moving his hips to try and coax you closer to his aching cock.
You hush him, lips still pressed into the space above his collarbone. “Patience, baby.”
He shuts his mouth momentarily at the nickname. Even though he would always deny it, some part of him cherishes the sweet things you call him, holding onto every ounce of praise or affirmation that leaves your lips.
The honeyed whispers, the airy complements, make his heart flutter and gaze soften. He relaxes slightly, dropping his shoulders through a displeased grunt.
Your palms travel his body, moving up his thighs before traveling to his back, trailing kisses along his spine. He shudders at the softness of your lips, the warmth of your hands, as you cover every inch of him, his skin left tingling wherever you touch.
Right now, the key to getting him into the right headspace is to be gentle, loving, the exact opposite of how Sukuna normally is.
Knowing how impatient he gets, you are languid and methodical as you trace the ropes between your fingers. When you reach the ones tied over his wrists, he shifts again, tugging against the restraints.
“Y’know I could break out of this if I wanted to.”
“I know,” you hum, “but you won’t. Because you’re gonna be good for me, right?”
He pauses - he doesn’t want to demean his own strength, but internally he battles the desire to agree with you. He needs you to know that he’s better than this, obviously, but there’s a part of him, buried deep down, that needs to make you happy.
“Good boys use their words,” you prod in his silence.
He takes in an uneven breath as he fights a losing mental battle.
“I’ll…I’ll be good,” he mutters, gaze shifting down to avoid letting you see how dizzy the words make him feel.
Smiling, you place another kiss to his cheek, the action sending sparks through his body.
Your fingertips continue covering the rest of his skin, one moving down his legs as the other runs up his stomach, following the grooves of his abs. When you reach the front of his neck your hand loosely wraps around it, applying a gentle pressure to either side of his carotid.
Before this you had never dared to choke him, and even though this could barely be classified as such, something about it drives him insane. He feels immediately lightheaded, despite knowing that you didn’t hold on for nearly long enough to physically have that effect.
No, it was something else.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” he spits, trying to cover the moan that threatens to escape his throat.
His words nearly get a rise out of you, but knowing that’s his intention, you calm your breathing before you respond.
“Watch your language, sweetheart,” you scold softly, “you wouldn’t want me to have to gag you, now would you?”
The idea makes his heart race in panic. Thinking about being gagged doesn’t worry him, he realizes - no, the dread in his stomach is there for a different reason. Is he afraid of disappointing you?
Letting out an unsteady sigh, he shakes his head no. “M’sorry,” he mumbles.
You hold back a grin at his words, your heart beginning to race in excitement. Sukuna has never, ever, said sorry for something like this before.
It was rare that he needed to apologize for things, both of you knowing and respecting each other’s limits well. However, on the few occasions when he did something like leaving hickeys in more visible places than you liked, he would just brush it off with a laugh. “You didn’t really expect me to hold back when your cunt is that good, did you?” he’d tease with a smack of your ass.
Hearing him now, you can tell something in him has switched.
“That’s my good boy,” you coo, placing another kiss to his neck.
Hearing the name, a sound shockingly close to a deep whimper leaves his lips.
Your touch is so light, your lips so soft, your words so sweet, he wants to just melt, giving everything into you. Something about being physically held in place like this makes him feel safe, dependent; despite the tight ropes against his skin the only thing he can feel is you.
His head is spinning, thoughts getting fuzzy as you trace over his body, your gentle touch igniting flames of desire beneath his skin.
As you continue drawing your fingertips along him, the teasing slowly becomes too much, his mind clouded with the need for more as you feed him soft praises. His hips buck off the bed, his cock straining against the ties as precum begins to roll down his length.
“Please just fucking touch me,” he groans, voice so low it’s nearly a whisper.
“Just one second, baby,” you purr, trying to keep him calm.
Sukuna has always been demanding, wanting things done his way exactly when he wants it. As such, you know you have to be careful, balancing his desires with your control, placating his needs with tenderness.
A smirk crosses your face as you think up a way to satisfy both.
Holding your hand out in front of his mouth, you open your palm. “Spit,” you softly command.
His eyes widen, barely even noticeably, as he processes your words. There is absolutely no fucking way he’s about to do this, and the fact that you would even consider making him is foolish. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of your request, but before he can, he’s leaning forward, body moving on its own as he parts his lips, allowing droplets of saliva to pool into your hand.
What the fuck happened to him?
Pleased at his compliance, you smile. “Good boy, Sukuna.”
Your words make him nearly shake in anticipation, his mind dazed as your hand finds its way to his cock. Using the mixture of spit and precum you stroke his length, thumb twirling his flushed tip.
Another guttural groan leaves his throat as his eyes flutter shut, leaning his head back against you. He should be embarrassed, ashamed of how absolutely pathetic he’s being, but all he can think about is how good your hand feels wrapped around him.
Grasping at any last shred of control, he weakly thrusts up into you, his movements limited by the restraints
Bringing your free hand over to his hips, you hold him in place. “Stay still for me, okay baby?” you hum.
Letting go of everything, he gives in. His motions still as you continue stroking him, his mouth hanging open as he takes in uneven breaths.
Normally when he’s fucking you his thoughts are hurried, almost frenzied, as he plans how he’s going to ravage you. He taunts you, making you beg, soaking in every sound you release as he drills into you.
But now, his mind is quiet. The only thing he can focus on is the sound of your voice, your words of praise echoing through his entire body, amplifying his desire to please you, his need to be good for you.
Continuing your motions, the wet sound of your hand sliding up and down him fills your bedroom, his cock twitching in your palm as you glide over his length. From the way his chest begins to heave with each breath you can tell he’s approaching his release, his eyes screwed tightly shut in pleasure.
“Are you close, ‘Kuna?” you ask, head still resting on his shoulder from where you sit behind him.
He nods, a soft “Mhm” vibrating in his throat.
“Remember what I said? Good boys use their words,” you remind him.
“I-I’m gonna-”
You cut him off. “Good boys also ask permission.”
His breath hitches for a moment. He never begs. Never. It was always you, asking him to let you finish one more time, or pleading with him to soften up as he overstimulates you. He loved the way you’d get all whiney for him, but it was something he viewed as inherently beneath him.
But right now, he doesn’t fucking care.
“Let me cum,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.
“Say please.”
Fuck, is he really about to do this? Is he seriously this fucking pathetic?
“Please,” he whispers.
You can’t stop yourself from grinning, giddy at just how eager he’s become, how malleable he is under your touch.
“Go ahead, baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips against his neck.
Picking up your pace, your grip tightens ever so slightly around his cock as you reach his tip, a shiver racking his body as your other hand moves to gently massage his balls.
“Open your eyes for me, sweetheart,” you purr into his ear, breath hot against his skin. “I want you to see what a mess you’re about to make.”
Without a second of hesitation he complies, his gaze struggling to focus on his lap as he tilts his head down. His eyes are glassy, far away, as he moves, mouth still hanging open.
You both watch in awe as thick ropes shoot from his tip, coating his thighs in the sticky whiteness.
“That’s it, you’re doing so good f’me,” you coo, droplets of cum slowly pouring down his length as you coax him through his ecstasy.
He’s silent as he finishes, no words able to form in his head, too dizzy from pleasure to think. His blown pupils can only observe as your hand slows, lazily following your movements as you pull your cum-coated fingers to his mouth.
The moment he feels you on his lips he opens them further, allowing you to slide your digits in, too dazed in bliss to argue.
“There you go, doin’ s’good,” you murmur as he sucks himself off of them, his eyes fluttering closed.
Holding him against the warmth of your bare chest, his body begins to tremble as he comes down from his high, suddenly feeling the tightness of the restraints against his skin. Leaning up you pull your fingers from his mouth, gently placing a peck on his cheek as you get to work untying him
“You did so good, ‘Kuna,” you hum as you remove the ropes from his legs and wrists, kissing the indents left behind on his skin.
As soon as he’s free he wraps his arms around you, his body hot as he pulls you into his lap. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck, holding you still for a moment.
“You better not fucking tell anyone about this,” he mutters into you.
“Of course not,” you whisper, reaching a hand up to gently stroke the back of his hair. “Now, let me take care of my good boy and get you all cleaned up, okay?” you follow, peppering his face with kisses as he holds back a lazy grin.
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nanaminokanojo · 15 days
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Sukuna is pissed.
The reason? You moved away from him in your sleep when he wanted to hold you close.
In your own subtle ways, you've always complained about how unaffectionate he is. You didn't explicitly say it, but he did notice how your mood would shift, your pretty little smiles barely masking your disappointment when he would do or say anything remotely cold or mean. And now that he was giving you what you wanted, you just roll away from him, depriving him of your warmth and the affection he expects you to reward him.
How you even managed to escape four of his arms to find your own corner of the bed was a big puzzle to him. You've always slept peacefully pressed to his side on most nights, and you didn't really move much once he had two of his arms wrapped around your frail form. Perhaps you were doing it on purpose after he had evidently upset you during supper by dismissing you when you asked about his day. There was nothing to tell, and though he understands that your concerns came from a good place, he still refused to tell you of the horrors of the world he found himself so deeply embroiled in.
Sukuna, however, brushed off the idea. You wouldn't dare. Or would you? He was just protecting you. Why would you hold that against him?
He chose not to entertain the thought, thinking it was just you moving in your sleep. And so, he reached for you, gently placing his arms over and underneath you to pull you closer. But it hadn't even been a minute of him holding you when you started letting out these seemingly irritated noises and shortly after, you were turning your back on him.
"What –" He stopped himself when you breathed in deeply, half expecting to hear sobs if you were truly upset with him, but then, your breathing rhythm returned to normal. You were still fast asleep.
Sukuna shrugged, already feeling his temper rising at the thought that you could sleep just fine without him. The thought of it annoyed him, and that was an understatement. He decided to move closer to you then, but as soon as he did, pressing your back on his bare chest, you started squirming, a dissatisfied groan leaving your lips.
At that, he rose slightly on his elbow, taking offense. "Woman, what is your problem?" he demanded, making you lie down flat on your back, startling you. "Is something ailing you?" This time, he spoke gently, watching as you slowly blinked up at his frowning face like you haven't got a clue what he's talking about. And then you closed your eyes before favoring your left side, going back to sleep.
"You –"
"What?" you whined without facing him, annoyed that your sleep was being disturbed.
Sukuna scoffed. You've really done it this time. Nobody dared speak to him that way. "What now? You don't want me anymore? I thought you wanted –"
In one swift movement, he found himself being tackled onto the bed as you turned around and threw yourself against him, immediately finding your spot in the crook of his neck. His two left arms instinctively wrapped around you, keeping you cradled in them as you snuggled closer, planting a kiss under his collarbone as if to appease him before you were falling back asleep.
"You could have just stayed like this –"
"Shh."
Did you just shush him? And as if to punctuate it, you raised your hand, your fingers blindly yet tenderly brushing his lips and staying there.
"Wife, you are aware I have two mouths, aren't you?" he spoke against your fingers, fighting a smile.
You moved your head back to smirk at him as you threw a leg over his abdomen right where his other mouth was, your thigh preventing it from saying anything.
"There. Problem solved."
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chosopie · 2 months
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PET - RYOMEN SUKUNA
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“What the fuck is that?”
You tilted your head, not knowing what your boyfriend was referring to. His face looked distressed and it was starting to worry you.
“Huh? What is what?” You asked.
“That ginormous filthy rat in your hands,” Ryomen panicked and took the animal from you.
“Ryo, be careful!”
“Begone you disgusting vermin!” He dropped it and opened the door, thinking it was going to leave.
“That’s my pet,” you hurried over and took the small animal in your arms, caressing its fur as an attempt to comfort it. “He’s a guinea pig.”
“A what?! What an abomination,” he spat. “Why would you keep a rat and pig hybrid?”
“Calm down. It can’t even hurt a fly.”
“I want it out of the house,” said Ryomen. Those were the last words he said to you before you left to run errands.
You went out to buy food and bedding for your guinea pig. You were worried that leaving it with Ryomen was a bad idea. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, it’s just that Ryomen didn’t know how to act around something he had never seen before so you can’t blame him for the way he reacted. If he did end up doing harm to it, you weren’t gonna let him off and you’d probably spend a month sleeping on the couch to show him how angry you were.
You crossed your fingers, nervously staring at the door knob. You inserted the key and turned it around, slowly twisting the knob and peeking through the small opening.
“Ryo?!” You gasped.
There he was, sitting on the couch with the guinea pig on his lap while he watched a horror movie. His hand was firmly placed on the guinea pig’s back, gently caressing it like you did. He turned to look at you and smirked.
“I have tamed the dirty beast.”
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hon3y-y · 5 months
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ your ex reminds you who you actually belong to</3
Jealous!Sukuna who comes banging on your door in the middle of the night. After you open the door, his sharp eyes immediately zero in on you, a deep scowl on his face.
Jealous!ex!Sukuna who doesn’t wait for you to let him in but brushes past you, already pacing around your apartments living room. He feels like he’s going insane, and its all your fault. You stare at him tiredly from just being woken up and when he finally notices your confusion, he’s quick to push you near the closest wall, “don’t act dumb, baby. You know what you did.” His voice is low and the predatory look in his eye makes you squirm.
Jealous!Sukuna who has your legs thrown over his shoulders as you lay on the couch, knotting your fingers into his soft hair, nearly sobbing as he works you into your third orgasm. “He can’t do this for you baby,” he cooes, “not the way I can…”pulling away while using his hand to spread your spent pussy apart for him. Your hole dripping and twitching as you whine, begging for him to stick it in. It so small and you clit is so swollen, he gives it a little kiss making you shutter, his sensitive pretty slutty baby:((
But he won’t, instead he slaps your aching cunt making your hips jump and a yelp escape your lips. He watches your eyes fill with tears and laughs, “you want me so bad and yet you fucked him…” still furious at the information a mutual friend passed to him. Doesn’t matter if you’re not together, you’re his and no one can change that. You pussy knows it, so why don’t you?
Jealous!ex!Sukuna who has you face down in the couch cushion, squealing every time his cock hits your cervix. Your eyes are nearly imprinted into the back of your head as you pussy gushes around his cock, drool leaking from your lips. The base of his dick glistens in your slick and his camera catches everything. He grabs your hair to pull you against him and forces your face in the camera, “smile for the camera, slut.”
Too fucked out to care, you only whimper and beg, “k-kiss m-e. P-please, kuna’~” you stutter the words, wanting nothing more than a confirmation he still loved you. He smiled, glad to catch the intimate moment on camera before throwing his phone onto the cushion and wrapping his hand around your neck to kiss you with passion. The kiss is messy, saliva and tongue but it only makes you two hornier
Jealous!Sukuna who fucked you until you passed out, tucked comfortably into his side and clinging onto him for dear life. He watches you sleep peacefully knowing that you would forget about all the fucked up shit he’s done and want him back. And just to be sure, he sends the guy you were seeing your most recent sex tape as a “goodbye gift” <3
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A/n; inspired by literally all of the other writers I’ve seen do these. Hope you guys enjoy:)
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seeingivy · 4 months
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best friends (older brother) sukuna! (ongoing) ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.
you find yourself spending an awful amount of time with your best friend, yuuji's, polar opposite older brother sukuna
content: best friends older brother trope, ooc sukuna, FLUFF, angst with a capital A, reader as written as insecure/not experienced, sukuna is described as a player multiple times.
TW: suggestive content, talk of insecurities, obsessive behaviors, complicated family/sibling relationships, suicide, parental abuse
read on ao3!
pretty girl
french toast
meet and greet
sleepover
intimacy
secrets
heart to heart
core memories
obsessions
dinner party
the lore
picnic
sisters
the moms
love of my life
taglist is open! just comment on any of the individual posts OR this one if you would liked to be added <3
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gojoux · 3 months
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『 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 』
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· Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
· Summary: Life has decided to lead you to him or lead him to you, knowing that you two are destined together despite your differences. This told story is just a glimpse of a few memories between you and him, one that he remembers dearly.
· CW: 8.6k // Mostly fluff. True Form!Sukuna. Heian Era. Overprotective + Possessive Sukuna. Very subtle sex scenes. Slight violence.
Late post because the app screwed me over a divider. As you see... it’s thicker like him than usual.
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The infamous King of Curses had only one weakness—you.
Ryomen Sukuna, the most fearsome sorcerer (or used to be one) alive, would melt in your presence. His usual cold and cruel demeanor vanished when he was with you, replaced by a gentle sweetness he showed to no other.
From the very first moment your paths crossed, he was utterly enthralled, something he would never expect to feel in his life. You’re someone he doesn’t even know or heard of and he doesn’t find the appeal from you, but there’s just something about you that makes him enchanted at first sight.
Your luminous soul called to him like a song. He knew you were destined to be his. And so he courted you as tenderly as his blackened heart would allow, coaxing you to return his affections.
Slowly, gently, he broke down your defenses. His smoldering gazes made your heart flutter. His feather-light touches from his big, strong hands and fingers sent shivers down your spine. Before long, you realized you were falling for this demon who looked at you with such longing in his crimson eyes.
He could shower you with all the passion and devotion he had been holding back. He cherishes you, catering to your every desire. Just being near you was euphoric for him.
When apart, he counted the seconds until he could see you again. And when reunited, he was unable to keep his hands off you, showering you with passionate kisses and whispers of sweet words.
“You are mine. Remember that,” he would murmur against your skin as he held you close. “Always.”
You had tamed the beast. Or so you thought.
While Sukuna was nearly defenseless against your love, it also ignited something far more sinister—his jealousy.
The mere idea of losing you made his blood burn with rage. Other men were not even permitted to look at you, lest they get torn limb from limb.
Though deeply in love, Sukuna’s possessive nature remained. And woe befall any who dared threaten what was his.
The first time it happened was weeks after you’d become his. A young lord from a clan sent you gifts and flowers, seeking your affection. When Sukuna discovered this, the fury in his eyes turned them molten gold.
“He dares think he can steal you away from me?” Sukuna seethed. In an instant, he vanished to hunt down the offending lord.
He returned hours later drenched in blood that was not his own. You shuddered to imagine what cruel fate had befallen the misguided young man. Sukuna said nothing of it, simply pulled you into a bruising kiss and swore you’d never leave his side again.
After that, the corpses started piling up.
A guard who eyed you lasciviously, eviscerated.
A peasant whose longing stare lingered too long, executed.
Anyone who so much as looked at you with desire was signing their own death warrant.
You begged Sukuna to show mercy, but your pleas fell on deaf ears. “They try to take what is mine,” he would snarl. “They deserve no less than agony and death.”
His demonic nature had fully resurfaced, and you realized just what you had unleashed. Sukuna would slaughter legions and burn the world to ashes if it meant keeping you.
You were terrified of what he had become. Yet some traitorous part of you thrilled at being so coveted, so passionately loved, even if it came at a bloody cost.
He was an obsession incarnate, and you, his obsession.
No matter where you turned, his shadow loomed.
There would be no escaping the King of Curses’ dark desires.
You were his.
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How did it all start? It’s been too long since it went past your head already.
But you do remember vividly when you were walking that one night when your gut told you not to, you did.
You should have listened to your instincts. But there was something about the forest at night that called to you, beckoning you to explore its moon-bathed paths and whispering trees.
Curiosity won out over caution, and you decided one quick walk couldn’t hurt.
You set out just after sunset, relishing the kiss of cool night air on your skin. The woods were serene and lovely in the deep blue hush just before true darkness fell. Night blooms perfumed the air as you wandered along aimlessly, simply savoring this secret world.
Until you realized you had lost your way. Suddenly the trees seemed more ominous, the shadows deeper. You paused, peering anxiously through the gloom.
How long have you been walking?
Which way was home?
As you turned around in circles trying to get your bearings, a blow of wind appeared behind you. You froze, heartbeat thudding in your ears.
“Well, what do we have here?”
You whipped around with a gasp. Emerging from the trees was a tall, powerfully built man. But what drew your wide-eyed stare were the four arms crossed onto his bare, toned chest.
You stumbled back in terror, but he moved unnaturally fast, appearing before you in an instant. Up close, details that had escaped you at a distance were now frighteningly clear. Tattoos are carved on his face and body. His eyes burned crimson.
You were face to face with the King of Curses himself.
“Please…” you whimpered, trembling. “I mean no trespass...”
Sukuna tilted his head, considering you with evident amusement. He reached out an arm towards you, his fingers gliding along your jaw, tipping your chin up. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for death.
But instead of tearing you apart, he simply chuckled. “Open your eyes. I will not harm you.”
You cracked them open hesitantly. Sukuna was observing you closely now, intrigued.
“Fear not. I merely wondered who was wandering my woods at this late hour,” he purred. “But I see now… you are no threat at all.”
His touch was surprisingly gentle as he traced the line of your throat. You shivered but did not dare pull away. The heat of his skin felt feverish against yours.
“What brings you here to me, I wonder?” he murmured, his piercing gaze seeming to lay your soul bare.
He tutted, circling you slowly. “These woods are dangerous at night, especially for tempting morsels like yourself. Do you have any idea what lurks in the shadows?” He paused expectantly, but you were too petrified to respond.
You licked your dry lips nervously. “I… I was simply exploring. I did not mean to disturb—”
“Quiet.” A finger pressed lightly over your mouth. “How shall I punish this trespass? I do hate uninvited guests.”
You finally found your voice, though it trembled pitifully. “P-please, I meant no intrusion. If you let me go, I swear I will never—”
“Let you go?” Sukuna tilted his head, looking almost offended. “Now, why would I do that? No, you will not be leaving.”
Your heart hammered at those enigmatic words. Just what did this dangerous being want with you? Surely not anything good.
As if reading your mind, Sukuna laughed once more. “Worry not, little one. I only wish for some company.” In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between you, caging you with his body. This close, the heat pouring off him was incredible, the coils of his tattoos seeming to slither and shift before your eyes with your heart hammering wildly.
A violent shudder went through you, though not entirely from fear now. Being clasped in his strong embrace had stirred something unexpected within you. A strange exhilaration at having caught the eye of this exotic and terrible being.
He leaned down, inhaling deeply near the crook of your neck. “Mm, such fear. I can taste it rolling off your skin… intoxicating.” His lips grazed your fluttering pulse, making you shudder. “You are afraid, yet also thrilled to see me, aren’t you?”
Heat rushed to your cheeks. Was it that obvious, the traitorous excitement you felt being so close to this dangerous demon? You just couldn’t tear your eyes away from his unusual beauty.
“I thought so,” he purred, looking utterly satisfied. He brushed a finger lightly down your cheek. “It seems fate has brought you to me for a reason.”
Sukuna sensed your reaction and made a small pleased noise. In one smooth motion, he swept you up into his arms and started carrying you deeper into the woods.
You gasped, hands braced against the solid muscles of his shoulder. “Where are you taking me? Please, I never meant to intrude! I am sorry! just—”
“Shut it.” His grip tightened. “Do not fight me. Submit, and it will go easier for you.”
Tears of panic spilled down your cheeks. But despite your fear, you felt your body responding to his proximity, pulsing with alarming warmth. Your thoughts scattered as Sukuna claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, tasting your helpless whimper.
“What are you…” you gasped, too speechless to find a word to fight back.
As if reading your mind again, Sukuna adjusts the way he’s carrying you to brush his lips against your own in a feather-light caress. “I hope you are not too afraid, little one. I have been alone for so long, you will keep me company. And I have no intention of letting you go.”
Some part of you recognized the truth in his words. No matter how your mind recoiled, your body was betraying you, longing for more of his addictive caresses. He sensed your crumbling resistance, his smile triumphant.
“You are mine now. Do not fight it.”
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You stared around in awe at the sprawling shinden-zukuri as Sukuna placed you down and led you inside. Paper screens glowed warmly with lantern light, illuminating opulent tatami rooms decorated with priceless scrolls and vases, and through meticulously tended gardens dotted with tranquil ponds. Everything about this place spoke of immense power and wealth.
It was a far cry from your own humble village dwelling. You could scarcely fathom how a demon lord had come to possess such a magnificent noble estate out here in the remote forest.
As Sukuna guided you deeper into the manse, you passed several elegantly dressed women in simple yet elegant kimonos, all keeping their gazes demurely lowered.
‘Servants,’ you realized. But where had they come from? Were they taken like how you are now? Were you about to become another of his servants?
When you reached the main manor, Sukuna slid open the screen to reveal a grand receiving chamber. Priceless ink scrolls and painted silk screens adorned the walls. The opulence was staggering.
“Do you like it?” he asked, noting your awe. “I claimed this estate long ago from its previous owners.”
You shivered at the implication behind those words but said nothing as he guided you deeper inside.
Your bemused wondering was interrupted when Sukuna slid open a screen door, ushering you into a lavish bed chamber. A large futon covered in silks took up most of the space.
“You must be weary, little one,” he stroked your hair. “Rest now. I will have my servants draw you a bath.”
He pressed his lips to your forehead before gliding from the room. Still stunned by your opulent surroundings, you wandered over to the open window. Beyond the manicured gardens and koi ponds you could see nothing but dense forest stretching endlessly. Just how far had Sukuna brought you?
You had little time to ponder before two servant women appeared, bowing deeply. They poured hot water into a carved wooden tub and then added cherry blossom-scented oils.
You let them help you disrobe and sink into the fragrant bath, the tension in your muscles unwinding. The demon’s domain was still terrifying and foreign, but you couldn’t deny the comforts he lavished upon you. His possession had a gentleness to it that left you conflicted.
This place treated you better in less than two hours than your whole life in the village.
After your bath, the servants dressed you in silken robes layered in rich hues of wisteria and spring leaves. Darkened your lips with crushed berries. They arranged your hair with jade combs and dabbed perfume at your wrists in a courtly fashion.
Examining their work in a bronze mirror, you barely recognized yourself. The simple village girl staring back from the bronze mirror was gone, replaced by someone who looked like a noblewoman.
Sukuna was waiting when you emerged, hungry eyes sweeping over you appreciatively. “Beautiful,” he pulls you close to him. His lips grazed your wrist, inhaling the perfume there. “You will come to appreciate the comforts of being mine.” His words sent an illicit tingle through you.
“Thank you,” was all you could say as you felt your body sway toward him, eyelashes fluttering downward demurely. His attentions were clouding your caution, making you forget the circumstances that had brought you here.
Sukuna seemed pleased by your response. He took your hand and led you to a candlelit room where a feast awaited. You kneeled on plush cushions across from him. There, your eyes widen at the sight—dishes you could only dream of tasting.
“Uraume is my best cook. They know how to make delicious food,” he brags, pointing at the person with white bob hair with his eyes. Uraume bowed respectfully before excusing themselves.
As the night deepened, Sukuna kept your cup full, his burning gaze holding yours in the romantic glow. Here in this place of luxury, it was easy to forget he was someone who had stolen you away.
“Come.” He held out one of his hands. “It is time you rested.”
Back in the bed chamber, he guided you down onto silken sheets while your pulse quickened. His eyes roamed your body hungrily before he leaned down to claim your lips in a deep kiss. You knew you should resist, but his touch ignited a dangerous fire inside.
His fingers trailed delicately along your skin as he peeled away each layer of your robes until you were laid bare before him. “You are so lovely, little one,” he rasped. He pressed you down into the silken futon, his eyes focused on you. “I will teach you pleasures fit for an empress,” he growled.
“And you will learn to crave my body above all else.”
His words sent a spike of fear through you, even as your traitorous body responded hungrily to his. His burning caress left no doubt of his intentions. You trembled, but didn’t refuse him.
Here in this beautiful prison, you were his to do with as he pleased. And some traitorous part of you craved to experience the passions he promised.
As Sukuna’s body covered yours, you surrendered completely to him. Within these walls, you now belonged utterly to him.
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You had been living as Sukuna’s pampered pet in his lavish manor for several days now. He gifted you an ornate silk kimono, adorned your hair with jeweled combs, and ensured you lacked nothing. At night, he would lay you across silken futons and set your body aflame with new realms of pleasure.
But each morning after, as he caressed your skin and murmured endearments, doubts crept in. Were there others that he touched this way? The thought filled you with unease.
You wanted his passion reserved only for you.
When Sukuna appeared in your room this evening, he found you quiet and distant, your smile restrained. Brow furrowing, he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.
“What troubles you, little one? Have I not provided for you well?”
You gathered your courage. “I… I have a request, My Lord…”
He raised one brow, “Oh? Speak.”
“If we are to share such intimacy, I wish it to be only between us. No other lover, in any way.” You held his gaze evenly. “Will you vow this, please?”
For a moment Sukuna only stared, stunned by your bold demand. Then a sly smile curved his lips.
“My little one wishes to tame me, is that it?” He trailed a finger lightly down your cheek. “You seek to bind me to yourself alone?”
Heart pounding, you gave one short nod.
Sukuna threw back his head with a delighted laugh. “You fascinate me endlessly. No mortal has ever dared make demands of me.” His expression softened by looking at your innocent face. “But for you, I will agree.”
He leans down, face to face with you, “From now on, I am yours alone.”
Relief washed through you at his oath. As Sukuna drew you into a passionate kiss, you yielded completely for the first time, holding nothing back.
“My sweet, little love…” He lifted you in his arms. “I will make you forget any existed before this night.”
And he did. Laying you down, hands and lips he worshiped you, wringing gasps and cries from your lips as you arched desperately, mindless and pleading beneath him.
At the height of ecstasy, his burning gaze held yours. His heated gaze seared into yours at the pinnacle, fierce and possessive. “No other shall ever know you as I do.”
The feeling when your body joined, the sensation was beyond words, it felt like coming home. Like a missing piece of your soul had been restored. Wave after wave of bliss crested over you both, leaving you entwined in breathless ecstasy.
As lantern light faded to silvery moonbeams, Sukuna held you close, your heartbeats synchronizing. You now belonged only to each other in body, heart, and soul.
“Mine,” Sukuna rasped against your skin, his canine digging into your neck, marking you as his. “Just as I am yours. This, I vow to you, little one, from now until the end of days.”
His words echoed long in your mind, even as spent passion gave way to sleep in his enveloping embrace. The King of Curses himself was now bound to you irrevocably. And you to him.
The vow had been spoken, the ritual complete.
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The days had settled into a predictable routine in Sukuna’s residence. He would vanish for hours or even full days to attend to mysterious “business”, leaving you to wander the chambers and gardens alone. You never ask where he went or what occupied him. Some fears were best left unspoken.
But your heart would lift eagerly whenever Sukuna returned, no matter how late the hour. Just knowing he had come back to you was enough. You took to waiting anxiously by the engawa, ready to greet him.
At first, he returned spotless and composed. But soon the blood became noticeable.
It would decorate his arms, spatter his chest and face in drying rust-colored patterns. The life essence of whatever poor souls had crossed him in the nearby villages. You didn’t need to ask how it got there.
The first time, you gasped and shrank back in horror. But Sukuna just smiled and opened his arms to you. “Come, let us get cleansed of the day’s exertions.”
You forced yourself to look past the gore, seeing only your demonic lord who needed tending. Taking his hand, you led him to the bath chamber.
There you gently sponged away the carnage, breathing relief when his skin emerged clean again. Sukuna watched you intently, eyes glowing with unspoken emotions. You didn’t dare examine it too closely.
When you were done, he would pull you into his lap, nuzzling against your throat almost tenderly. As if your ministries had tamed the beast lurking within.
“My little one,” he would rumble. And your heart would swell under his praises.
Before long, you began living for his returns. The hours apart stretched endlessly, your thoughts consumed with concern for his well-being. Your chest would tighten with loneliness in his absence. Maybe you craved him because you have no one to come home to, that’s why you are willing to be with him.
Surely he must share your needs, right?
The moment his shadow appeared down the corridor, you flew to him, embracing him heedless of any lingering blood. Sukuna laughed indulgently, hands gentling your desperation.
“Such passion, little one. Did you miss me so terribly?”
You nodded, not caring how you exposed your dependence on him. He tipped your chin up, his sharp eyes looking at you softly. “As I missed you. The time apart is agony.”
His admission made you smile in relief. After bathing him, you would prepare tea and draw him into quiet conversation, savoring this domestic intimacy. Here with you, he almost seemed content.
At late night, his lovemaking took on new urgency, as if reaffirming your bond. You matched his intensity, wanting to erase any distance the day had built between you.
“You are all I need,” he whispered afterward, cradling you close. And you knew then you were hopelessly lost to this dangerous creature. He had become your entire world.
When Sukuna departed each morning, part of you went with him. Until he returned to make you whole once more. There was no denying the truth—you were his, mind, body, and soul.
You see, life with Sukuna provided came at a terrible price—the waiting.
And so you hatched a plan.
You requested the finest silks from the seamstress and described the revealing garment you wished to craft. An elegant yet alluring yukata, hinting at the beauty beneath.
On the night of his homecoming, you adorned yourself carefully, arranging your hair over your bare shoulders, sketching your lips crimson. The ensemble left you feeling exposed, but also powerful.
When Sukuna entered the bed chamber, the sight of you made him halt in his tracks. Eyes widened as they traced over you hungrily, taking in every contour the diaphanous fabric outlined.
“Little one,” he rasped. “You look like divinity itself. What is all this for?”
You steeled your nerves and went to him, guiding his fingers to untie your sash with hands that trembled.
“I wish to ease your burdens tonight, My Lord. Will you permit me?”
A growl escapes his throat as your robes slip to the floor. The intensity of his gaze seared into your skin everywhere it touched. Strong arms pulled you fiercely against him.
“You test my restraint, beloved. Are you certain?”
At your whispered yes, his control shattered. With infinite care he bore you down onto silken sheets, praising every inch of newly bared flesh until you were dizzy and pleading.
Even at its peak, he kept the pace languid—long, delirious strokes of passion. The pleasure was sweet agony. You arched and moved as one, minds entwining as deeply as your bodies.
When it ended, you were changed. Sukuna held you tenderly as languor claimed you both, as if you were the most precious treasure in the world.
Perhaps you should have been afraid of this obsessive devotion. But you could not imagine life without him now.
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As nice as it is living comfortably with everything provided for you, sometimes his residence becomes a gilded cage. You yearned to walk beyond the gardens, to visit the nearby villages you glimpsed from afar.
After much pleading, Sukuna finally relented. “If it will make you happy, we shall go. But you must stay close to me.” His eyes held an unspoken warning.
The day came at last. Taking his arm, you ventured out onto the winding forest paths, buzzing with excitement. Sukuna watched you closely, as if to imprint each delighted reaction.
When the first simple thatched dwellings came into view, you gasped. “Oh, look! Real village life, just as I remembered.”
“Then let us explore it,” he said indulgently, strolling by your side.
You moved through stalls selling woven reed baskets, hand-dyed yukata, and carved jade amulets. The smells of grilling fish and blossom-scented steam from tea houses mingled in the air. Your smile was radiant.
Most villagers averted their eyes and scrambled away at the sight of his presence. But their fearful deference only seemed to amuse Sukuna as he guided you along.
Pausing by a fountain, you turned joyfully to him. “Thank you for this, My Lord. I haven’t felt this happy in…” Your voice trailed off as you noticed a young man staring from across the village square. His gaze was fixed on you, his handsome face breaking into a flirtatious grin, looking at you with his eyes signaling interest.
Before you could react, Sukuna had crossed the distance between them in two swift strides. You watched in horror as he seized the insolent youth by the throat and slammed him against a wall, baring razor fangs.
“You dare look at her that way?” he thundered. The young man choked out pleas for mercy as Sukuna’s grip tightened relentlessly.
“My Lord! Stop!” You rushed over, clutching his arm. “I beg you, let him go!”
With obvious reluctance, Sukuna released his hold and stepped back. The terrified man crumpled to the ground, wheezing with his face pale. You tugged Sukuna (he didn’t resist) away quickly as onlookers gaped.
Once you were back within the secluded forest path, he rounded on you. “Why did you stop me?” he demanded, eyes still burning with fury. “That whelp was openly desiring what is mine.”
You trembled. “He meant no true offense, My Lord.”
Sukuna exhaled harshly, drawing you against him. “You are too forgiving, little one. Next time I may not be so lenient.” The promise in his voice chilled you.
Nonetheless, in the days that followed, you persuaded him to let you visit the village markets again. Sukuna acquiesced, but his mood turned brooding whenever you went out together.
It was not long before a repeat incident occurred. A passing noble’s gaze lingered on you a moment too long. Sukuna's reaction was swift and merciless. Before you could intervene, the shrieking lord was engulfed in infernal flames, his ashes scattering to the wind.
This time, Sukuna was deaf to your pleas for restraint. “They continue testing me, presuming they can admire my possession with impunity,” he snarled. “I will suffer this insult no more.”
Numb with horror, you could say nothing as he took your arm and led you from that place of death.
Sukuna would never change his nature. His jealousy and possessiveness were as innate as the demonic power coursing through his veins. And you were helpless to curb them.
Trying to tame such a savage spirit had been foolish. Where his claim over you was concerned, no mercy would ever sway him.
The journey back to the estate was made in tense silence. You could feel the rage rolling off Sukuna in scorching waves as he strode ahead. His jaw was granite, fists clenched and shaking.
Only once you were behind the privacy of the chamber walls did he finally unleash it.
“How can you defend him?” he roared, making you flinch. “Those pathetic mortals who dared to covet what is not theirs. It is unacceptable!”
You stood your ground. “I make no defense, only ask that you temper reactions. This endless jealousy causes nothing but suffering.”
Sukuna’s eyes blazed, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss. “You ask me to watch passively as they dishonor my claim on you? To permit their vulgar ogling?” He swept a hand savagely across a lacquered table, sending the vase crashing.
You jumped at the destruction but forced yourself to meet his volcanic glare. “I am not possession or prize to be claimed, My Lord. You cannot punish all for one foolish man’s gaze. I have told you this before, but I am not harmed.”
“Not harmed?” Sukuna bellowed, slamming his fists into the bloodwood pillar with a crack. “Not yet! But their desire will grow brazen if I do not act decisively now.”
He stormed toward you, making you back away instinctively. “You are mine. No other shall covet or touch what belongs to me. I would see this whole wretched village burn first.”
As his tirade raged on, you felt tears rising, spilling silently down your cheeks. The possessive diatribes, the limitless fury—you were exposing the folly of trying to gentle the devil’s heart.
Sukuna abruptly halted his pacing at the sight, chest heaving. His blazing eyes took in your hunched, trembling form. For an instant, something like shock flickered across his face. He blinked rapidly, swaying slightly.
“No… My little love…” All at once, the frenzied anger seemed to drain from him. He reached for you hesitantly, as if expecting you to recoil. When you stayed rooted, he enfolded you in his shaking arms.
“Forgive me,” Sukuna whispered. “I should not have raised my voice. But the thought of losing you…” One hand stroked your hair, then gently tipped your chin up. His thumb brushed away the tear tracks on your skin.
“You are everything to me in this wretched world,” he murmured. “I could not bear it if harm befell you.” His eyes were molten and his voice raw. “Tell me you know I would never let anything hurt you, not even myself in the madness of my rage.”
You searched his face and saw the sincerity burning there. With a fragile nod, you laid your head against his chest. His exhale was ragged with relief.
“I will try to be more merciful. For you, at least,” he sighs. “But you must understand it rages in my blood when I see them desire my most precious treasure.”
You stayed silent in his embrace. Perhaps this was the most he could concede—ferocity tempered with remorse. You could not change his possessive heart, only help him master what flowed within it.
And for now, it would have to be enough. His jealousy was a storm that would never fully be calmed. But like the storm’s eye, at the center there was still tenderness he reserved only for you.
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Once more, the days dragged endlessly when Sukuna was away. You had explored every corner of the estate a dozen times over. The loneliness gnawed at you.
So when he left at dawn one morning, you made an impulsive decision. Donning a cloak, you slipped outside the manor walls while the servants slept. Your steps quickened as you neared the hill path leading down to the village.
You had only meant to take a brief, harmless walk to lift your spirits. But the smells of grilled squid and sweet adzuki buns drew you like a magnet. Your stomach rumbled, reminding you it had been ages since you tasted simple street food.
Checking over your shoulder, you darted to the nearest food stall when no one was looking. The elderly vendor smiled in delight as you pointed to the snacks that tempted you most. It felt deliciously naughty, this minor rebellion.
You were waiting for the bamboo skewer of piping hot squid when someone jostled you from behind. Whirling around angrily, you found yourself staring up at a rugged, unkempt man looming over you. His bloodshot eyes raked down your body in a way that made your skin crawl.
“Well now, what do we have here?” His words slurred drunkenly. “You’re that demon’s little toy, ain’t ya? His pretty pet.”
When you shrank away, the brute caught your wrist in a painful grip. Revulsion rose in you. “Let go of me!”
The man just sneered. “Where is your master now, hmm? Bet he doesn’t like you sneakin’ off alone.” He swayed closer, sour breath hot on your face. “Maybe I oughta teach you some manners, whore.”
Outraged tears stung your eyes. You opened your mouth to scream for help when suddenly the man’s hand was wrenched away from you with a sickening crack. His shriek split the air.
Whirling around, you saw Sukuna standing there, eyes blazing infernos. The man who had seized you was now suspended off the ground, clutching his mangled, dangling arm.
“Please, mercy!” he whimpered piteously. But Sukuna’s face was a merciless stone.
With a snarl, he slammed the offender down, pinning him by the throat. “You dare speak to her that way?” His voice was deathly quiet. “Dare lay your filthy hands upon her?”
The man gurgled pleas, legs kicking uselessly. Sukuna tightened his grip. “No. There will be no mercy for you.”
And before your eyes, he ripped the man’s head from his body in one savage motion. Blood sprayed hot across your face and cloak. The headless corpse slumped with a wet thud that echoed horribly in your ears.
You stood there, frozen. You’re sick to the stomach—it’s nauseating—looking at the brutal sight that your lover could do.
Rooted in shock, you barely registered Sukuna turning to you. He grasped your shoulders firmly. “Did he hurt you?” At your numb shake of the head, fiery rage flooded back into his eyes.
“Good. Because I would have drawn out his torment for years if he had.” With that, Sukuna flung the lifeless body contemptuously through the door of a nearby hut.
Screams arose from within as you stared at the gore coating Sukuna’s hands. The brutality finally jolted you from horrified paralysis. Voice trembling, you begged him to take you home.
The journey back was made in silence. Once behind the walls, Sukuna rounded on you like the last time.
“How could you go without my permission?” He paced like a caged beast. “See what nearly befell you? The filth who could do anything to you?”
You flinched beneath the verbal onslaught, too numb to defend yourself as he kept raging.
“You are forbidden from leaving again! Do you understand?” He seized your shoulders roughly. “It is too dangerous for you.”
You nodded, mute and hollow. With a harsh exhale, Sukuna pulls you against him as four of his arms envelop you in a warm embrace, some of the frantic anger leaving him.
“Forgive my harsh words, my little love. But I do not like you being treated like that.” His voice broke on the last word. He clutched you tighter, as if to reassure himself you were real.
After that day, whispers followed you through the residence like ghosts, for no clear reason. Servants offering polite smiles that never reached their eyes, only to resume their hushed gossip once you’d passed.
At first, you tried ignoring the sidelong glances and murmurs. But still, the cruel words leaked through.
“She is just a plaything to him.”
“Once the master is bored, she will be discarded.”
“He is only using her on the bed.”
“Once he tires of those pleasures, her time here will end.”
Their cruel words haunted you, sinking claws into vulnerabilities you’d buried deep. Did they speak the truth? Was your whole purpose here just to entertain Sukuna’s baser appetites? The thought you might be expendable shook you to your core.
You managed to conceal your anguish and distress at first. But the doubts festered, stealing your appetite and sleep. When Sukuna finally noticed the toll on your health, alarm flared in his eyes.
Gently taking your hands, he scoops you onto his lap, facing him. “What is bothering your pretty little head, hm? You know you can tell me anything.”
You shook your head, “It is nothing, My Lord. Not a big problem.”
“I do not like you lying to me, little one,” he shakes his head, not buying your secrecy.
“I am okay. Please, no need to be concerned about me.”
“How can I not? What is it? Tell me,” he holds your chin still to make you look at him.
Both of your stubborn banter goes back and forth until you’re both getting impatient.
You wavered, then spilled out the vile gossip you’d endured in silence. Sukuna listened gravely, thumb idly stroking your wrist. When you finished, he let out a long breath, gazing at you earnestly
“You believe their hateful lies? That you are some plaything to me? You know in your heart these claims are untrue.” He grasped your shoulders, staring intently into your eyes. “You are everything. Your faith in me is worth more than a million mortal lifetimes.”
He brought your hand to his chest, holding it over his steadily beating heart. “Do not let petty jealousies make you doubt what we share.”
Overwhelmed, you buried your face against him. “Forgive my doubts, My Lord,” you whispered.
“There is nothing to forgive. The fault is theirs, not yours.” Stroking your hair, he pressed a fierce kiss to your head. Then his tone turned cold. “As for these spiteful women, I will make them regret ever speaking such lies.”
You quickly squeezed his hands. “Please, do not harm them. I only wished to explain my melancholy, not see others punished.”
Sukuna frowned. “You ask me to ignore those who hurt you so? Who makes you doubt my devotion?” His grip on you tightened. “I cannot be so forgiving.”
“I know it comes from care,” you soothed. “But replying to anger with more anger will only breed misery.”
He paused, then exhaled harshly, pulling you close. Resting his forehead to yours, he went on. “I swear to you, my feelings run deeper than they comprehend.”
“Leave this to me now, little one. Just rest easy.”
True to his word, the gossip ceased quickly. You didn’t ask what Sukuna said or did to silence loose tongues. But the servants now bent over backward to please you, their once spiteful eyes now carefully respectful.
Their newfound reverence somehow bothered you more. But Sukuna seemed satisfied. “Let the wretches make amends for causing you pain,” he said nonchalantly.
Some part of you recoiled at his methods. Yet it warmed your heart to know he would avenge any slight against you without hesitation. Perhaps it was wrong to take comfort from his possessiveness.
But you needed to feel cherished after so much doubt. And Sukuna left no room for uncertainty in how deeply he treasured you. Each tender glance and touch slowly healed the wounds until you were whole again.
When he came to you beneath the silken sheets now, the passion held new meaning. A reaffirming of what you were to each other.
You were his sanctuary. Just as he was yours.
The gossip no longer stung when you knew his heart with such certainty.
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Sukuna had told you he was taking a few days off to spend with you. With him home beside you for a blessed few days, the gloom cast over the estate seemed to lift. His four muscular arms caged you securely against his broad chest as you sank comfortably into his embrace.
He was attentive in ways you’d never seen before, constantly drawing you into his arms, asking questions about your childhood, your dreams, anything to get to know you better.
At first, you were shy, unused to being the object of such focused interest. But Sukuna’s patient gentleness soon had the words spilling freely from your lips.
You happily opened up to him in turn, chatting lightly about your days spent tending the garden, studying scripture with the monks, or watching the koi fish circle lazily in their pond. No detail was too small or mundane—he drank in every insight into your character with eyes that never once glazed in boredom.
He listened intently, his crimson eyes focused solely on you. As frightening as he could be, you knew this powerful being cherished you in his own way. You were likely the only person in the world he cared for.
When you finally worked up the courage to ask about his early life in turn, his gaze darkened briefly. “There is little of worth to tell,” he muttered.
He went on tonelessly to describe his parents casting him out as an infant, cursing his existence. Forced to eke out a living on the streets, he learned quickly that mercy was for the weak.
“I was not always like this,” he rumbled. “Once I was a human, born to parents who did not want me.” His fingers tensed where they rested on your back. “As an infant, they discarded me on the streets to die. But I survived, growing up feral and alone.”
You looked up at him sadly, heart aching at the thought of him helpless and abandoned with no one to care for him. You raised a hand to gently stroke his cheek.
Sukuna closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. “I do not tell you this for pity,” he said firmly. “My past made me strong.”
His eyes opened again. “When my cursed technique manifested, I used them without mercy, cutting down any who dared stand in my way. I reveled in my growing strength, the thrill of battle and blood... they satisfied me. I honed my skills until I became unmatched.”
You nodded solemnly. His description matched the legends told of the terrifying Ryomen Sukuna.
Now you know why he lacked mercy.
You take his hands in yours, kissing his palms. “The past is behind you now,” you told him. “What matters is who you choose to be from this day forth. My love for you is unconditional.” You smiled up at him warmly. “But I promise to teach you the ways of empathy and love, even if you protest.”
Sukuna huffed in amusement, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “Little one, you may try, but do not expect miracles. I am what I am.” But his embrace around you was gentle, belying his words.
You poked his chest teasingly. “I will make it my mission to show you how wonderful love can be, the joys it brings to our lives.” Laughing, you added, “Just you wait, I will have you reciting poetry and picking wildflowers before long!”
“Hmph, do not get carried away,” he grumbled, but you could tell he was secretly pleased by your playful vow.
You cuddled against his chest, determined to shower this damaged soul with all the love and tenderness he had missed in his tragic early years.
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The next morning, as soft sunlight filtered into the bedroom, you lay wrapped in Sukuna’s strong embrace. Your head rested on his muscular chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. His breathing was slow and even, still asleep.
You traced idle patterns on his bare skin, your fingertips grazing over the tattoos adorning his body. Your mind drifted back to the conversation from the night before when Sukuna had told you a bit of his past.
Abandoned and unloved, forced to survive on his own from infancy. Your heart ached for the small, helpless babe he had been. The thought of him growing up without affection or care weighed heavily on you.
You understood now why love and empathy were so foreign to him. But you were determined to show Sukuna what he had missed, to fill his long existence with the warmth and joy he deserved.
Your short mortal life worried you, however. Sukuna had lived for centuries, he would go on existing long after you passed on. Would he find someone new to love? How would losing you affect him? Immortal beings were not meant to give their hearts to fleeting humans.
You must have tensed in concern, because Sukuna began stirring, his four arms instinctively tightening around you. “What troubles you so early, little one?” his deep voice rasped, still groggy with sleep.
You tilted your head up to peer at him. “I was thinking about what you told me last night, about your past. My heart breaks imagining you alone as a child.”
He regarded you seriously. “It was long ago. Dwelling on what cannot be changed is pointless.”
“I know,” you murmured. “I only wish I could have cared for you then. But now I worry… what will happen when I am gone? My life is so short compared to yours. Will you find someone new to love?” Your voice caught on the last word as you averted your gaze. You weren’t sure you even wanted to hear the answer.
He was silent. When you worked up the courage to look at him again, his crimson eyes were looking at you intensely. With a swift, motion he flipped you beneath him, bracing his weight above you and capturing your face between his big hands.
“You think I could simply replace you when death takes you from me?” His thumb brushed your cheek tenderly. “No other has touched my soul as you have. Long was my existence before you, yet I was empty.” Leaning down, he touched his forehead to yours.
“Your fragile mortality may one day steal you from my side, but what we have cannot be replicated or replaced.” He lifted his head to gaze deeply into your eyes.
“When you are gone, I will be lost again. I accept that your life must end as mine continues.” His jaw clenched. “But I will find no peace with another. What we have is beyond replacement.”
Tears blurred your vision at his heartfelt words. You had not realized the depth of his attachment, that the absence of your love would leave him emotionally desolate.
You threw your arms around his broad shoulders. “Then we must make the most of the time we have,” you declared. “Fill our days with so much joy that you will carry the warmth of our love for eternity.”
Sukuna wrapped you tightly in his embrace. “Yes,” he agreed, nuzzling your neck. “I will cherish every precious moment with you, little one.”
His words made your heart clench, but you understood, he would never love another as he had you. Your lives were tragically misaligned, yet the love you shared transcended such limits.
You spent the day wrapped up in Sukuna, exchanging tender caresses, murmuring sweet nothings, strolling the grounds hand-in-hand. Every shared laugh, every affectionate glance was savored, imprinting your bond ever deeper.
As the sun sets in glorious color, you lay entwined together beneath the cover of a wisteria tree. Your head rested over Sukuna’s heart as he gently stroked your hair. His steady heartbeat and the rhythmic rise of his chest were deeply comforting.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered.
“As do I, little one,” he replied, his voice tinged with melancholy. “But we cannot halt the merciless passage of time.”
You leaned up to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “No matter how short my life, I am grateful every moment of it is spent with you.”
Sukuna cradled you close, distress evident in his eyes. “When I am alone again, I will find comfort in the memories we have.”
His grip on you tightened, as if he could hold you to this world through will alone. You tilted your head back to peer up at him. “And when I am gone, will you be okay?”
“I will endure it. As I have endured all hardship in my long life.” He traced his thumb lightly down your cheek. “It will not feel the same, my little love. But do not worry about me, I will be fine.”
Your heart clenched at the raw honesty in his normally stoic demeanor. On impulse, you stretched up to press a soft kiss to his lips. Sukuna went still for a heartbeat before responding in kind, lips moving gently against yours.
“Then do not dwell on the inevitable end,” you cup his face in your hands. “Think only of how much we mean to each other now. If my love can sustain you even a little while after I am gone, that will be enough.”
Sukuna pressed his forehead to yours. “I will brace it when the time comes. But for now, my world is only you.”
You kissed him tenderly, then settled against his chest once more. Bittersweet joy swelled your heart, knowing you had brought some warmth into Sukuna’s grim existence. Though fleeting and painfully finite, your mortal love was a balm to his ancient, scarred soul.
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The years passed swiftly. Sukuna remained your steadfast companion as you grew from a young woman into old age. He was always there to hold you close, whisper endearments, make you laugh with his wit.
In the blink of an eye, your hair became streaked with silver. Your smooth skin wrinkled and your energy waned. But your love never faded.
Sukuna stayed by your side as you grew frail, cradling you tenderly through restless nights, patiently spoon-feeding you broth when eating became difficult. His eyes reflected centuries of sadness knowing your time grew short.
Finally, you lay weakly upon your futon as he stayed close by your side. Your breathing turned ragged and a violent cough wracked your body. He gathered you gently into his arms.
“The end is near, my little one,” he murmured, smoothing back your thin hair.
You gave him a quivering smile. “I am ready. Just stay with me, please.”
He pressed his lips to your wrinkled forehead. “Always.”
You spent your final moments gazing up at his face, etched into your mind after so many years together. His image would be the last you saw in this life. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes for the final time.
Sukuna let out a broken noise, pulling you tightly to his chest as your body went limp. Rocking your still form, he wept for the first time in his long existence. Anguished sobs wracked his powerful frame.
He had known this moment would come, yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer devastation of losing you. It felt as though part of his soul had been ripped away.
Sukuna had guarded your mortal form night and day in those final years. Now you slipped away before his eyes, leaving him utterly alone. The crushing pain made him understand the human concept of a “broken heart”.
But he took comfort knowing you had passed peacefully in his embrace. The only mercy was that you were spared a drawn-out decline. He had filled your short life with as much love as one man could give. He has known you for a short time compared to how you’ve known him for most of your life.
Wiping his eyes, Sukuna pressed final kisses to your cooled skin. He would honor you with a funeral befitting royalty. Then he must decide where to wander next. This place held too many haunting memories now.
Sukuna laid you gently on the futon and stood. He cast one last anguished look at your still face.
“My beloved…” he whispered. “No other shall ever take your place.”
Then he turned and strode from the room, jaw clenched against a fresh onslaught of grief. His steps were heavy with the unbearable burden of immortality and loss.
No, he doesn’t cremate you despite having the ability to do so. He doesn’t even want to think of burning you to ashes, or he might as well lose it and burn the world with it for taking you away too soon.
He buried you beneath the cherry tree where you’d spent so many blissful hours in his arms. He marked the site with a stone monument etched with his promise:
“In this life or the next, you are mine. None will ever love you as I have, little one.”
His task complete, Sukuna wandered for many years after. Though the sharp pain dulled to a persistent ache, the emptiness inside him never abated. He fulfilled his promise and took no other lovers, knowing they could only ever be hollow substitutes.
He will wait until his time comes no matter how long it takes to see you again in the afterlife.
He will wait long enough to see you reborn and claim you one more as his.
But the thing he knows for sure, you will always belong to no one but him.
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I got emotional and carried away, I’m sorry 😭😭
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teatreeoilll · 3 months
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Roommate!Sukuna weekly drabble part 3
"How much longer is this going to take, woman?" Sukuna grumbles as you hover over him, it's been long since he felt that pesky a pain. "Just a little - " You drawl, placing the tweezers between his eyebrows again, trying to catch the hair you've been eyeing all day, "longer."
“Fuck,“ He hisses when you finally pluck it out, his eyes scrunching in pain as his fingers dig into the couch’s fabric.
“You’re acting like a baby,” you chastise, “don’t you want to look nice for your date?”
“How many time do I have to tell you?” He snatches the tweezers out of your hand, smacking them on the table, “it’s not a date.”
“Oh, so just a dinner then?” You chuckle, trying to hide the notes of unhappiness in your voice, “..Is she pretty?”
“Breathtaking,” he responds, watching your eyes drop to the floor before coming back up to meet him with a smile.
“Good,” you utter, pushing out an arm to grab the tweezers from the coffee table, “then let me finish -“
Sukuna slams a flat palm on the tool, “I really don’t think my mother will mind the eyebrows.”
“-Oh.”
-
“It looks fancy,” You mutter when he shows you the restaurant on his phone, “you have to wear a suit.”
“A suit?”
“Maybe a tie, too,” you look him up and down, “don’t want to embarrass yourself, do you?”
When he finally comes out of his room you can’t stop the giggling fit that follows, holding a hand over your mouth to bite back the laughter.
“Quit laughing, brat.”
But you can’t keep the grin off your face, coming closer to straighten his tie, too busy fondling the silk to notice how his face grows red at the proximity.
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kiwicopia · 5 months
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🔞 MDNI | Kinktober: Exhibitionism 🔞
🎃 True Form!Sukuna x Fem!Concubine!Reader 🎃
TW: Jealousy, two cocks, fondling, cumflation, cum marking, belly bulge, mentions of murder, slight blood, cunnilingus (tummy tongue), reverse cowgirl position, squirting, rough riding.
tags: @stygianoir @shes-so-insane @uzxotic
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Ryomen Sukuna was a lot of things. King of Curses, The Disgraced One, the strongest, a murderer, possessive… but one thing you never thought he’d be was jealous. Possessive, yes, but the man never once donned a jealous expression, until now. When he caught a servant flirting so shamelessly with you while his back was turned. You didn’t belong to that peasant. You were Sukuna’s—his little toy to do with as he pleased. Such insolence was met with a swift demise for the servant and a punishment for his little concubine.
A sharp gasp slipped out as his stomach’s tongue wiggled inside your cunt, stretching your gummy walls even further as it tasted you. One pair of arms kept your thighs apart as you sat in his lap, back pressed firmly against his chest while his hands on the other pair cupped your breasts. His thumbs rolled over your nipples, drawing a soft moan from your lips. “Master Su—.”
“Don’t speak,” he said, cutting you off from speaking. One hand left your tit and grasped your face before tilting your head back, letting your eyes meet his. “This is a punishment. You need to be taught a lesson and remember who it is you belong to.” His thumb stroked your cheek before his grip tightened a little more, causing you to whimper from the pressure. It wasn’t enough to harm you, but it certainly got his point across.
To make matters worse, he had summoned every single servant at his disposal to witness it. He was going to let them all see that you were his, and that they were not allowed to speak or touch you. His hand turned your head once more, forcing you to look out at the many eyes that watched as his tongue savored your little cunt. Your body squirmed from having an audience and the fact that your arousal trickled down onto his thighs.
His stomach’s tongue reached deeper inside of you, the tip pushing against your cervix harshly. It hurt, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt as well. A small whine broke out the second that pressure was removed, only to be replaced by a moan when the tongue roughly licked up against your clit. Your legs trembled lightly from the pleasure it gave you, and as much as you wanted to move your hips against the appendage, his arms kept you spread in place. “Master,” you moaned, drawing a smirk from the curse.
Your legs shook a little more, and your hands slid down to further the pleasure, yet you were apprehended as his other hand left your tit and gripped both of your wrists. “Ah, ah,” he tutted, his smirk broadening, “don’t you dare.” His hand tightened around your wrists, pulling another whine from your pretty lips. He wasn’t about to let you do as you pleased, oh no. This was punishment, not pleasure, and you needed to be reminded of that. The tongue then retracted back into his stomach as the arms that kept your legs spread apart lifted you just enough for the head of his cock to settle at your entrance.
Sukuna showed no mercy as his arms suddenly slammed your body down, causing you to scream out as his dick shoved its way inside your pussy. Your walls had no time to accommodate to his size, and you felt yourself clench at how full he made you feel. One hand let go of your leg and gripped your waist as he moved you up and down, forcing you to take more and more of his length every time. The hand that held your face tipped your head downward, allowing you to see the way he made your stomach bulge from his size.
It was painful with him not letting you get used to his size, and it would’ve been worse if you hadn’t already been so wet from the tongue prior. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as his thick cock bullied your little cunt, forcing you down more and more before finally bottoming out inside of you. He growled low at the tightness, marveling in the way your pussy gripped him like its life depended on it. It didn’t matter how many times he took you, your body was always the same, and it would end the same, too.
His hand moved your head again, now forcing you to look back at the peasants that watched the scene. He heard their whispers but paid no mind to them. All he was focused on was showing them that you were his. “Look at them,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear, “look at the way they watch you bounce on my cock.” His smirk was still plastered to his face as he relished the moment. Your eyes closed halfway as he continued moving your body up and down on his dick, building up the pleasure that slowly consumed your body. His second cock twitched, the movement causing it to rub against your clit.
Your body jolted up at the feeling, and it only made the curse hum in delight as he thought. His other hand soon let go of your other leg as it drifted down to his throbbing erection, and it wasn’t long before you felt him press it against your bundle of nerves. Pleasure shot up your body each time he brought your body down on his first cock while the second rubbed harshly against your clit. Your thighs clenched at how intense everything was for you, and the way the audience watched you did nothing to deter you from wanting to climax. You didn’t care if it was in front of them. Not when they’ve already seen you bare and taking your master’s cock like the good girl you were.
“Gonna cum,” he mumbled, “gonna fill you up and make them see.”
Your mouth hung open as you attempted to speak, but incoherent babbling was all anyone heard as he forced you to ride him so roughly. Your mind was muddled with lustful thoughts as your body clenched, a simple sign that you were fixing to cum. Sukuna knew this and his movements increased as he brought you down on his dick, shoving it further inside of you. The tip kissed your cervix harshly before bringing you down one final time. A low groan left his lips as his nails dug into your waist, drawing a little bit of blood as his first cock shot a thick load inside you. His second came shortly after, decorating part of your face, chest, stomach and thighs with thick, white ropes of seed.
It was all too much. The pressure of his first dick inside of you followed by an increase of that from him filling you up was what brought you over the edge. Your entire body shook as you unraveled, your pussy fluttering wildly and creaming all over the cock that was still inside of you. His dick caused a large stomach bulge, yet his cum added on to that. The crowd watching murmured low with one another as he marked and bred you like a bitch.
When the man lifted you up off of him, your slick and his cum seeped out of your cunt. He then lowered you back down, letting you rest against his chest as you stared at your audience with a look of being fucked out of your mind on your face. Now everyone knew you were his. They weren’t allowed to talk to you, to touch you, not even look at you, either. You belonged to Sukuna and only to Sukuna. His little toy. His little concubine.
No one would forget this day. How could they? The way your chest heaved with exhaustion, the marks on your waist from his nails, how his cum painted your body so beautifully, and the fucked out expression on your face would be burned into their memories forever.
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rinseis · 5 months
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RUMOR HAS IT HE’S PUSSY-WHIPPED [ RYOMEN SUKUNA ]
❥ more of best friend!sukuna & dean’s daughter!yn; there’s a rumour going around—that sukuna can’t get off unless it’s with you. but what else can he do when his best friend is avoiding him except to show up at your door uninvited and convince you that you want him too?
word count. 2.3k ♱ content warnings: female reader, nsfw - mdni, modern college au, best friend!sukuna, dean’s daughter!reader, sukuna’s a tad possessive, creampie, pet names (good girl, princess), fingering, lots of profanity.
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“Oh god, Suku—”
Immediately, Sukuna’s eyes shoot up to glare at the poor girl, hips stilling while he quickly grows irate at her voice. His discontent shows through his crimson eyes, leaning down to her ears with a warning, “shut up, or I’ll fucking stop right now.”
Nodding her head, Sukuna shoots her a last warning look before slowly looking away, her half-lidded eyes shutting once more as he starts moving his hips again. Now that she’s shut up, all that can be heard is her bed frame creaking under their weight and the sound of skin slapping skin.
The girl’s slowly losing it, her head stuffed into the pillow because Sukuna can’t stand the sight of her, her ass in the air as he fucks her from behind. It doesn’t matter how fucking hot she is or that she’s the captain of the cheerleading squad. Fuck that because all Sukuna can think about since that moment four days ago is how he really just wants to fuck you.
It’s been a whole four days that he hasn’t seen you—and he’d like to think it’s solely because of your final year project, because it’s normal for you to vanish and cram yourself within books until they’re over, but it’s definitely not normal for you to not even respond to his damn texts.
Countless times he’s asked you where you are, whether you wanted supper, or hell he even dropped his pride and asked you to reply him. You’re driving him up the walls and he can’t take it.
In front of him, the girl—he can’t remember her name for crying out loud—is already creaming around his cock, yet he can’t find the mood to spill inside her or anywhere, really, because it has to be you. You have to reverse this shit.
“Cum inside my mouth?” The girl’s already on her knees, taking Sukuna’s cock around her fingers but he’s already pushing her away, telling her don’t bother before he flings the condom away and wears his hoodie and sweats, retreating from her room.
He gets on his motorbike, and fuck the helmet because he has absolutely no patience for it, sets the GPS to your apartment and revs off.
If you’re going to act like that day never happened, looks like he’s going to have to go to you and find out.
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When he gets to your apartment, your roommates let him in without question; well at least that looks like you didn’t say anything that bad about him, if ever. People have long since asked you how you tolerated being friends with him, given his perpetual need for getting into trouble and having you bail him out, but it works. They’re butting in unnecessarily for all he cares.
Sukuna’s been to your apartment more times than he can count. Ever since college started, whenever he didn’t have girls over he’d chosen to relegate to your bedroom and annoy the shit out of you. Still, you’d always let him in, studying or not. Maybe that’s why he’s particularly frustrated now, since you’re shutting him out.
The moment the door swings open, you feel the gush of wind hitting your hair. You’re about to give your housemate a snarky remark about it until you swivel around only to find Sukuna there, sharp eyes glaring at you.
Usually you’d make some joke about how he really shouldn’t do shit like this else people would think you’d have a stalker, but you guess his reaction is somewhat warranted. So maybe you didn’t think things through before fucking your frustrations out on him that day. And maybe you’d been avoiding him more than necessary because as much as you know it should’ve been a one-time mistake, it’s hard not to crave more.
Maybe he’s here for the exact same thing.
In an instant, the door swings shut and Sukuna presses you against the wall, minimal distance between your bodies, his thumb tracing your lower lip and his lashes fluttering against your own.
It’s irritating how just these simple actions can make you all flustered, and even more irritating that you can feel his dick under his sweats. He’s hard, hard as you remember that day, that day you can’t forget about even after trying.
“You busy?” Sukuna asks, as if he hadn’t just seen you working on your project right as he trudged through your door.
But it’s Sukuna. He’s the worst at sane relationships and even worse at communication. Of course, it takes an equally fucked up person to know what he means to ask is are you too fucking busy for me that you won’t respond to my texts or pick up my calls?
“Working on my—”
“Found someone else to fuck?” Sukuna asks, your explanation, or your attempt at one, falling on deaf ears.
Right then, you realise what this is all about, and you remember that this—whatever you and Sukuna are—is nothing more than best friends exploring hidden territory, working out the chinks in this… transaction.
You smirk, tips of your noses touching, his hips subtly grinding against yours. “What? Jealous now?” you tease, your hands moving under his hoodie and onto his skin, Sukuna’s eyes fluttering close as he tightens his jaw, the uncontrollable feeling of wanting to take you right here right now taking over.
Sukuna’s hand finds itself around your neck, gently pushing you further against the wall, his eyes slowly opening, those crimson eyes unyielding when he wants them to be. “Answer me.”
When he hears the no leaving your lips, he ignores the relief he feels, because why should he be? Relieved for what? He throws the fleeting thought of not being able to handle it if you said yes out the window too. You’re just his best friend who he happens to think is hot. That’s all.
“Ahhhh—”
Sukuna smirks when his fingers find your clit under your dress, pleasantly surprised to find you already wet. And god you sound better than all those other girls so he’s not going to shut you up for a while. He keeps his face nuzzled against your own, his hand slipping into your underwear, coating your clit with your own slick as he rubs around it because apparently you moan even more like that—and you moan his name, the reverberations and decibels just right.
“I’m—fuck, I’m busy, Suku—”
“Then tell me you want me to stop,” he challenges you, his middle finger plunging inside your wetness, your mouth falling open helplessly. Sukuna’s already winning, and he knows it, and fuck he wants to savour this moment because being the little fucker you are you might avoid him even more if you feel even shittier after this. The reason escapes him, though, because he knows you want him too.
As you feel your knees growing weak, you abandon all your other thoughts. Fuck it, you’ve been craving this since that day and Sukuna’s offering, why resist? So you quickly yank his hoodie off of him, his sweats and boxers shortly after, your eyes dragging across his body, muscles ripped and tattoos for days. He’s a completely different guy from your ex and maybe that’s why he gets your motors going more. If you were with Sukuna, there’s no way you’d be able to wait.
“Whoa slow down, princess,” he chuckles as you push him down against your bed, but his dick print against his pants says otherwise. Even then, as you hover over him on your knees, your hands teasing at the hem of your dress, Sukuna looks at you shamelessly, his eyes savouring every inch of your body that it can devour. When you take your dress off, achingly slow, he swallows the lump in his throat, your lace black lingerie practically begging to be taken off. “Fucking beautiful.”
You sit on top of him, both of you equally aroused, his cock throbbing against your clothed clit and your hips instinctively grinding against him. His hands grip your waist, pushing you down on him even more.
“Someone’s impatient,” you comment, scrunching your nose, the way he’s struggling to control himself underneath you making you giggle. “Have you only been able to cum by jerking off to me?”
You’re really a piece of work, Sukuna’ll give you that. That smug grin and those perfect tits, you should be illegal. Still, he hooks his index finger around your bra, pulling you down to him so you’re face to face.
“That’s right, still gonna make me wait?” Because you’re right, no matter how much he’d rather you weren’t. Jerking off in his room remembering what you looked like writhing under him isn’t the worst, so he’ll admit it.
Just like that, a simple little admittance and you’re already a little stunned, and Sukuna’s a little too frustrated—from both his earlier tryst and the four days of waiting—to wait anymore. Taking advantage of your slight falter, he pushes your underwear to the side, pushing slowly inside you—just because he likes to see your face when he does.
“T-too big—” you squeeze your eyes shut, his cock threatening to split you open.
Sukuna pulls your hair to one side, tucking a lock behind your ear, gentle fingers pulling your cheeks down for a quick peck on the forehead. “Then I guess we’d better make you get used to it, huh?”
You let the uncharacteristically tender kiss fly over your head, too consumed by the pleasure to fully comprehend anything. By the time he’s fully inside you, all you hear is his hushed whispers of good girl and then move. Last you remember, you’d intended to make him beg for it but somehow you’re already listening to him, your hips moving and chasing that same pleasure Sukuna’s looking for. His hands move up to undo your clasp, letting your bra fall off your body and onto the floor.
Looking at you like this, underwear pushed to the side, perfect tits bouncing as he fucks you, your pretty face threatening to break apart—Sukuna can’t help but groan because fuck has he said you’re perfect?
Unlike everyone else, with you, he can feel the high coming. When you move like that, when you clench around him so tight, even just by the sound of your saccharine moans; Sukuna’s already so dangerously close. Why is it so easy for you?
“Close already?”
There you go again, you and your teasingly smug voice, though it’s not irritating when it comes from you. No, when it comes from you, it’s sexy.
“All your fucking fault for making me wait so long,” he hisses through broken moans, both of you drowning in each other.
You take the initiative this time, kissing him just to shut him up, though you’re amused by just how much you managed to get under his skin by doing so little. “Mmm, thought it was more fun that way.”
A total lie, but much better than letting him know that you were vexed about any possible feelings that could come in between your friendship. Probably not from Sukuna, you think, because he has a track record for never being compassionate about any human being ever. Sometimes you think he’s the devil incarnate and that you’re lucky enough to be the one exception to his cardinal rule of being an asshole to everyone.
Sukuna grips your ass all of a sudden, squeezing it tight before releasing suddenly and giving it a tight slap, the sting making you squeal. “Do that again and you’ll get to know just how much I want you.”
There’s something in the way he says that that sounds enticing to you. Either that, or it’s the underlying meaning that you’re not all too sure of. Either way, you involuntarily clench around him and he chuckles upon noticing it, your embarrassment overridden by the surge of emotions you feel as he kisses you again, this time softly, although his hips move the opposite, faster and faster as he tells you “cum with me.”
And you do, his fervent thrusts sending you off the edge, his cum shooting inside of you for the third time this week—a record that the both of you intend on breaking somehow because now that you’ve had a real taste of things, it’s growing into an addiction.
“Ah fuck—you’re still so- fucking tight,” he hisses as you try to pull away, his eyes watching intently as his cum trickles down your thighs, an undeniable fact that right now, that’s where he belongs, between your thighs and no one else’s. Somehow, you collapse on top of him, and it’s nothing new by now—but unlike every other girl, he won’t push you away.
Instead, he lets you lay on top of him, hair a mess and matted with sweat, your underwear stained with his cum and your body melting into his own.
“Thought you were busy,” he reminds you, like the piece of shit he is.
You pinch him on the arm, something that you’re very good at because it actually hurts. “And whose fault is it that I got distracted?”
There’s a low rumbling in his chest, amused by your pouting. It’s at least good to know that he hasn’t been the only one frustrated. Judging by how quick you were to give in to him, looks like you were too.
“Hey, get up,” he whispers, smacking your ass.
You pout even more, tilting your head up to look at him. “What?”
“To shower and clean up, idiot,” he tells you, as if you’re stupid for asking.
But again, you know Sukuna better than everyone else, so you ask him again, “you just wanna fool around in the shower, don’t you?”
And judging by the shameless grin on his face, you have your answer.
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satorugu · 6 months
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In Every Era Part 2 (Sukuna x f!reader)
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She is the reincarnation of his love, and he plans to be with her in every era.
PART 1 HERE
Warnings: Blood, violence, fighting, angst, lots of fluff
Note: The readers technique relates to ice and being able to lower the temperatures around her enough to create it. If the text is italicized it is one of the dreams she had. All take place during the Heian era, both Heian era and the version of Sukuna in Itadori's body is included. Takes place during the Shibuya Incident, and quotes the episode's sub at times.
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The dreams hadn't stopped.
First, it was that night, the night she fell asleep in his arms.
Then she had another one following it.
Then a third.
It was always a memory from her point of view, so vivid she felt she could still feel his touch when she woke up. They were small, but they got her through the night, always sleeping straight through it.
That kiss was imbued with cursed energy. She didn't know how, but she knew that had something to do with it.
She couldn't take her mind off of it.
Every single night.
"Curses and mutations are mindless, you don't need to harness much cursed energy to exorcise them, although it is made out to be that way," Sukuna said. "If you make a hit on them before they can attack you, you have a better chance at survival."
She was sitting on his lap, up upon his throne. His body heat radiated onto her shoulders, his strong abdomen pressed against her back.
"Is there a reason you're sharing this with me?" (Y/N) asked curiously.
"So you will utilize this information when the time may come my dear," he told her. "Aim for the head."
"I don't think it will ever come," she laughed.
"You are correct to assume that," Sukuna said, putting a hand on her waist and pulling her closer to him. "I won't allow for anyone to harm you."
This was a trick.
The King of Curses wouldn't and couldn't possess emotions like these. He murdered hundreds of thousands, known to be the most powerful sorcerer in history. He needed something from her, to get her to trust him so he could use her and kill her afterward.
These memories were false, she was sure of it.
So she began avoiding Itadori, training after hours and for longer durations to be able to both strengthen herself and not be confronted by the eyes below his. In the end she would return to her dorm exhausted, forgetting that when she fell asleep she would be greeted by what she fled most.
Then a week had turned into a month.
"Master Sukuna had a gift delivered to your dressing room," the maid said almost timidly to (Y/N), as she bowed her head.
She made an emphasis on the fact it was in her dressing room rather than her bedroom. Being that her quarters were Sukuna's, the only part of the palace that was officially hers was her dressing room, which translated to a massive closet. It was filled to the brim with the nicest jewelry available in the lands, along with dresses he had especially picked out for her. It was also a known fact that the garden belonged to (Y/N), although it wasn't claimed by her. She fell in love with the area, so he made it off limits to others.
Unfortunately for her, he was away, handling a nearby village.
Two more servants gathered at the large double doors that led to the dressing room, opening them for her.
Inside was a large bouquet of flowers, white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. It was as if they were glowing, vibrant and perky underneath the lighting. The vase was a piece within itself, like clear vines that curled around the stems of the flowers and bunched them all together.
Next to it sat a scroll, bound together by a cursed energy imbued seal. She was quick to unravel it, reading the hand-written, inked message.
'Although I am far away, I will remind you of my love.'
'These flowers are eternal, they will forever stay by your side, just as I will.'
'Sincerely, Ryo.'
She didn't think much of the dream, assuming it was some way of trying to make her think he actually loved her. Instead, she lingered around the campus after hours, honing a new ability with her ice technique. Once she grew sleepy, she returned to her dorm, entering the dark room to see something glowing on her desk.
It was a vibrant and perky flower, with white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. While it didn't sit in a vase, it was unnaturally filled with life, acting as a light in pitch black atmosphere.
She thought she was hallucinating, reaching out a hand to pick it up, hoping it would dissolve as soon as she touched it.
The flower sat in her room for a week after that, as she continued to deny the significance behind it.
(Y/N) thought she could get out of having to see Itadori, but it seemed otherwise when another crisis hit.
A large curtain was cast around Shibuya, along with one at Meiji-Jingumae Station. Reports that mutated humans were attacking civillians inside were quick to spread, and both (Y/N) and Itadori were sent to handle it.
"I'll deal with the mutated ones, you search through the station for anymore hostages," she told him quickly, hoping they wouldn't have to interact much.
As soon as the two had met up inside the city, the eyes underneath his own appeared. They felt familiar now, a burning reminder of the dream she had the previous night.
They were in his bedroom, if it even could be called that.
It was larger than the average, with a desk that sat by an extravagant stained glass window, and a large table towards the center. The bed for the two of them sat against the wall, both of them already out of it, yet choosing to stay in one another's company.
Sukuna stood around the table, eyeing a set of scrolls as his wife sat at his desk. The chair was far too big for someone of her size, which he grew to love.
“I want to perform a binding vow between you and I,” he started.
“A binding vow?” (Y/N) asked, having yet to take her eyes off what she was reading.
“A pact bound through Jujutsu, except this one has specific terms accounted with it.”
As the words left his mouth he slipped his hand around her jaw, taking her by surprised as she looked up at him.
"I want to be with you in every era, as you pass, and once you are reincarnated. We will be bound together, it will be destined for you to wed me."
"And it's consequences?" she wondered.
"There are none, this vow is unable to be broken, it will see through that we are meant to be," Sukuna said. "And that you will remain mine."
She wasn't that knowledgeable on binding vows like the one he described, except for the fact it was supposed to leave a mark on your wrist. (Y/N) didn't have one though, so she assumed it was false.
A mutated curse barreled towards her, shards if ice being driven through it's skull as her pink haired friend ran down the hall. She flipped over it's corpse as it fell to the ground, attacking the others before they could make a move on her, and aiming for their heads.
The efficiency behind it was impressive, as she scolded herself internally for doing as the King of Curses had once advised.
And yet she continued for what felt like an hour, going through the motions up until the lights flickered off and she could hear fighting in the lower levels of the station.
Something was off.
(Y/N) jumped down the set of escalators and began running through the station that was almost unrecognizable. She could tell Itadori had fought here, as the remains of his strength imprinted different surfaces.
She was following her gut at that moment, turning down a set of halls until she saw a light bloom at the end of one. She could feel the heat as she got closer, as it formed an orange and yellow blur.
Screams came after the flames.
Two girls who had somehow survived being burnt alive, each coughing and holding onto one another.
As she turned the corner she saw him, Itadori, laying against the wall unconscious. He was littered in cuts, specifically his shoulder which was bleeding out. A special grade curse, Jogo, stood over him, a finger in his hand as he slipped it down the pink haired boy's throat and tilted his head back. She recognized him from the time he fought Gojo, as her eyes lingered over Itadori's figure.
(Y/N) could see the markings on his face.
She thought she might throw up.
"Don't waste my time," the special grade squinted is eyes at the three of them.
He went to lift up his arm and attack, only for it to begin bleeding out in front of him.
"I'll give you one second."
It felt like everything had frozen in place.
Silence in the dark hallway.
"Move."
The special grade fearfully jumped back, now a line of four.
(Y/N) felt her hands tremble, as sweat formed across her forehead and her heartbeat picked up in her ears. They were all that way, as the figure slowly stood up and brushed himself off.
Strength of a different kind than Satoru Gojo.
Overwhelmingly evil.
Fear that even the slightest move could lead to death.
He began to come towards them, as the wounds across his body healed themselves.
As his footsteps grew louder, she felt as if she might pass out.
Then they stopped, and he brushed his hair back in orderly fashion.
"You hold your heads quite high."
That voice.
It felt like there were invisible hands that wrapped around her back, guiding her down to a bowing position without control over her own body. She ended up in the same formation as the other two girls, as a wave brushed over top of the four that would have killed them.
"Did you believe taking one knee was enough?" Sukuna questioned.
The top of Jogo's head was cut off, considering he only kneeled. It was similar to a volcano, purple blood spewing out the top as he bled out.
"The greatest men bow the lowest, or so it goes. I see you value your heads quite lightly."
She could feel him looking down at her, as she stared at the cold floor and begged that whatever this was wasn't real.
She was terrified.
"You brats, I'll start with you," he said. "You wished to speak to me, yes?"
The girl nodded, tears staining the concrete surface below her.
"I'll grant you a fingers worth of audience. Now speak."
"Below us there's a man in monk's robes with a suture across his forehead," the dirty blonde began to say. "Please kill him, please free Geto-sama."
(Y/N) recognized that name, although she thought the man who had it was dead.
"We know the location of one more finger," the girl added. "If you'll kill that man for us, we'll tell you where it is."
"Raise your heads."
(Y/N) still kept hers down, although she could see the two girls raise theirs through her peripheral. It was a moment of relief, as he seemed to have agreed to their terms.
Red.
The head of the brown haired one next to her burst into nothingness, blood coating the other girls face as her corpse fell backward.
(Y/N) felt it splatter onto her uniform, shock pulsating through her veins as terror overrided her senses.
"MIMIKO!" the blonde screamed, shaking the lifeless body next to her.
"Did you think a measly one or two fingers would grant you the right to order me around?" Sukuna asked with amusement in his voice.
It seemed the girl couldn't care less, continuing to scream out her friends name.
"How offensive."
"SUKUNA!" she cried out in anger, slipping out her phone. "DIE!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, it sounded like a blade had cut through something. Similar to the one she heard months ago, when he had saved her.
Then, it sounded like several cuts going at someone at once.
One corpse turned into two, except the blonde had no remains. He killed the both of them without lifting a finger, a copious amount of blood being the only proof.
"You all are desperate," Sukuna turned to Jogo almost knowingly.
(Y/N) felt the invisible hands that once held onto her gently guide her to sit up again, looking at the King of Curses.
"This is the reward for the cursed fingers, come at her," he said, making eye contact with her. "If you manage to land even a single blow on her, I'll work under you all."
"What?" (Y/N) said under her breath, she felt like she couldn't breath.
Jogo slowly looked at her, as if he was making up his mind.
There was no way he was considering this.
"You're true to your word, yes?" he asked Sukuna.
No.
(Y/N) stepped back, like her legs were going to come out from under her at any second.
This was suicide, she couldn't fight him.
"Yes."
Jogos demeaner changed, as Sukuna's hands remained on his pockets and the curse went to face her. He held out his hand, a ball of fire forming within it, as (Y/N) tried to conjure ice in her own.
Again she was airborne.
Too quick for her to react as it all happened at once.
A familiar pair of arms held her bridal style, as she felt herself rest on his chest. It was cold, the fall wind curling around the two as they had fled the building.
He casually dodged them vast amount of fire-charged bullets being sent at him, as he looked down at her.
"Your avoidance has been quite amusing, I see you don't understand yet," Sukuna said, his tone changing into a softer one.
"What have you been doing to me?" she spoke boldly, like a wife would to her husband.
It made him smile, as he leaned on the edge of a building that Jogo shot more bullets at. Soon enough they were inside of it, Sukuna casually walking through a corridor as fire burned around them.
"That's my thank you for ensuring you sleep well?" he spoke teasingly. "I've been restoring your memories, although I knew you would doubt them to the best of your ability."
"They're not real," she mumbled, forgetting what he was capable of.
"And yet how relaxed you are in my hold says otherwise, little one," he said. "Your body reacts naturally to my touch."
(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply but the words never came out, as he jumped through the window of the building and met Jogo's fist. Sukuna was currently holding her securely with one arm, taking up the curse in hand to hand combat. He was quick, catching every single one of Jogo's attempts before holding onto his hand and slicing through his arms with his cleave technique.
The Special Grade was sent flying back, as he shot another beam of fire energy out of his head and (Y/N) watched it blow a whole through a building.
She had never seen a fight like this before.
Sukuna caught up with Jogo, taking his free hand that wasn't carrying her and wrapping it around his cape, throwing him down towards the streets. Smoke emitted from the area that he hit, as he continued to bounce off of it from the force before Sukuna came at him again. This time, he bashed his head into the ground, taking them below the level of the city floor.
She felt the King of Curses abdomen tighten against her side, as he laughed to himself. (Y/N) wasn't looking at him though, as her eyes were on the curse that hadn't landed even a single speck of dust on her.
His free hand slipped underneath her jaw, turning her head to face him.
"Impressed are we?"
Suddenly everything around the two seemed to burst into flames, as the blue skinned curse screamed out and flooded the street with Lava.
This was hell.
Sukuna didn't even react, as a wave of it blanketed over them, yet never touching their skin. He jumped up onto a building that was soon crumbling underneath the hot liquid as well, continuing to dodge without question.
The entire city was on fire, as hands made out of lava held onto two office buildings and lifted them up out of the ground. They surrounded the both of them, Jogo standing on a rooftop in front.
(Y/N) thought she was dead.
Out of pure instinct she took her arm around Sukuna's neck, burying her head into his chest and squinting her eyes closed.
It was only when she heard the sound of the buildings being bashed together, that she realized what she had done. Instead of feeling the impact of her skull being crushed, she felt a delicate kiss be pressed to the top of her head. A large hand then held her hair in a comforting manner, keeping her against him.
"Do you trust me, little one?" he asked her softly, low enough that Jogo couldn't hear.
"Yes."
(Y/N) felt weightless, like she was on one of those amusement park rides that threw you up into the air. Except for the fact that there was no harness, and nothing holding her anymore. Sukuna had thrown her up so far she felt she might touch the clouds, watching his figure dart towards the curse and throw him into a sky scraper.
She could see Jogo come out the other end of it, soaring through the air as Sukuna stood above him. The King of Curses drove his hand into the Special Grades head, sending the two through a roof of another office structure.
Meanwhile (Y/N) began to descend, screaming out and watching as the windows on each level shattered with each level Sukuna shoved him through. She grew anxious as time passed and nothing happened, until the bottom of the building burst out into flames and traveled upwards. She could make out the smaller details of the city now, as she picked up speed in falling and felt the wind course through her clothes. Her best bet was trying to use her ice to impact the fall, although she became distracted by what happened before her.
The building that Jogo had blown up began to form into a ball of fire, and Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.
Or so she thought.
She was trying to conjure up enough cold air around her to form the ice needed to brace her, but knocked into something else, throwing her off guard.
She wasn't surprised when she felt his heartbeat against her side again, but he moved at unregistrable speeds.
Suddenly they were on the ground, in the middle of the street, underneath the meteor Jogo was creating. All of the people around Sukuna froze in place, fear evident in their eyes.
Everyone knew who he was.
"I hereby forbid every person in a 100-meter radius from moving until I say 'now," he started. "And of course, I'll kill anyone who violates that rule."
The silence was horrifying, no one daring to take a step.
"Not yet," he teased.
(Y/N) could feel his hands underneath her weight doing something, as if he was now controlling the ball of fire above them.
"Still not yet."
The ground began to tremble, as it came closer.
"Now."
The sound was overwhelming, as Sukuna brought himself up above it as it crushed everything beneath. He sat down on the meteor, adjusting (Y/N) so she was sitting in his lap, his hands around her waist. Jogo was in front of the two, having yet to turn his back around.
The atmosphere around them was a swirl of orange smoke and broken glass that looked like stars. It floated gently in the air, as more debris from the architecture around them crumbled.
"I've grown tired of this, so I will fight you with your own specialty," he said, allowing for (Y/N) to get up as he stood and faced the Special Grade.
She stepped back, quick to cool the temperatures underneath her feet so she wouldn't burn.
Fire began to emit from his fist, beginning to curl around his figure.
"Arm yourself."
Jogo formed a small sphere of fire in his hand, as Sukuna stretched his own out to form an arrow.
The Special Grade burnt to ashes within a moments notice, while the King of Curses turned around to face the woman behind him.
"Your denial is in vain," he said. "There is nothing I am not capable of, and your death would have already occurred if i wished for it. In your moments of fear you trusted me by instinct, the vow formed between us guiding you to me."
"I don't understand."
"Because you don't want to," he corrected, coming closer to her. "Allow me to show you."
The king lifted her jaw up, taking his hand around the side of her face and kissing her lips.
It felt unworldly, as she slowly returned it and could feel him smiling. Her wrist suddenly tingled, making her to break away to see what caused the sensation.
It was a mark on her wrist, the same one that was on Sukuna's forehead.
"I will love you in every era," he said, taking a step back.
The markings on his face faded, his hair returning to hanging down.
"What happened?" Itadori asked.
She looked into the eyes underneath the original pair, not knowing what to say.
But she understood now.
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A/N: I have a part 3 in mind. If you're interested let me know!
Tag List: @daydreamshenanigans @witchmoon10 @@spiderlilytengu @sircatchungus @sunshine7queen @yandere-consumer @emryb @96jnie @frogzxch @toshirolovebot @rottinginvelvet @rorel1a @cax-per @butteredwalnut @sweetcoorpse @mynewblackdress @serafina-nyx @karmazwrld @gambighoul @honestlysublimecherryblossom @sy557 @mag-chan
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nanaminokanojo · 30 days
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POTTY MOUTH | sukuna x reader
–your toddler is cussing and guess whom he learned it from | Inspired by this ig reel from sullivanking. It's so Sukuna-coded and I just had to.
CW: just cussing
MASTERLIST
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"Fak..."
Tiny footsteps followed as your toddler tottered about the hallway into the living room where your husband was sitting, watching TV. You ignored it, thinking it was just gibberish your three-year-old son was saying, but then, he said it again, the vowel not quite sounding right, but you knew just why your ears piqued at the sound.
"Fak!"
Swiftly, you turned around, your feet carrying you to the direction your kid went before you know it, holding one of the clothes you were folding in the laundry room from whence you came from. He wasn't saying the word quite right, but still... You were met with an equally shocked Sukuna who was just trailing his little replica with his eyes, arms crossed over his broad chest as the latter just walked around the room, seemingly unaware that the two of you were even watching.
You couldn't make out the expression on your husband's face, but your left eye twitched at every single utterance of the foul word coming from your little one's mouth no less. It didn't take long for you to figure out how he felt as he sank his lips between his teeth, also unaware that you were watching him. Soon, much to your chagrin, his shoulders were shaking even as he fought the laughter that was beginning to spill over his mouth.
Then, again, in that small, innocent voice, you heard it again: "Fak." You gasped and both Sukuna and your child looked at you, the older of the two clearing his throat and trying to school his expressions into that of disappointment albeit feigned upon seeing the same yet genuine expression on yours. Your son, however, beamed at you and waved innocently. "Hi, Mama."
"Hello, sweetheart..." You sat on the couch next to Sukuna, hiding your face from your little boy as you glared daggers at your husband.
"What the fuck did I do?" he whispered, but your son heard it and giggled, pointing at Sukuna with his tiny finger. "Papa! Fak –!"
"Sweetheart, don't say that," you interrupted, shaking your head as you beckoned him over. "That's not a very nice word."
But your kid, like his father, was defiant, running out of the room, laughing in high-pitched tones instead of being deterred from saying that bad word again. And finally, Sukuna cracked up, his deep voice ringing throughout the room even as you started smacking him on the leg and arm, fending himself from your "attacks".
"Baby, why are you mad at me?" He jabbed a thumb over to the general direction your son went. "He's the one cussing." He was still fighting laughter.
"This is on you! If you weren't such a potty mouth then he wouldn't be hearing such words!"
He tried to gather you in his arms, pulling you over his lap and securing you there as he planted a kiss on your temple, lingering there and letting go with a loud smack, but you still pouted at him. "Oh, come on. It's not my fault he's so smart."
You narrowed your eyes at him.
"His Mama is very smart," he said, trying to placate you, but you playfully pushed his head away from you. "Is that a roundabout way of saying he got that from me?"
"Naww." He pulled you even closer until your arm was flush against him, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Baby, I'm complimenting you."
"Okay, but do something about it. Daycare starts tomorrow..."
"Oh." He blinked at you and you saw your exact thoughts reflected in his carmine eyes. How he's going to explain why his kid is saying such a word, you didn't know, but it sounds like a Sukuna problem.
"...and you're taking him there."
A/N: To all my readers, I assure you, I am writing, just taking a little break from everything. And yes, I have a bad case of brainrot, Sukuna being the culprit. Hope you enjoyed this though.
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20240329]
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chosopie · 2 months
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PART 2, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA
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RECAP: After Sukuna invades your nation and kills the man you were betrothed to, he decides to take you as his queen. You comply to his requests to keep your little brother Yuji safe.
SUMMARY: You had just been wedded to Sukuna, and now it was time for your mating ceremony.
cw: battle for dominance, oral sex (f receiving), doggy, hair pulling, riding, slight choking, breeding, reader is inspired by helen of troy
: ̗̀➛ part 1
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The ballroom in the heart of your palace remained lively with people dancing, singing, and eating heartily. Lots of women would wear outrageously flashy or expensive dresses that would, in their hopes, catch the new King’s eyes. They did not know Sukuna, for he would not even bat an eye at those kind of women. He has come so far to defeat every neighboring nation just to get to yours. He brought death and destruction with his footsteps, and let war sit on the right side of his shoulder just so he could have you in his hands, the woman kings and noblemen from every nation sought after. Your beauty was like no other in the world—so captivating that men would wage wars against each other to have your delicate hand. Your previous fiancé did just that, and quickly failed when Sukuna came lurking behind his careless back.
Tonight, you had just hosted the largest banquet anyone has ever seen. Such a lavish event is fitting for the union of the most beautiful woman in the world and the greatest conquerer man has ever seen. Sukuna patiently waited for you in his quarters, his muscular and broad body covered in a black silk robe with gold embroidery. On the other hand, your handmaidens were bathing you in soaps and fragrances that were made with the finest and rarest materials people can only dream of getting their hands on, yet here they were, being used to bathe your soft body. The girls patted you dry with a big and fluffy towel, then helped you slip onto your sheer nude lingerie that had diamonds around your chest, making your skin glisten in the warm lights. On top of that, you draped a large white silky robe over your body, the cool fabric sending a shiver down your spine.
You passed through the thin curtains and Sukuna was sat on the bed, waiting for you. He looked up, eyes immediately locked on your figure that was barely covered by your garments. He couldn’t help but envision your fully naked body, but he quickly shook those thoughts away upon realization that in a few seconds, he would be able to feast on your bare body. It would be all his.
“Come, woman,” Sukuna gestured you to move closer to him with his pointer finger.
You scoffed. “I have a name. Did you not know?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to forget your name after tonight,” he smirked.
“I’d like to see you try,” you slid off your robe, exposing your body that was barely covered by the lingerie. Sukuna’s eye’s wandered on your chest and down to your plump hips and thighs. You walked towards him, his eyes remained fix on your body as he watched each and every movement you made.
Sukuna looked up at you, his hands stroking your sides and tracing every curve. His touch was warm and it made you burn with excitement. This man was capable of making you feel so much. You could fear him, and at the same time lust over the fact that he could destroy anything within an arm’s length. The power in his hands made you tremble with arousal.
It made you wonder whether you were doing all this just to protect whatever remained of your nation and your baby brother or if you were just as power-hungry as the greedy conquerer beneath you.
You pushed his hands away and slowly took off your lingerie while holding eye contact with him. There was an intense warmth that radiated off his body. You lifted up your arms to cup his face and push it towards the heat of your pussy. To your surprise, he didn’t protest. Instead, he put his hands on your hips for support while he buried his face into your cunt, his hot tongue lapping at your wet folds. You legs shivered and the pacing of your breath quickened.
“Sukuna,” you moaned, and he suddenly stopped. He moved back, but his face remained close to your wetness.
“Call me Ryomen,” he lowly said, before resuming his work.
His mouth was skilled in its work. He repeatedly licked and would occasionally bite on your clit, sending a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. It felt like electricity, the way the heat and arousal would travel up to your body with sparks. While he sucked hardly on your clit, he covered his fingers in your slick, then pushed them inside you. You gasped, your fingers tangled in his locks of hair. You moaned and writhed, pushing his head closer to you. At this point, your thighs were suffocating Ryomen, preventing him from breathing, but he didn’t care; his mind was solely focused on making you cum.
“Ryo,” you tried saying, the word smoothly rolling off your tongue. “I’m close.”
Ryomen felt his blood rushing. Most people who dared to speak of his first name would often say it with such fear for their lives, but the way your voice spoke his name made it sound so sweet like nectar was dripping from the tip of your tongue. He groaned against your pussy, the vibration making you hiss. His fingers kept thrusting and curling inside of you in such a fast pace that caught your breath. The pads of his fingers were rubbing your sweet spot while his tongue continued to play with your throbbing clit. The pleasure started to build up and you could feel it on your lower abdomen. You let out a moan before releasing yourself, your fluids coating his fingers and chin.
Your husband stood up and took his robe off, revealing his toned chest, abdomen, the big scar that ran in a straight line from his chest to stomach, and his lengthy cock. He grabbed your hand and placed it right on the scar, letting you trace it with your fingers along with the intricate muscles on his abdomen.
“See what you did? No one has ever been able to get this close to me.” He whispered.
“I know,” you smirked.
“Don’t get too cocky now, girl.” Ryomen warned.
“Me? Cocky?” He grabbed both of your arms and pushed you onto the bed. He held your arms behind your back, firmly holding them in place.
“Fuck you,” you muttered, but Ryomen didn’t hear because your face was pressed onto the sheets of your bed, muffling your voice.
“Arch your back for me,” he said into your ear, his chest pressed against your back.
Your face grew hot. Complying with his request, you arched you back and pushed yourself onto him, the wet head of his cock tapping your ass. Ryomen groaned at the sensation and slapped your ass. It didn’t hurt much, but it stung in a way that only got you more horny. He parted your legs and rubbed his dick on your folds, lubing it with your juices.
He was way too big.
This was going to be your first time and you weren’t sure if you could even take him. With his length and girth, it might end up hurting you. You propped yourself up and turned to look at him from the corner of your eye.
“It’s my first time,” you panted.
“Good,” Ryomen smiled. “Be honored. You’re my first as well. I’ll make sure you can handle it.”
That was the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile. “That’s a surprise.”
“It is the culture of my homeland.”
Ryomen tightly held onto the soft flesh your hips, slowly pushing his dick in you. He starts thrusting with only half of his dick inside, but you already felt so full. His cock is so gritty is rubs every spot in your walls. Your pussy tightly clamps onto him, making his breath quiver. “You’re so tight,” he breathed.
It takes everything in Ryomen to not just thrust into you at full speed. He had to be careful with you, but every instinct in him is telling him otherwise. The sound of your pussy squelching on his length and the way both your fluids were dripping down your labia was driving him crazy. His mind was in a frenzy and his hands grew hot as he continued to feel up your ass.
“Too much,” you whined. “You’re too big.”
“If that was the case, why is your tight greedy pussy pulling me in,” Ryomen lightly chucked as he watched your pussy swallow his dick. The whole of him now buried deep inside you, making a small bulge on your stomach. His hand reached for your hair and tugged on it so you could face him. “Look how well your pussy is taking me.”
Your eyes were watery, not a single thought present behind them. Your mind was trapped in a haze of lust. All you could feel was the big surge of pleasure that came with each thrust. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead and your back.
“Faster, Ryomen.” You dared to say.
“Finally. You can’t take that back anymore, alright?”
With no hesitation, Ryomen started thrusting into you hard and fast, causing your body to rock back and forth, your tits bouncing with you. He cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading on them like dough. You could feel his dick twitching, eager to release its seed and paint the walls of your cunt white. He started panting and groaning, the pace of his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. You could feel another orgasm following through, the tight feeling making your pussy spasm around his cock. A string of moans left your mouth as you allowed yourself to cum all over his dick, your insides tightening then letting go, milking his dick as he came with you. He looked at your shaking figure that glistened with sweat under the lights of the room. He groaned your name and laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling your intoxicating scent.
The two of you stared at each other with lust-struck eyes. He was sweating and panting, his cheeks lightly tinted red. With his right hand, he grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him for a messy and passionate kiss. Your tongues danced with each other, eagerly fighting for dominance while the mixture of your spit dribbled down your chin. He lightly squeezed your neck and you moaned into the kiss. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him on to the bed. Your hands remained on his shoulders as you got into a comfortable position to straddle him. He cocked an eyebrow at you, amusement painted his face as he watched with intent.
Lowering yourself on Ryomen, you felt his cock slowly stretch you out again, easily sliding in because of how his cum had filled your walls. You repeatedly bounced on his dick, the tip hitting your sweet spot more effectively. Both your moans filled the room’s quiet atmosphere. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as the warm and hot sensation took over your body once more, your nails digging into his skin, surely leaving marks. There it was again, his cocky smile showing on his face at the sight of you using his dick to get off. It was pathetic to see you try and dominate him in this position, but you just looked like a desperate bitch in heat. He would have never expected you to be so needy for him, after you had put so much effort to convince him with your little facade that you were so angry that he had forcefully taken you as his wife. Deep down, he knew that you had been waiting for this.
Quickly enough, your legs grew tired, but you didn’t want to stop—you were getting close again and you didn’t want to lose the momentum. He notices the way your chest heaved and how your legs trembled from exhaustion. He wraps his arms around your waist, and pushed your body onto his dick, then lifted you up again. This went on, and he was doing all the work again, moving your body up and down with ease while he thrusted into you in sync.
“What a pathetic attempt,” Ryomen laughed. You opened your mouth to say a remark, but the only thing that you could muster up were more moans.
“Did I fuck the brains out of you already? Tell me who you are.”
All you could muster up was a pathetic whine. He was right and you hated it. How could someone inexperienced make you instantly forget your own name with his cock?
“See,” Ryomen triumphantly smiled, baring his teeth. “I fucking told you.”
: ̗̀➛ part 3
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yuujisuku · 1 month
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you taught me how to love, a sukuna drabble
tags: fem reader, smut, LOTS OF FLUFF, true form sukuna in the heian era, might be a bit ooc sukuna bc he's not a dick BUT FUCK IT I LOVE SOFT KUNA OKAAAAY, I'm a soft kuna defender for lifeee, sukuna calls u cute pet names btw, you guys should read this when you're sad and need something to get ur mind off of the day, ily!!
Sukuna loves it when his cock slides deep inside you, nesting his cock there as he finally starts thrusting languishly inside your pussy where it feels like home to him. 
He loves being with his beautiful woman. He loves being inside you, but he also adores just resting on his massive bed that you two share. His true form takes up most of the bed, but you prefer to lay your small body across his large chest when you're both worn out from the day. Sukuna always anticipates whenever you two have your resting moments. It's therapeutic to him. 
He doesn't remember when he fell for you. It must have been when you broke down his walls, teaching him that love isn't always a weakness and that he deserves to have someone by his side. That person being you. 
You moan as he snaps his hips and strokes his cock against your sweet spot. His thrusts feel agonizingly slow and you want to order him to go harder. “Harder, ‘Kuna!” You cry, wanting to feel his cock destroy your pussy, but he just shushes you and tells you to be patient. He wants to take his time before he ruins you, he wants to feel your tight pussy squeeze his massive girth before he claims your pussy with his cock. He loves the feeling of your pussy crying against him. He loves the tears you make as you beg him for more. 
He loves you. He adores you. He admits he would kill for you. He would kill to protect you. You are his and he won't let anyone take you from him. 
“I want to feel you, my sweet flower. Let me take my time.” He says, reaching his head down to press kisses to your erect nipples, catching one between his lips and sucking them. The sensation makes you even more wet, loving the way his cock hits your g-spot. His thrusts are getting a bit faster, and your soft moans are becoming more wanton. Everything about Sukuna is massive, from his cock to his body to his love for you. You still can't believe you could take all of him the first time you did. 
The way he's thrusting inside you changes suddenly as he picks up the pace. The slowburn was delicious but you're just glad you're getting to the main course of this meal. Sukuna pumps his cock inside you vigorously, and you cry out from the delicious feeling of his cock pounding inside you. You love that he's taking care of you, making you feel good after a long day. You want to cum around his cock so bad. You know you deserve to cum, you've been so good to him lately. 
“Does my sweet flower want to cum?” He asks, “Yes!” You cry, wanting so badly to reach the edge. You appreciate when Sukuna teases you, because your orgasms are much more powerful when he prolongs them. 
Sukuna reaches down to massage your clit. Your cute thighs are shaking a bit from how close you're getting. You adore him, you adore all of him and you're just glad he's here to worship your body and take care of you. You wish you were stronger so you could take care of him too. But you realize that you already do. You take care of him by being open and vulnerable, by showing your love for him and by being loyal. If being in love with the enemy makes you a bad person, then so be it. 
Sukuna is worth it.
He takes a bite of your collarbone and you finally cum around his cock. A few more thrusts and Sukuna finishes inside you. You love the way the hot spurts of cum coat your womb. 
“Fuck! Are you alright, my love?” Sukuna says, taking your tired arm that's resting on your stomach and kissing your fingers. “I wasn't too rough now, was I?” You love the way that he sounds concerned. You would have never expected to hear something like that coming from Sukuna, the almighty King of Curses. You admit he's turning soft. 
You taught him how to love. He loves you because you helped him open his heart to you, and that realization makes you feel strong, as if you alone were able to gain the love of a man who never knew love at all. 
“I'm alright, my king. Just…tired.” You reassure him. Sukuna chuckles as he lays on the bed, moving your body so you can lay your head on his large body. You choose to rest your head on the juncture of his shoulder. 
“We should get Uraume to prepare us a bath soon.” 
“I just want to lay here with you.” 
Sukuna chuckles. His poor baby is burnt out from all the love making and duties you had to fulfill for the day, so he'll let you rest for a bit before you take a bath with him. He comforts you as he strokes your naked back, just appreciating the feel of your body resting against his. 
“‘Kuna?” 
“Yes, my love?” 
“...I love you.” 
It doesn't hurt Sukuna when you say it. It's the opposite, really. Your love feels like a breath of fresh air. It's healing to him. He's so lucky to have a woman like you by his side. 
“I love you too, my sweet.” 
He means it. 
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risuola · 27 days
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IV — EPIPHANY — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN
Sukuna thought nothing can break him. He's powerful, he has influence and means to always come on top – or at least that's what he thought, because now he realized that he's nohing but weak.
cw: angst, blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 2,6k words
a/n: in this part i wanted to give you a little insight into Sukuna's persona. show the menace in him, show the threat and how he is when he's not influenced by weakness that is our precious y/n (aka when he's not confused as hell by what's happening in his heart). i rewrote this part four times before i was finally somewhat satisfied with it.
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You are safe with me.
Sukuna thought about the words with hilarity. The sentence so simple and kind, it felt foreign to realize that his own mouth allowed it out of his system. An odd sort of disdain washed over himself and he found it laughable that throughout his entire career of blood and murder, what made his blood pressure raise up was a lie he told you. A strangely comic amalgamation of letters and syllables that each time he thought of them made him more angry and more amused.
You were safe, technically, or maybe that’s what he wished to believe when he replayed the events of one very unlucky Sunday evening in his memory. It began lovely, too lovely in fact, but he chose to actively ignore the oddity of it – he came to terms with how easily you were able to render his senses useless whenever you came into the field of his view wearing something as pretty as the dress you picked for the date that day. It was in a shade of pink that you deemed similar to the color of his hair, a dusty rose, you called it, and Sukuna wasn’t sure exactly how much truth was that, but he couldn’t care less about it when you looked so drop dead gorgeous. When he watched you walking next to him through the crowded alleys in the park nearby your apartment building, he couldn’t help but notice only you in the mass of people around him. He felt like a teenager in a way, with his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage with pace similar of this after sprinting for long time. You were capable of triggering reactions in his body that he thought were long gone with the days of his youth but he was fine with it. As long as he could witness your beauty, he was fine with everything.
Sukuna laughed gravelly as the sequence of memories played in his mind – the dark sound of his voice causing two police officers outside the bars of his cell to tremble. Oh, how much he hated you and your stupidly breathtaking face for whatever the hell you did to him. If he could, he would tell you what he thinks of it right now and if not careful enough, he might tell you a little too much. Confess maybe. Yeah, he might do that someday. And maybe move out somewhere where you’d truly be safe. Where he wouldn’t feel like a fucking idiot for saying words that are so damn obviously a lie.
Moving out felt like a good idea. In couple of years, when he’s done ruling the criminal forces, he could take you out of Japan, somewhere far away and protect you from any harm. He’d take you somewhere warm, where he could shamelessly admire the way your skin tone looks under the golden rays of sun and the way your eyes shine and glisten like the most expensive and rare gemstones. The thought of you brought a wide smile to his face, as the picture spread in front of his closed eyelids. In the cold of his cell, he could almost feel the burning touch of your fingers tracing the shapes of his body.
* * *
Sixteen days.
It’s been over two weeks since you last saw Sukuna and it was getting harder and harder to go about your days. You missed him. You missed his face, his strong arms that manhandled you around despite your playful taps and tugs. You missed the huskiness of his voice, the low purrs he made in the morning whenever he’d nuzzle his nose against your temple inhaling the scent of your skin that he swore he was addicted to. And above all, you were worried and restless, and scared.
Whenever you closed your eyes, your mind was flooded with memories of the Sunday date you went on with Ryomen. He picked you up and handed you a little bag filled with your favorite mochi – the ones stuffed with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, a delicacy made in only one place in Tokyo and you remember how your heart swelled with warmth and love when you realized he had driven to that shop on the other side of the city just to get you few pieces of sweets. He was wearing his usual, black dress pants and a leather belt, perfectly polished boots and a dark grey sweater that made him look both casual and dangerous, with the tattoos around his wrists exposed under the rolled-up sleeves and his sharp features, that somehow whenever were turned towards you seemed a little bit softer.
You felt like a princess next to him, you felt loved and protected with his large hand enveloping your smaller one in his warm embrace. It was perfect. It was perfect until–
You didn’t exactly pick up what happened and how it happened. Even now as you think of it, you can’t truly recall how that tale-like evening turned into a mess that led you to lose your sleep every night that followed. It was a flash. One second you were leaning into Sukuna’s palm, greedy to steal his warmth and love and next one you were pushed tightly against his chest behind a bench. His hand, that was embracing you with as much delicacy as one would use to touch a doll made of porcelain was suddenly pressed harshly to the side of your head, covering your ear. Someone was shooting, Ryomen was shooting. You felt the impact of each bullet being extracted from his weapon. Each one of the subtle shakes of his muscular body reverberated throughout your smaller frame. You heard guns, despite his effort to protect your eardrums, but the loud explosive sound mixed with screams of people around was loud and clear in your head. An echo of danger and violence that you witnessed firsthand even though the man that held you did everything he could to protect you from the event.
You remember vividly the moment Sukuna groaned and cussed lowly. It followed a soft tremble of his large body and at first you didn’t realize what happened, but then you felt the unexpected wet warmth on one of your hands. “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he was telling you over and over again as your eyes began to water at the realization that one of your palms was covered in blood. His blood.
“It’s just a scratch,” he was lying to you, but you didn’t know it was a lie until you saw him later. The magazine in his gun was empty sooner than you thought it will be and the foreign shooting continued. It seemed like there were few attackers, but you couldn’t tell where all of it was coming from. All you remember was that you stayed hidden in the large body of your lover for the entire time until the police sirens broke the scene.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, doing everything in your power to hold back sobs, as he kept you close to himself. You knew that police couldn’t be good for him and if not for you, he would most likely run away somehow, but he stayed there, behind the bench, holding you tightly and making sure not a single bullet could land on your fragile body.
He didn’t look mad, not even annoyed, when he was telling you what to do next and how to act in the face of what was to come, and even though you had the hardest time registering it through the immense fear you felt regarding his future, you were nodding. He was calm, and you thought that he stayed calm for you because the scene of shooting was enough of a distress for you already. And then, you saw him in handcuffs, with his hands shackled behind his back, guided towards the police car. Cops that were responsible for escorting him looked almost funny next to his towering frame and if he only wanted, he would quite easily throw those officers away. But he didn’t. And he didn’t do it to save you.
You remember the last time you saw him he sent you a smile, more so a smirk, when one of those cops harshly pushed his head down, making sure he got into the car. Few moments later, he was gone and you were left with the mess of the crime scene and the burden of a witness.
Later, you were informed by one of his pawns that it’s not gonna take long, but you knew that things were serious because few days slowly turned into a week and then two weeks and he still was in jail. And you couldn’t go visit him because he said so. You stayed in his house, safe and sound in the bed you always shared with him, except now you were alone and cold. You missed him. And you were worried.
It killed you inside to think Sukuna might face charges. A life sentence, most likely. There was only so much that you knew about his criminal past and you were sure that he kept many secrets from you, that he wanted to save you from the heavy burden of his misdeeds and cruelty. You knew how dangerous his lifestyle was, how dark was the path he chose to fallow and you knew that even someone as strong as him couldn’t escape the jurisdiction forever. But why now?
You couldn’t shake off the devastating feeling of emptiness whenever you wandered between the luxurious interiors of his mansion. It felt like you couldn’t stop worrying, day in and day out you were thinking if he was alright. Was he properly fed? He told you that he won’t contact you while in jail to protect you, but all you wished for was just to hear his voice. You were worried about the way authorities treat criminals of his sort. What will they do to him? The mere thought of torture or interrogation filled you with dread and anxiety. You never felt so alone and helpless.
* * *
It took too long.
In fact, detention took much longer than Sukuna anticipated but time behind the bars was nothing but an entertainment for him. It was amusing, it allowed him to let loose. Surrounded by an air of sadistic satisfaction he didn’t get to experience in years, he played game of pushing and pulling, a game of power. Despite being enclosed and surrounded by dozens of officers and guards, Sukuna had a sense of control over his situation, and it amused him. He was enjoying the misery that he caused others, relished in the fact that he was feared and hated. It made him almost giddy. There was a twinkle in his eye and a playful grin on his lips, he relished the experience.
“I’ve got few questions to you.”
He smirked, sitting smug and relaxed. For the nth time he was questioned; a futile attempt of getting information out of him, yet another display of the illusionary power that authorities thought they had but lacked severely. It made Ryomen laugh out loud each time he sat against a new face, it pleased him, he loved the feeling of having the interrogator’s full attention. Detectives that tried to enforce the law onto him looked tough, each one of them, until they dropped their weight onto the metal chair in the interrogation room. The heaviness of the sinister aura was unnerving to anyone who dared to approach and the criminal enjoyed breaking them one by one.
“Do you?” Sukuna spoke, his voice low and menacing, but bearing a thrill of amusement and excitement. The heavy chains that grounded his frame clinked as he moved just slightly and the shiver that went down the spine of the man in front of him did not escape his watchful eye. “Afraid?”
“Hardly,” a tone of false confidence responded to the question and Ryomen chuckled. To him, this was a game, and he was winning. He found joy in annoying the interrogator, knowing that he couldn’t get anything out of him. It was stimulating, it was fun. It was a game of cat and mouse. It felt euphoric to answer the questions, knowing that his words were confusing, that he was able to mess with the man’s head, make him question his own judgement.
Years and years of being on the top of mafia managed to clear his memory of being vulnerable and the caricature of it that he was now experiencing served for a nice refresher. He felt excitement to play with the law and as he sat there, restrained by metal bounds, he realized why he became a criminal in the first place. The constant chase of thrill and power was what made him who he was.
As the detective sat there, intimidated more and more with each passing second, Sukuna watched the disaster unraveling with a dark glint in his eyes. He enjoyed every moment of the tension and knew that chills were running down the spine of his current opponent. He was imposing, savoring the fear and the exquisite feeling of danger that surrounded him. It was intoxicating, it made him feel alive. He played with the interrogator as if the predator would play with its pray, he stared at him with a small grin of pure evil.
“You’ve been stubborn this whole time,” the officer said, clearing his throat and straightening his spine to make himself appear bigger but to Ryomen, he was merely a source of amusement. The criminal stayed relaxed and leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between his own face of death and the eyes of the person in front of him.
“Was I stubborn?” He questioned, his tone low and menacing and his lips stretched slowly, baring the teeth. “You’ve got me all chained up and still, you can’t get your job done?”
“You’re chained up because of the potential threat you might pose.”
Sukuna laughed. A raspy and low chuckle came from his throat; a dark omen that hung heavy in the air as if signifying the upcoming danger. It was cold and malicious, an ominous showcase of his real persona, of someone who has no compassion and knows no mercy. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of sweat running down the face of the man in front of him. He exuded an aura of fear, leaving everyone in the room unsettled.
“If I only wanted to, I could rip out your throat with my bare teeth.” Ryomen’s voice was low, it was quiet and nearly whisper like but the message it carried was more than enough to freeze the blood inside the veins of the interrogator.
“I assume you’re familiar with the idea of good cop bad cop method,” the man spoke again after a moment of dread. He cleared his throat once more, squared up his jaw.
“And which one are you?”
“Oh, I’m neither, but allow me to show you something,” interrogator reached to the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a phone with his sweaty palms and pressing down few buttons.
The moment Sukuna looked down on the screen, his expression changed. A ghost of anger washed over his features as he took in the picture. Suddenly, he felt a wave of burning hot filling his veins and reaching his face; a dizzying sensation of dread and rage and then he realized that the power he wielded was nothing. With his eyes fixed on the little phone and his jaw clenched, shaken by the rush of adrenaline and with his knuckles white, Sukuna Ryomen experienced acknowledgement. An epiphany of sorts. The illusion of might and influence burst like a bubble made of soap and slowly he realized that he’s nothing but–
“Seeing something familiar?”
–weak.
» PART FIVE SOON
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ohnococo · 13 days
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Love Potion | Sukuna x Reader
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Sukuna shows a hidden side of himself, thanks to Uraume’s interference
❦ WC: 2.7k
❦ Warnings: Love potions/love spell, fem bodied reader (no pronouns stated, true form sukuna, heian era, light body worship (reader receiving), porn with very loose plot, vaginal sex, creampie, love confessions
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Sukuna doesn’t know what’s happening to him. His limbs are heavy, his head is spinning, and he’s moving so, so slowly despite the adrenaline coursing through him and forcing his heart to stomp out a fast beat.
One moment he’s indulging in another of Uraume’s carefully prepared meals, the next he’s dragging his heavy feet through the halls, seeking out the only thing that could soothe the tightly clenched fist that pounds away inside of his chest. His lower arms hang at his sides, the upper ones groping uselessly at the walls, as if his body were warning him that every little thought that he’d buried deep in the back of his mind with all the other things that had no use to him was on the tip of his tongue, threatening to escape.
Because he knew where his body was carrying him from the moment he’d realised he was standing. He’s tread this path many times, it’s one leading to you, his favourite plaything. He treads this path when he’s hungry, looking for your body to indulge him. He treads this path when he needs another pretty thing to drape across himself as warlords and sorcerers alike bore him with their paltry offerings. He even treads this path when he feels his favour towards you is becoming too obvious, but if he has chosen to turn his attention elsewhere he will still will his large body to move silently enough to watch you through your cracked door as you preen and slumber and lie in wait for only him.
This time he knows that something has caused him to lose his thick armour of control over his mind and body alike. As his feet move against his will he wonders, had some unknown curse been sent his way, or attached itself to him upon his return? Had some sorcerer managed to apply some technique to have him acting recklessly, risking it all, and he would be left with everything he’d built ruined once he’d finished up whatever his body needed from you in this moment?
Because his body does need you. It had needed you from the moment he’d last left you, it had needed you every time he went to someone else to satisfy his hedonistic urges. But no, he thinks, he has no desire to start challenges unfitting, no desire to claim that which is not yet ready to be his by way of encroaching upon territories unavailable to even him. His only desire is you.
As he finally reaches the door to your room, it comes to him then. The drink Uraume had insisted he have alongside his meal, metallic and bitter, but able to wash sustenance down all the same. Some spell must have been put upon that drink, and it’s led him here. With all of his wondering if he was being too soft on you for his reputation’s sake, he had failed to consider he was being too soft on Uraume. Soft enough to allow them to meddle in things which did not concern them, things Sukuna often wished did not concern him too.
That’s a matter for another time though, as his head pounds with his blood’s attempts to decide where it should be sent to, because his cock was already alert, as if it were a compass pointing him in your direction. And his face and chest alike are tinted pink with a blush betraying the feelings plaguing his mind and overtaking his consideration of why and how this was all happening.
Once the door is opened, and his eyes are on you, he isn’t thinking about anything at all, he’s just letting his body do what it so badly needs to, as if he’s in a trance.
“Lord Sukuna!” You’re quick as ever, sliding off of your bed to settle onto your knees, prostrate on the floor for your Lord.
His blood rushes so quickly he can hardly hear you, but the image of you before him, in a perfect dogeza, makes his head spin. He falls to his knees in front of you, waiting for you to look at him with your adoring eyes, but you know better. You know so much when it comes to him, though with everything his body was screaming for him to do you may just find out something new.
Eventually, just as your body tensed and shivers with a chill of uncertainty about his intentions in crouching before you and watching instead of doing, as he generally did, it’s he who moves you. He lifts you by your shoulders, crawling forward on all fours and nearly toppling you backwards in a bid to take up any space dividing you. It’s unlike him to lower himself to your level, and he can see an attempt to hide your confusion at seeing him on his knees like this. You let him move you, only adding enough stiffness to your body to stay upright until you’re propping yourself up with your hands behind you. Sukuna gets low enough, in what one could mistake as a bow of his own until he’s pressing kisses to the tops of your feet.
He doesn’t know why he’s doing this now of all times, and in a manner that could almost be construed as submissive. Usually this was an action meant for highly specific occasions: when your legs are up and he’s been fucking you until you hardly know where you are or what’s happening, when he bends his head just low enough to press a kiss to the arch of your feet, eyes on you in case you come to from your sweating, drooling state of overwhelm and see the odd slip of tenderness he bides his time for.
But now, your feet were the first thing his eyes locked onto once he had hit the ground before you. So he does what his body calls for without a second thought. It’s odd, soft even, until he wraps his hand around your ankle and sits back on his haunches as he kisses at the ball of your foot. Having your leg lifted up so high forces you to lie back fully, and Sukuna is pulled to close one set of eyes with the relief of finally touching you, while the other watches how your hair splays out on the floor below. The view of your chest rising and falling quicker moves his focus to your body as he kisses at your ankle, indulging in you even as his chest screams for him to erase the remaining space between you so he can be close enough to hear your breaths over his pounding heart.
He makes a steady path of kisses up your legs, yet another distraction of desire arising as he’s torn between the call of your softly parted lips letting out gentle sighs and the smell of your heat as you become ready for him as is your duty. His hands move to grope at your body, kneading at your calves, your thighs, your hips. The way you twitch in his grasp assures him of your readiness for him to latch onto your pussy.
It’s presented so needily to him as he spreads it and sees the glistening wetness awaiting him. Being so lucky as to have Ryomen Sukuna between your legs always results in his making a vicious and unrelenting move to have you screaming from his actions until you were crying and trembling and too sore for what would surely come after. You’ve come to expect this when he dips between your thighs, and he’s come to find a hidden level of appreciation in giving it.
Then he shocks himself as much as he does you when instead, he presses a kiss to your mound, drawn in by the scent and softness of your hair more than anything. It’s gentle, chaste, and he buries his nose into the hair there, breathing deeply and trembling slightly as he releases that breath hot and heavy through his mouth. He opens wide, as if he means to finally dive in as you’d both been anticipating, but only presses his lips there and breathes you in, as if he could taste your essence just from having his mouth so near. He nuzzles at the soft hair again, before sliding his nose upwards until he’s kissing at your hip.
His path makes another diversion as he moves further and his tongue circles your belly button. It sends a shiver through you, before he’s returning to making his way up your body, scooping you off of the floor and onto his lap as he does. Kisses and touches alike are soft enough that you’re covered in goosebumps, nipples hardened and body already preparing for him to sink you down on him. Instead, he only holds you close, rocking back and forth gently as he buries his face between your breasts and slides your open robe off of your shoulders to pool on the floor behind you.
When you relax into him, sighing and cooing like he’s never experienced before, he’s overcome with an odd feeling in his chest. A tightness even more intense than before, like his lungs were failing him, like his heart was bound so tightly it had to fight to beat and keep his blood stuck in its preternatural rush. Every move you make seems to push his mind and body further out of his control, as if he were acting on instinct alone - except his instincts aren’t telling him to tear you apart and bury himself in what is his, they’re telling him to surround you and fill you and let you fill him until his senses know nothing else.
Another string knots itself around his bound heart as you lean back in his grasp, exposing your neck to him. He’s quick to bring his affections upwards to the sensitive skin, licking up your throat and sucking at the spot between your jaw and neck. He nuzzles into you there, breathing you in deep, making a groan so low and drawn out it was as if he were purring like a cat.
“Touch me.” Hearing his own voice startles him, low and breathy rather than his usual demanding growl or lilting disinterest, and you’re quick to obey as you wrap your arms around him, running your hands across his broad shoulders.
“Yes.” This he can feel himself letting loose, a hiss sent straight from his chest, then from somewhere lower as his next order comes a little more forcefully. “More.”
You run your hands along what you can reach of his upper back, as if soothing his heated skin, and everywhere your touch connects has his eyes rolling, head lolling back as he separates his face from you for the first time since his lips had connected. He feels like he needs to straighten himself to breathe properly, lifting you higher as his hips rise and his tired eyes look towards the obscured heavens.
Each inhale is laboured, each exhale that low purr, as you drag your hands up, over the back of his neck, tilting his head forward to rest on your shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair, sending shivers through him, and the sensory overload of your touch, your skin on his, your scent clouding the murky waters of his mind, trickles down to converge in his aching cock.
It finally reminds him of why his body had brought him here, and what was needed to soothe it and stop the way it screams for you. If only he could focus, but your movements continue because he hasn’t told you to stop - he can’t - and hairs stand on end as you massage at his scalp, then run your fingers back down until you’re caressing his thick neck again. You lean back in his strong arms, held up by only him as he separates your bodies for you to run your hands over his chest. Fingertips tickle at his clavicles, and his breath stutters. When your hands slide gently over his nipples, he swallows hard, and as your hands are drawn back upward he wonders if your body hears the call of his.
You trace the sides of his neck, increasing the intensity until his eyes stop rolling long enough to focus on yours. Sukuna realises that whatever you chose to do to him right now, he couldn’t stop you, or rather wouldn’t, and were he more coherent such a thought might frighten him. It doesn’t though. With his eyes locked on yours he’s gone, floating above his body, falling into yours, breathing when you breathe, blinking when you blink, until you seem to understand that for the moment you are in control.
His chest tightens further when your first act of control is to kiss him, lips soft and wet on his cheek, just below his eyes. The action is mirrored on the other side as well, a little more firmly, and then you hook one arm around the back of his neck, reaching down below to line him up with your entrance.
The Ryomen Sukuna he believes himself to truly be returns to him for a moment, as he buries himself in your warmth in one smooth motion, eyes rolling back as he does. He holds you firmly at the hips with two hands, the others retaining the new gentleness he’d been offering you as they slide over your body and feel your every muscle tensing as you squirm and adjust to the stretch of having all of him so quickly.
When you wrap your legs around him, clinging to him as tightly as you can manage, he’s wound even tighter - breath forced from his lungs as he feels as if every inch of you is connected to him. He rocks you both, not in a way that slides his cock against you, in a way that soothes you both. Until your body relaxes, melting into him fully. Your forehead pressed to his, your hands gripping and kneading at the back of his neck, dipping into his hair every so often, your eyes focused on his as if you were waiting for whatever would be set loose once the bindings on his heart snapped.
He feels like he’s floating, like every muscle in his body except for his heart were fully relaxed and carried on the current of his emotions, and it isn’t until the soft ring of your rising moans reaches his ears that he realises he’s been thrusting up into you for some time. You rock into those thrusts, clinging to him, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead with soft sighing lips. As for Sukuna, he hardly knows what noises he’s making, or anything that his body is doing except for chasing the high of keeping the two of you connected wherever possible. His eyes take turns rolling or watching you reverently, letting the moment wash over him, scatter him through the current, and rebuild him anew as you clench at him.
In time - though how much time has passed he cannot say - there comes a distant echo, cutting through the haze of the sounds of your breaths and bodies colliding. It sounds very much like his own voice, though he has no clue which mouth is chanting on his behalf. He can’t focus on the words, not that he needs to, as the tightness in his chest begins to snap, little by little, forcing him to face the truth of those words as his body speaks them.
You grip him tightly enough that he can be sure it is not the mouth on his stomach speaking them, because they ring loud and clear in his mind, through the fog that had brought them forth in the first place. Then, you kiss him, and they stop, as his lips busy themselves with drinking in your moans, tangling his tongue with yours, feeling your mouth slide against his.
Then you’re saying them back, and his heart is released, beating wildly enough that it can no longer be restrained. He lets out a noise unlike him, a plea, a prayer, a wilting bellow as he releases inside of you and you squeeze and pull everything he has to offer with the intensity of your body following him through the waves.
You repeat it back to him again, breathlessly, and each utterance waves away the fog in his brain until his own response is the clearest thought he’s had since that drink had passed his lips.
“I love you.”
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