#sukuna imagine

[emmyrosee]

I need to bite sukunas biceps SO BADDD

Im so atrociously down bad for this man 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

LUCKY FOR BOTH OF US, I CAN MAKE THAT HAPPEN!

-

Sukuna's been... bulked, these days.

Even from the beginning stages of your relationship, he's always had muscle, but lately he's been focusing more on weights to really, really bulk those muscles. His thighs strain in his pants, his pecs are tight in his shirts, and every now and again, some threads pop as he tugs his shirts over his bulging biceps.

Biceps that have swollen massively in the few weeks of his program, biceps that wrap snugly around you when cuddling, biceps that you can't help but stare at as he moves and goes about his day.

Even now, as he stands in front of the fridge with his lips tucked into the spout of apple juice, the arm holding the jug is flexed slightly as his adams apple bobs from swallowing the sweet juice. You sink your teeth into your lip as he finally turn to face you. "What're you looking at?"

"Just you, violating my apple juice," you sigh, but in reality, your mouth waters at the muscles shifting as he shrugs. you slowly approach him with your eyes fixated on his arm, and one you get to a close proximity, you hook your arms through his and hold it close, nose burying against the muscle and relishing in the smell of his cheap body wash.

So good...

"Didn't want to waste a cup, didn't expect you to be awake, so I just- OWWWWWHATTHEFUCK?!"

You bite him. Hard.

You're not entirely sure when, or why, but you turn your head to sink your teeth into his skin and muscle, chomping down roughly once you make contact. Your nails dig into the other parts of his arm, as if to keep it from moving as he shakes you to get off. "THAT HURTS, STOP-"

You shake your head, and flick your eyes up at his. His face is scrunched in annoyance, but there's no real rage in his eyes, just confusion and discomfort. He uses his free hand, the hand currently not being absolutely chomped on, to try and push your head back, only being released when your giggles make yourself falter. He whines and looks down at the red, perfect imprint of your teeth on his bicep before flicking his gaze back to you. "ARE YOU INSANE?"

"You just looked too yummy," you explain calmly, admiring the blooming mark on his bicep. “The demons told me to.”

“I will fucking kill you and your demons,” he growls, his thick hand coming up to cradle his arm. “Get away from me you feral, feral being.”

You grin up at him, “I’m gonna bite you again.”

His eyes harden, “you wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I dare.”

“Get away from me,” he says, a panic in his voice as you nod and step towards him. “Get aWAY-“

“IM GONNA BITE YOU!”

“FUCK AWAY FROM ME-“

[angelltheninth]

I need more sukuna fluff 😭

Fine but be more specific next time.

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, kissing, cuddles, immortality, reasurance

A/N: Ok I lied, there's angst too but very little.

Sukuna never thought too much about his immortality, it was just a part of him, one of his powers

For the most part he didn't need to think about it, it made him nearly unkillable and that was all that mattered

When you mention you dying before him it suddenly hits him, yeah no matter what you're gonna die before him even if he protects you for the rest of your life

And he will

What's important is to spends as much time with you as possible

Kisses you every day and tells you he loves you so you never forget and he won't forget either

There's a lot of people flirting with him

He doesn't pay them any mind

Did in the past, he had many lovers but now he only wants to be with you

Carries a picture of the two of you at all times and swears he will treasure it forever even when it falls apart

Long cuddles are part of your every day routine

You'd think more of it would be lewd but he mellowed out with that a little bit

Still wants it very often, don't think you're getting many nights of sleep

[jaegersdevil]

style [sukuna x fem!reader] summary: a collection of (cute) moments between you and ex!sukuna w/c: 1.9k a/n: bruh idk how these two are STILL exes, but it's a yes from me // yes, another taylor fic because i'm in love with her

sukuna 12:56am u up?

you audibly groan at the text, face scrunched up in disgust. sitting up in bed, you shove another pillow behind your back. your fingers fly across the screen, but only for a short time.

12:57am fuck off

throwing your head back in anguish, you sigh at the ceiling. and when your phone buzzes again, you brace yourself for the reply.

sukuna 12:57am ladies first 12:58am open the door 12:58am please

despite the abruptness of his text, you fly out of bed and run into the living room of your apartment. you stare down the hallway at your front door and peek at your phone when it vibrates.

sukuna 12:59am quit thinking so hard i'm cold

rolling your eyes, you tiptoe to the door, lifting yourself on your toes to look through the peephole.

and there he stands, pink hair dimmed against the yellow lights of the hallway, his head tilted back. biting your lip, your eyes glance down at his exposed neck, strained as he studies the ceiling.

stepping back, you unlock the three locks on your door (courtesy of the man outside) and pull it open.

your ex stands in the hallway, a sight you've seen too many times to count, and he tilts his head in greeting. "hey, baby."

you grab the sleeve of his sweatshirt and tug him in, locking your door when he's safely inside. when you spin around, he's gone.

you ignore the clink of glasses against one another in the kitchen and head back to your room, rubbing your eyes are you go.

glancing at the clock on the wall, 1:04am, your shoulders visibly deflate. you pull back the duvet and climb into bed after turning off the lamp on your bedside table. facing away from the door, you get comfortable, tuning out the sounds of sukuna knowing this place like the back of his hand.

"i didn't come over for you to ignore me."

you turn over. sukuna leans against the doorframe, sipping idly from his glass.

you flip back around, snuggling your head into your pillow. "i'm sleeping."

"oh, poor baby," he pouts falsely, crossing the room and setting his glass on his nightstand. you shake your head, your nightstand.

when you hear a rustle, you glance over your shoulder. sukuna tugs his sweatshirt and t-shirt over his head and pushes his sweatpants down his legs. you feel your cheeks heat at seeing him in only his black boxers.

he lifts the blankets and slides into your bed, avoiding your eyes as he does so. despite his naturally cocky attitude, along with his annoying habit of suppressing everything he's ever felt, you know him too well.

"c'mere," you mumble, circling your fingers around his wrist. sukuna says nothing and shuffles toward you, wrapping his arms around your torso, head on your chest. "wanna talk about it?"

he shakes his head softly, tightening his arms. "in the mornin'."

you nod, fingers threading through his hair. "okay."

you wander the building aimlessly, with a lunchbox in your hand and a coffee in the other. you know this place well, though once he got promoted, sukuna moved offices. but you wouldn't call it an office; more of a place to sort through employee contracts and qualifications and watch the cameras around the complex.

he'd complained to you over text that he'd have no time to eat today. so, you took it upon yourself to ensure your ex had an adequate lunch to keep him going, duh.

the sound of your name in that deep voice of his rings down the hall, and you spin around.

"i knew it was you," sukuna tilts his head at you. "what're ya doing here?"

you lift your hands and grin. "lunch."

sukuna stares at you, and you swear you'll melt from the intensity of his gaze. he wears his usual black cargos and a black t-shirt with the company logo on the left breast, but he looks more delicious than ever.

"seriously?" the corner of his lips upturns, and he bites his bottom lip to stop the smile from breaking. he fails. "you're so cute."

sukuna steps forward to wrap his arms around your head, his biceps flexing against your ears.

you smile giddily and circle your arms around his torso, hands hovering over his back. "it's a bento box with rice and steak and those little sausages you like—"

sukuna cuts you off by leaning down and pressing a hot, wet kiss on your lips, and you squeal at the public display.

"kuna..." you turn around the see if anyone is in the hallway to witness.

his laugh is deep and rich, and you can't help but watch the sparkling smile on his face.

"thank you," he mumbles, his smile fading as he becomes serious.

your face heats at his words, shoving the box and coffee in his hands. "just eat your lunch."

sukuna presses a final kiss on your forehead and turns around, returning to his office. "see you at home!"

you shake your head, laughing. "go to your own home, nerd!"

"sukuna, what are you doing here?" the smile in your voice doesn't go unnoticed. leaving the lab at 8pm was a drag, but it was necessary for your thesis, and sukuna knew its toll on you.

sukuna pushes off his car as you approach, his smirk laced with mischief. "picking you up," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

he meets you halfway, walks behind you, and takes your backpack off your back. you loll your head on your shoulder when he falls into step beside you. the streetlights are aglow, and you giggle at the orange tint on his hair.

"such a gentleman."

sukuna scoffs, swinging your bag onto his shoulder. "not the word i'd use."

"oh yeah?" you bump into his side, smiling smugly when he throws his arm over your shoulder. "and what word would you use?"

"whipped!" a voice calls from the car. your smile grows larger when you see sukuna's younger brother, yuuji, hanging out of the passenger seat window.

"yuuji!" you laugh, heart leaping in your chest. "when did you get back?"

after graduating highschool, yuuji and his two friends, megumi and nobara travelled around europe for a year and a half. you remember sending him off with a snack pack for the plane and a kiss on the forehead.

"this morning," the younger boy says, stepping out of the car. "been forcing sukuna to take me everywhere until i get my car fixed."

you embrace him in a hug. "i hope you had fun."

yuuji leans back—he used to be shorter than you, but now he's nearly as tall as his brother. "it was better than fun; i'll tell you all about it when we get home."

you glance at sukuna who's doing a great job of being silent, and get into his car when yuuji insists you get in the front.

sukuna never brought up the topic of your breakup to yuuji, it seems.

and on the way home, 'one way or another' plays through the speakers while the younger boy talks your ear off about his drunken nights in greece, and all the experiences that made him miss you (namely laundry and home cooking).

when you arrive back at sukuna's, you notice the disarray of the apartment.

you hear your name being called from the spare room, and your heart explodes, both in whose calling and the nostalgia of it all.

"here, i got you a few souvenirs," yuuji emerges from the room with a bag held out in front of him. "sorry i couldn't;t give them to you this morning, suk said you left early."

you have to stop the smile on your face from dropping at the last part. you know sukuna is standing in the kitchen a few feet away, watching you.

"yuuj!" you grab the bag, wrapping your arm around his torso in a side hug. "you didn't have to get me anything."

the younger boy rolls his eyes. "of course i did. before i left you said if i didn't bring you a miniature figure of all the sights i saw, you'd wash my whites with my reds."

the memory returns to you in a rush. "oh, yeah..."

yuuji's grin and pure excitement make you lead him to the couch. "put a movie on."

"yes, ma'am," he laughs. there's no doubt in your mind that he's putting on human earthworm 8.

while he's occupied, you glare at sukuna, who leans against the kitchen counter.

after you unwrapped all of your gifts, a generous collection of monumental landmarks, you excuse yourself.

shutting the door of sukuna's ensuite, you turn the light on and cover your face with your hands. you swallow and look at yourself in the mirror.

remnants of mascara have collected under your eyes, so you open the mirror to get your makeup remover out of the cupboard.

"have you eaten?—"

you spin around with a makeup pad under your eye, spying sukuna's face through the crack in the door.

you look back at yourself in the mirror, putting the cotton pad onto the counter. "i'll eat when i get home."

sukuna's deep sigh has you turning to him again.

"what?"

"you're not going home."

and when the door clicks closed, your temper reaches its limit.

"you did that on purpose," you scold, but the bite you intend is weak.

"fuck yeah i did," sukuna whispers. "i can't tell him, he loves you."

"ryomen—"

"don't start that again," sukuna snaps. "we've only been apart for two months."

you don't reply.

"hell," he throws his arm out to his right. "i slept over last week, you brought me lunch when i was at work! we haven't acted like we're apart anyway, and you know it."

you bite your lip. "we broke up," but the more you try to drill the fact into your mind, the less you believe it.

"what the fuck for?"

you scrunch your face up in confusion. "you know why."

sukuna throws his head back in exasperation. "we've moved past that now. i've gotten better."

"i know you have..." you mumble, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, not knowing what to say. though, when you think about it, why haven't you gotten back together?

"if yuuji can't tell we've broken up, then we must be doing something wrong."

tears line your waterline in frustration and sadness. "kuna..."

he sighs, running a hand down his face. he steps closer, softly placing his palms on your face. "please, baby."

you chew on your bottom lip, nodding softly.

sukuna uses his thumb to pull your lip out from between your teeth. "i love you, okay? i will get you back."

"you already have me," you laugh, a breath from the back of your throat, your hands grasping at his waist.

"damn straight."

"just stop leaving your shit everywhere and acting like a child in serious situations, and i'll move back in."

and when sukuna rolls his eyes (albeit lovingly) and opens his mouth to agree, you push yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss his mouth. he groans deeply and moves one of his hands from your face to the back of your head and the other to your back, pulling you closer.

"you guys done fucking in there? movie's on."

[satorusugurugurl]

Idk how you would turn this smutty. But I guess it doesn’t have to be. But how would the jjk boys deal w their girl being depressed or just not really liking herself

JJK Men: When You’re Feeling Depressed/Anxious/Down

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU),

Word Count: 4,090

Warnings: Mentions of low self-worth, depression, self-negativity, anxiety, fluff!

A/N: A fix for those of us who have those bad days and need a little pick me up.

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo noticed something was wrong from the exasperated sigh from the bedroom. Popping his head in, he watched as you threw a top down on the ground, joining the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your face was comforting between frustration and anger before you laid down on the bed, face down; your scream muffled into the mattress.

Seeing you like this, distraught and in distress, had Satoru padding across the floor, plopping down on the bed next to you. His large, warm hand gently rubbed up and down your back in soothing strokes. Only stopping when you slowly pulled back to look up at him.

“What's bothering you, sweet pea?”

“I just,” you sighed heavily, “nothing looks good on me. I feel dumpy, and I hate how I look.”

The harshness of your words had Satoru moving as if you had slapped him. “I'm sorry?” His hands cupped your face, squeezing it. “It just sounded like someone was insulting my girlfriend.” you tried pulling away from him, groaning as your hands pushed at him.

“Toru, stop!”

“No, you stop.” His tone left no room for arguments. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen: your face, personality, even this perfect body. Everything about you is perfect.” he was pleased when you didn't argue with him, “You don't like your clothes? You don't like how the clothes look? Come on.” he yanked you up, tossing you one of his shirts.

“Huh? What?”

“I said, come on.”

While wallowing in yourself, pity sounded like a beautiful idea. You knew your boyfriend. He wouldn't stop at nothing until you listened. So you reluctantly got up, dressed in one of his expensive shirts, before he dragged you out of the apartment.

Knowing Satoru, he would take you to some sweets shop and get you whatever you wanted. That was something you expected when it came to him. What you hadn't been expecting was for him to pull you into a boutique, the boutique you'd always fantasized about shopping at.

“W-Why are we here?” you asked, eyes wide as Satoru sat in a plush chair.

“You don't like any of your clothes, so I’m going to buy you a whole new wardrobe.” he leaned back, giving you a dazzling smile. “You shop to your heart's content, sweetheart.”

Your eyes moved around the shop, taking in the clothes you'd dreamt of wearing. “I-I can't, Toru, it's too expensive.” Satoru sighed dramatically, leaning his head back.

“I’m the head of the Gojo clan, a single child, and the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. Money is not a problem. I could buy out the entire store, and that's pocket change.” You twiddle your fingers, still feeling hesitant. “Sweetie,” you lifted your eyes, “have fun, you’ll feel so much better.”

Part of you didn't want to do this, to spend his money. It felt like he was a Sugar-Daddy when he presented you with extravagant gifts, but at the same time, he liked spoiling you. With a pout, you began thumbing through racks and pulling out tops and pants you liked before handing them to an awaiting clerk.

You glanced and grazed, pulling stuff off racks that looked good. Before you knew it, you stood in the dressing room surrounded by what seemed like dozens of articles of clothing. Would any of these even look good? Or would you still feel dumpy? The only way you would know was if you tried them on, which you had been dreading.

You pulled on a pair of jeans, a blouse, and some shoes before walking out. Satoru perked up, jaw-dropping as you stood in front of the mirrors. You looked—amazing. Your face mirrored his. You looked so pretty. The clothes fit you perfectly and complement the curves of your body along with your skin tone. For the first time all day, you felt good about yourself.

“Wow, just wow.” Satoru was a beaming ball of sunshine. “You looked beautiful earlier, but the confidence radiating off you is blinding! Strongest sorcerer in the world and luckiest boyfriend in the world!” You watched him pump his fist in the mirror.

“I feel perfect about this one.” you did a little twirl, looking at your backside.

“Me too! Go on, try on the next outfit! I wanna see everything.”

You felt as though you were in a movie. Going through a montage of outfits, all of which Satoru excited. He proudly announced to one of the attendants that you were his stunning girlfriend and looked terrific in everything. Ultimately, Satoru bought you ten new outfits, six dresses, ten pairs of shoes, and some jewelry.

You walked out in one of your new sun dresses, grabbing onto your white-haired boyfriend's arm. With a glance down at you, Satoru signed contentedly, squeezing your hand. You had a smile that could light up a million stages. His hand gently squeezed yours; your head tilted to stare at him.

“Feel better?” Satoru asked, giving you a wide smile.

“A million times better. Thank you, you didn't have to do that—” Having him spend that money on you left a bad taste in your mouth. Satoru could see how you avoided his gaze, how your hand tightened.

“I know.” The gentleness of his tone had your nerves relaxing. “But you were down, and I wanted to make you feel better. And from that adorable smile. I'd say I did a pretty damn good job.”

“You're so full of yourself.” Satoru swung your conjoined hands back and forth. “But that doesn't mean that you're wrong. You did an excellent job, Satoru; thank you again.”

“Anthrung to brighten your day, sweetheart. Now, let's grab some lunch! I wanna be the guy to take the hottest woman in the world to lunch!”

Geto Suguru:

Suguru could see it in your grin at work. It was a soft smile, one that screamed to others that you were okay. Everything was perfect in your life. But he could see the way that smile fell when everyone looked away. You weren't your perky, bubbly self, and that worried him.

Suguru waited until after the last of the students to leave before he walked up behind you, resting his chin on the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your waist. For a brief moment, he feared that you might pull away, that you needed space. He held a bated breath until you relaxed against his chest, allowing yourself to be engulfed by his larger frame.

He stayed like that, holding you tight for a long moment and not moving until you shifted from one leg to another. It was a signal that told him you wanted to move without outwardly saying it. So he released you, arms falling to his sides, hands sliding into his pockets as you stepped to collect your bag off the desk.

“Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, nodding your head instead of answering him. You knew if you were to open your mouth to confess that you weren't as okay as you claimed, you would end up crying. You knew Suguru could see you weren't OK, but he wasn't the type to pry. So he just wrapped his arm around you and ushered you out of the classroom to head back home.

When you arrived, you took off your shoes and jacket and began heading to the kitchen to prepare something for dinner. Suguru was faster than you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the living room, where he forced you to sit on the couch. He was lightning fast, sitting behind you, his hands gently rubbing at your tense shoulders, making you melt.

His fingers rubbed and kneaded the stiff muscles in your shoulders and upper back. His touch back in the classroom had been a comfort, but having him rub out the tension had you moaning as you leaned forward. Your soft mewls had him grinning, his fingers and hands continuing to move over your back.

“So,” he began, “will you tell me what's wrong? Or would you prefer to savor the moment?”

With a soft sigh, your body arched, leaning into his touch. “I just haven't been feeling like myself. I wake up a ball of stress, and I haven't been sleeping well.” A lump began to form in your throat as you struggled to find the words. “Works been a lot; I've been working twelve-hour days, that's not even including missions.” the tears you had been holding back this entire time finally escaped. “And I feel like I could do more for everyone and you. I don’t feel like I’m putting enough effort into everything.” The kneading of Suguru’s hands ceased; they remained still, gently squeezing your shoulders.

He took a moment to process your words, to filter through the pain and the stress that seeped through them. It was painfully clear to him that you were far more stressed than he had imagined. Situations like this called for more than just a back massage.

”I’m sorry that you have so much on your plate right now. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.” The couch shifted as your boyfriend stood up, scooping you into his arms and carrying you toward the bathroom. “I think you might need to take a day off for yourself and stop worrying so much about helping everyone else out.”

Suguru sat you on the bathroom counter before unzipping his uniform jacket. “But I wan—“ He placed his forefinger gently over your lips, silencing the protests and excuses he knew you were going to make.

”I know you want to help. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help out your co-workers and partner when a lot is going on. But you must also remember to care for the most important person.”

”Whose that?”

”You.” His words left your cheeks burning as you watched him draw a bath. “You want to help, but you can’t do that when you’re grinding yourself to the bone. For tonight, don’t worry about work, me, or what we're going to have for dinner. I want you to focus on you.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Suguru was right, and you had been working yourself to the brink of death. A hiccup was the only sound Suguru needed to hear to know that his words had struck home. Turning his head, bangs flowing, he shut his eyes as he gave you the warmest smile. You sat on the counter, wiping at your tired eyes, sniffling like a child as your boyfriends strode forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug.

”Let’s take the night to focus on you.”

Suguru ordered dinner, and as you both waited for it to be delivered, you soaked in the bath together. The aroma of your favorite bubble bath mix and candles calmed you down. Your eyes were heavy as you pressed yourself back against Suguru’s bare chest, humming contently as he held you close. For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself slip into a deep slumber in the flickering glow of the candlelight. Your deep breathing and relaxed features left Suguru’s heart feeling light. Taking care of you was one of the greatest pleasures of the world.

Nanami Kento:

Nanami straightened his tie as he looked over himself in the mirror. With a heavy sigh, he stepped out of the bathroom and into your room, where you were nowhere to be found. The bed was unmade, so that you couldn't have gone far.

After grabbing his keys and wallet, Nanami went to the kitchen, where you were. Cocking an eyebrow, he began searching the apartment for you. The living room was empty, as well as the other bathroom. He was getting ready to pull out his phone to call you when a soft sniffle caught his attention.

The sound resonated from the office, where, upon looking inside, he found you sitting on the floor. You were surrounded by a pile of laundry in the basket, a list of groceries you needed to pick up, and you were reading over a report. He was watched for a long moment; tears ran down your cheeks as you sniffled, your eyes darting around items.

It was painfully evident you were in the midst of a depressive episode. When you suffered through these episodes, simple tasks you usually completed with ease were overwhelming to the point you held off on them until you could no longer ignore them. Seeing you so overwhelmed and drowning in your emotions had Nanami’s mind reeling on ways that he could help.

For now, the two of you need to get to work. With a gentle tap of his knuckles against the door, Nanami watched you regain your composure. You were taking several deep breaths, wiping at your eyes before you stood up, grabbing a boom to make it look as if you hadn't just been having an episode.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Your fiance asked, watching as you hurriedly passed him with your head down. “If we leave now, we’ll have time to stop for coffee.”

“Yeah, I’m ready!” Nanami listened to your voice fade before he stepped inside, grabbing the grocery list off the floor and sliding it into his pocket.

“Alright, let’s head out.”

The day went by too fast for you as you sat in the morgue looking over the folders you still needed to file. All the deaths had been bringing up memories of Haibara and the young lives that had been lost in your line of work. You needed a break to escape the death that constantly seemed to follow you in your work.

On top of all the work that had you drowning in sorrow, you had been neglecting the housework. You had fully intended on doing it before Nanami got home from his latest mission, but to your horror, he got home earlier than you thought. Meaning he saw how neglectful you had been, and that made you feel even worse about yourself.

Before those self-destructive thoughts could overtake you, the door to the morgue opened. What you had assumed was Shoko turned out to be your fiancè. What time was it?! Was he already picking you up? You snatched the clock off your desk and felt your stomach drop into your ass. It was six thirty. Six-fucking-thirty, you still had to go to the store, do laundry, and make dinner on top of everything else.

“I was beginning to wonder if you planned on sleeping here tonight.”

“N-No, sorry, I just—” Nanami tilted his head, “I lost track of time.”

“Right, well come on, let's go.”

On the walk back to the apartment, your mind was jumping back between the unfinished files at work and everything that needed to be done at home. All of it was important, you knew that. All you wanted to do was crawl under the blankets and sleep. This suffocating sadness had its grip around your neck, choking the life out of you and rendering you exhausted beyond all means.

There would be time to cry yourself to sleep once your chores were taken care of. Thinking about the pile of laundry awaiting you had your skin crawling as you entered the apartment. The same apartment that had been messy this morning was now tidy and smelt like the cleaning products you used. Your head darted to the number on the door. Did you walk into the wrong apartment?

The pictures on the walls of you and Nanami confirmed that you were, in fact, inside the correct apartment. Which only confused you more as you stepped further inside, taking off your shoes. You speed walked to the office to finish the laundry. But the basket was gone? Okay, so groceries.

You searched for the list you had made, looking under some books, the desk, and your recliner before Nanami cleared his throat from behind you. “If you’re looking for the list, I took it.” Wooden floorboards creaked under his weight before he held a bouquet of your favorite flowers towards you.

“W-What’a this for?” you questioned, your fingers grazing over his as you took the flowers from him.

“I noticed you were looking down and stressed this morning, so I figured you needed a little pick-me-up.”

The sweet floral smell flooded your senses as you inhaled deeply. “Oh Kento, these are beautiful, thank you.” His large hand cupped your cheek, caressing your skin.

“I also cleaned, finished the laundry, and picked up the groceries. So all you need to do tonight is relax.”

“K-Ken—” Words couldn't describe the relief that washed over you, “you didn't have to do that.”

“I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to.” You were gently pulled in, his lips pressing against your forehead. “You’re my partner, my future wife. There aren't set duties that you solely need to do. We're a team; I can easily help.” Fat tears rolled down your cheeks just as you threw yourself into his arms, bawling into his chest.

Your future husband smiled sadly, wrapping his big, strong arms around you. His hands soothingly rubbed up and down your back in gentle strokes, making you cry even harder. Kento was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Compassionate, loving, and gentle, what more could you ask for a partner?

You cried for what seemed like hours in Kento’s arms. Never once did he get annoyed or urge you to hurry up. Once you felt incapable of crying anymore, you pulled back, hiccuping.

“Feel better?” Kento asked, gently cupping your face in both hands. A nod was all he received back as a response. “Good. Now let's eat dinner, bathe, and relax.” That is precisely what you did, snuggled up next to him, dozing off as he stroked your head. His eyes raked over the page of his newest book. All the worries faded as you drifted to sleep, engulfed in the warmth of his body.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU)

“I-Is it gonna hurt?” The young eighteen-year-old girl asked as Sukuna held her lip with sterile forceps.

“If I said yes, would it make you feel better?” Sukuna snickered, holding up a large needle.

“N-No?”

“Then let me do my job.”

With a stab, yelp, and one ring later, Sukuna watched the girl wiping tears away as she checked out. He was snickering as he sterilized his workstation. There is a fifty-fifty chance she'll keep it or not. But he got to get one hundred percent of the tip regardless. So he couldn't complain.

“Sukuna,” Geto called from outside his room, holding the shop's phone. “It’s for you.”

With a glance at the clock, Sukuna could make a couple of guesses as to who would be calling him at work at two-thirty on a Thursday afternoon. Either one of his little brothers got into a fight, and the school was calling, or it was one of his clients calling to reschedule with him. Hoping for the second possibility, he huffed an annoyed sigh, taking the phone from his co-worker.

”This is Sukuna.” The line was silent, almost too quiet. “Hello?” He asked, tapping his fingers against the client's chair. “Look, I got important stuff to do, so if no one is bleeding or needs my attention, I’m hanging up.”

A whimper stopped him from pressing the red phone icon on the phone. He knew that voice all too well. It belonged to you, his girlfriend of two months. Why the fuck were you crying? Panic settled in his chest as he stood up, his chair rolling away as he held the phone flush against his ear with his shoulder.

”Babe?” He asked, getting another whimper in response. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Geto and the others had all gathered around, exchanging worried glances with each other as Sukuna rushed to grab his jacket and helmet from his locker. “Hey, I need you to tell me what’s happening.”

”I-I’m sorry —“ Soft sobs sounded from the line, “I had a terrible anxiety attack, and work sent me home, and I just feel so out of it. I know you’re at work, but I need you.”

“Do ya’ really think I give a fuck about work when you feel like this?” His voice came out a bit harsher than he wanted. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—-“

Fuck, he knew better than to snap when you were in the midst of an attack like this. “No, you’re okay. I need you to tell me where I need to go.” Sukuna held his breath, waiting for you to respond.

”M-My apartment.”

”Unlock the door; I’ll be there in ten.” A soft sob between understanding and goodbye sounded from the other line just as he hung up. “Geto—“

His co-worker was typing on his phone. “I’m texting Satoru now; he’ll pick up Yuuji and Choso. I’ll call and rebook your other appointments. Get out of here.” Sukuna gave him a thumbs up and a sharp ‘thanks’ before he bolted out of the shop.

Just like he had promised you, he made it to your apartment in less than ten minutes, bolting up the stairs and turning a sharp corner before throwing open your door. He locked the door, threw off his shoes, and hurried to the one place he knew you’d be at. Sure enough, he found you under the sheets in bed, curled in a fetal position.

Your body shook with sobs, ones that made Sukuna feel like someone was twisting a knife into his stomach. He truly hated your anxiety attacks just as much as you did. Not because he had to help you through the tremors and tears. But because he hated seeing how much they wrecked you.

You were amid a choked sob when the bed sheets lifted, and your boyfriend's musky amber scent flooded your senses. His smell alone had your grip on the sheets loosening as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His body was so far, his hands gentle as you buried your face into his side, crying roughly, your tears soaking his shirt.

”Shh, it’s alright, brat, let it out. I got you; you’re going to be just fine.”

The sadness that clutched you tightly began to fade as he continued whispering into your ear. His soft words and gentle praises had you curling closer into him. Your boyfriend was the best at bringing you back into reality. He was your life preserver, holding you afloat in the sea of melancholy that would have drowned you by now.

This was the reason he was the one person you called in situations like this. Where the sadness was too much for you to carry or when your anxiety felt like it had possessed you, Sukuna was there to ground you and bring you back to your senses. Days like these were when you thanked whoever spun the bottle the night you played Seven Minutes in Heaven.

”You good?” Sukuna asked as he felt your trembles die out.

”Yeah, I’m just sorry I called you at work. For something so miniscule over an anxiety attack.”

Sukuna hummed and flicked your forehead with a painful—thump before he pulled your body closer to his own. “I gave you the phone number for the shop for a reason, brat.” His finger ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. “I care about you; I want you to call me when you're feeling down or if you need me.” There was a particular hint of shyness to his tone before he cleared his throat. “So what happened?”

“Do I have to talk about it?” You questioned with a sigh. “I just want to lay here and relax with you.”

“Babe,” pulled you tighter against him. “We can do whatever you want. No questions asked.”

You got what you wanted, and that was him by your side, grounding you. He made instances like this easier to deal with. Just his presence alone was enough to make you feel like everything was going to be okay. All because Sukuna was by your side.

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you stood a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame. The robe slipped from your shoulders, revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly tight, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you—I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing of his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic speech.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, bearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye cruelly absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re—you’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 ? 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐑𝐘𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ! (𝒮𝒰𝒦𝒰𝒩𝒜 𝑅𝒴𝒪𝑀𝐸𝒩)

sukuna ryōmen x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ rough sex ﾉ reader is in heat ﾉ huge size kink ﾉ creampie ﾉ slight tit play ﾉ slight dacryphilia ﾉ breeding kink ﾉ sukuna calls you 'mama' ﾉ mentions of having a baby ﾉ vaginal fingering ﾉ dildo ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ not proofread ! ૮Ꮚ ◞ ก ꒱১

never written 4 'kuna b4 ,, i had this on hold 4 a while, was jus . . rottin in my drafts 4 liek . . weeks . soooo i figured i shld finally finish it ! ^^ art credits go 2 @/NC9__ on twitter ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

You couldn't stop panting, the air around you humid and thick, heavy with the scent of your arousal. It was hard to concentrate, your mind foggy, your thoughts jumbled, your body overheating. Your skin was tingling, your stomach twisting in knots, a dull ache in your core. You were laying on your side, your body curled up, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you. The soft cotton of your shirt rubbed against your sensitive nipples, the friction causing a spark of pleasure to run through your veins, the muscles in your abdomen clenching, a moan slipping past your lips. Slick ran down your thighs as you squirmed, the girthy base of the toy buried inside of you making it impossible to move too much. Your walls were already fluttering around it, the stretch burning, your clit throbbing with every beat of your heart.

A low, guttural groan rumbled through the air, the bed dipping as the weight shifted, the mattress squeaking as Sukuna's large body moved closer. A rough, calloused hand cupped your ass, giving it a firm squeeze, causing you to whimper. "What's the matter, hm?" Sukuna's deep voice asked, his other hand sliding down the side of your leg, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You whined, rolling over onto your back, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your legs spread wider, exposing your dripping cunt, the tip of the toy poking out from between your folds. "R-ryyyooo.." You gasped, grabbing his arm, tugging on it, pulling him down until he was hovering above you. Your back arched, your breasts pressing against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck, nails digging into his skin. "N-need you.." You whispered, pressing your face against his neck, nuzzling it, inhaling deeply. "Mmmh, please, please.." You begged, your teeth grazing over his pulse, nipping at his skin, tasting his sweat. "I-I can't wait anymore, I can't.." Sukuna's cock twitched at the desperate tone in your voice, his lips curling into a smirk. "M-maki-ing me wait… s' not fair.."

"You've waited this long, what's a little longer, angel?" He cooed, one hand moving down to stroke your inner thigh, the other gripping your chin, tilting it up so you were looking him in the eyes. Your lower lip quivered, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, the ache in your core intensifying, the scent of his arousal overwhelming. "Please.." You pleaded, tears spilling from your eyes, your pussy clenching around the dildo inside you, your legs trembling. "D-dont want thi-this stupid thing.." You whined, reaching down and tugging on the end of the toy, the base stretching your entrance before popping out of you, leaving you feeling empty.

"Poor girl, so needy, so desperate.. ya just can't get enough, can you?" Sukuna growled, his hand moving to the back of your neck, squeezing it, his thumb brushing over your racing pulse. You bit your lip, shaking your head, a quiet moan slipping from between your lips. "C-can't.." You replied, squirming, your hips bucking. "Y-you do this to me.. only you.. y-your fault.. y-you made me like this.." You whimpered, grabbing his hand and guiding it between your legs, your eyes fluttering shut as he ran his fingers through your folds, rubbing circles on your clit. "Y-you make me wan-want this, need this.. make me crave your cock.. s-so big.. fill me up so good.." You mumbled, grinding against his hand, the pressure on your swollen bundle of nerves making your toes curl. "I-I can't- can't ever get enough.." You gasped, crying out when Sukuna's finger slid inside of you, the digit moving in and out, thrusting into you, making you mewl. Your cunt squeezed around it, a familiar pressure building in the pit of your stomach, your walls fluttering around his finger. "P-please, please.." You panted, writhing beneath him, your body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. "Please, need more..n-need more..need you..inside me.." Your words trailed off into a strangled cry when Sukuna pushed another finger into you, a loud squelch filling the room, arousal oozing out of your cunt, coating his hand.

Sukuna's pupils dilated, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest, his breathing becoming ragged, his nostrils flaring. He pulled his fingers out of you, grabbing the dildo and tossing it off the bed, the pathetic replacement for his cock landing with a thud on the floor. His gaze dropped down, his tongue swiping over his lips as he watched your hole twitch, the rim puffy and red. "Fucking gorgeous.." He breathed, his hands moving to the front of his boxers, shoving them down, freeing his erection. Venous, thick, throbbing, his cock was a beautiful sight, the tip shiny with precum. "Open up, angel." He said, grabbing your thighs, spreading your legs wide open, pushing them back until they were pressed against your chest, your pussy on full display. Sukuna held onto the backs of your knees, lining the tip of his cock up with your dripping entrance. You gasped, your nails clawing at his biceps, a desperate sob escaping you when he pressed forward, the head of his cock pushing into you, stretching you open, velvety smooth heat enveloping him.

Your back arched, the breath knocked out of you, your body seizing up as the pain from being filled by his huge cock radiated through you. Sukuna bottomed out, the thickest part of his length buried deep inside you, his balls pressed against your ass. Your walls rippled around him, a visible bulge displaying the outline of his cock on your stomach. You whimpered, trembling, fat tears running down the sides of your face, your body struggling to accommodate his size. "Y-you're so big, Ryo, s-so big..!" You sobbed, the burning stretch too much, the pressure too intense, your mind fogging over, a primal urge taking over, urging you to submit to him, to let him use you, to take everything he had to give. "S-so full..I-I'm g-gonna breaaakk!" A crackle of pure pleasure raced up your spine, stars dancing in your vision. Though it definitely hurt, it was a good pain, an addictive sensation that sent your head spinning, leaving you craving more, craving the blissful release of a powerful orgasm.

"Yer not gonna break. I'm gonna take care of you, sweetheart, don't you worry about a thing.." Sukuna purred, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. "Just relax, that's it, take a deep breath.. Ryo's gonna make ya a mess, baby." His crimson eyes glimmered with excitement, his teeth bared, his expression animalistic, almost feral. A deep, possessive rumble vibrated in his chest, a carnal desire coursing through his veins, his mind hazy, his control slipping like it always did whenever you were in heat. His hips pulled back, his cock sliding out of you halfway before thrusting back in, his movements slow and steady. The pain slowly subsided, the burning fading into an exquisite sensation, euphoria rushing through your veins. "O-oh-! Nnngh-ahhh, ahh, R-Ry-yo..!" The rapid movement of his hips forced you up the bed, the headboard hitting the wall repeatedly as your bodies rocked together, the wet sounds of sex filling the room. You were delirious, a constant stream of moans pouring from your mouth, drool leaking from the corner of your lips, your body moving in tandem with his. "Fuckin' perfect, mama, so fucking perfect, ya feel so fuckin' good.. fuckin' hell.." He moaned, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze locked on you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him either, his beauty captivating you, your heart skipping a beat every time his cock plunged into you. "I-I l-love y-yooouu.." You whispered, a choked cry leaving your throat when his tip rubbed against your g-spot, sending a shockwave through your system, pleasure exploding in your brain.

You were lost in the ecstasy, the intensity of it all driving you mad, your thoughts scattered. You felt feverish, delirious, dizzy, drunk off of the way he fucked you, the way he took complete control. "I love you, too, angel.. so fucking much.. ya make me so fuckin' happy, yer mine, all mine.." His nails scraped against your skin, the pain bringing you back down to reality. You nodded weakly, your cunt clamping down on him, your whole body going rigid, your toes curling. "O-oh, Ryo-o..I-I'm..I'm-! S-so close, m'so-oo, m'close..m'gonna-a-ah!" Your orgasm was building fast, a coil of pleasure winding tightly in the pit of your stomach. "S-so c-c-close..p-pleasepleasepleasepleaaaase.." You couldn't help but plead and beg, needing that extra push, that final little thing to send you careening over the edge. "G-gonna c-cu-u-m.." Sukuna smirked, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder, more precise. "M'sure ya are, mama.." He teased, his hand leaving your thigh and sliding up your stomach, his palm cupping your breast, his fingers rolling your nipple. You yelped, your whole body shaking, a high pitched whine coming out of you when his tongue darted out, licking a stripe up your throat. "M'gonna cum, too, sweetheart. Gonna pump ya full of my seed, knock ya up, breed ya till yer round.." He growled, his breath hot against your skin, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "S-shit..m'so fuckin' close, angel.."

You keened, his words making the tension in your abdomen snap, your walls clenching, convulsing, milking his cock as your orgasm hit. "O-ohhh, o-oh god..! Ry-yo-oo.. f-fuck, fuck, fuccckk..!!" Your back arched, your legs locking around his waist, your heels digging into his back. A loud, guttural roar ripped from his throat as he came, his cock pulsating, hot sticky cum flooding your insides. The feeling of his seed spilling inside you sent a thrill down your spine, the knowledge that he had bred you making you feel satisfied and content. You slumped against the pillows, panting heavily, the aftershocks of your orgasm still tingling through your body, a few whimpers leaving you. Sukuna's thrusts slowed to a halt, his hips stilling as he rode out his high, his grip on you loosening. His cock slipped out of you, the head of it resting against your pussy lips. Your mixed fluids spilled out of you, coating the insides of your thighs, creating a puddle beneath you. Sukuna pressed his forehead against yours, a small smile forming on his lips, his crimson eyes twinkling. He placed a soft kiss to your lips, his nose bumping against yours. "Love ya, mama.." He mumbled, his voice hoarse, his hands caressing your thighs, soothing the sore muscles. "Our baby's gonna be so beautiful.. just like its mother.."

[ruins-posts]

Making You Cry [JJK Men]

Request: How would Gojo, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna react if they make their lover cry? Maybe they say something super mean to them during an argument (you don't have to write what they say, just how they react to seeing her cry because of them)

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna

── Gojo freezes as soon as that tear falls from your eye. God no, what has he done? He shuffles closer to you immediately, hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs wiping the tears that roll down your cheeks.

"sssh, I'm so sorry, baby.." he says softly, brushing strands of your hair away from your face. "Please don't cry."

"Meanie," you sniffle as he hugs you, pulling you to his chest. He kisses the top of your head before letting out a soft chuckle.

"I know, so sorry, sweetheart."

── The last thing Geto wanted was to see you cry. He hated how the tears spilled past your eyes, how the poorly muffled sobs escapes your lips. He hated it with every fibre of his being.

"I..." he's unable to speak, fists clenching in anger. He's angry at himself. He was supposed to make you happy, not upset.

His hands grasp your face, thumbs wiping off your tears.

"S-Suguru..." the pained tone of your voice makes his gut wrench. How could he even do this to you?

"I'm sorry, my love." He pulls you into a gentle embrace, large hand supporting the back of your head as he comforts you. "Don't cry...I'm sorry."

── Had Nanami known his words would've caused you to cry, he would've done everything in his power to refrain himself from saying so. Now you're in pain. And it's because of him. He can't bear it.

"Please don't cry, love," he mumbles, guilt tugging at his heart. He sighs, taking your hands in his. "Please..."

"K-Kento.." he swears your trembling voice breaks his heart into two. He pulls you into a warm embrace, shushing you softly.

"So sorry, darling. I'm so sorry."

── Your crying would not follow and immediate apology from Toji. He's bad at apologising, but the sight of your tears, and the fact that his words were the reason for it, ate him up inside. He sighs, sitting you on his lap, brushing your tears away.

"Look at me, baby."

His expression softens as he sees your puffy eyes, eyes and ears red from crying. How could he possibly live with the fact knowing that he's the reason for it?

"I'm sorry," he grumbles, a hint of guilt evident in his tone. Pulling you closer to his chest, he holds you for a while to help ease you up. He'll never hurt you again.

── You must be an idiot if you believe Sukuna, the king of curses, would ever apologise. Sukuna's pride is much greater than his guilt- that is, if he felt any. He would never say sorry.

However, his apology lies in his actions. That night, he climbs into your bed and shuffles close to you as you sleep, studying your face. Then, he kisses your reddened nose (thanks to all the crying) and pulls you closer to him.

"Brat," he mutters to himself. But he never wants to see his brat cry again.

That's it. That's his apology. If you ever speak of how you ended up in his arms the next morning- he'll kill you.

[thefallofruins]

── “Inconvenience” [Ryomen Sukuna]

Request — I love love love love love your fav concubine/queen stories with sukuna 😍😍😍😍❤️❤️❤️❤️ can I request a story where for the concubine rides sukuna's tummy tongue until he's completely satisfied , like edge play/multiple orgasm or pregnant sex where the queen is really needy and horny for her husband after he has spent so much time outside.

A/N — hi nonnie, tysm for requesting <3 hope you don't mind, but I went with preggo sex cuz I'm not comfy writing fics with his belly mouth involved yet, so I'm really sorry. Hope you enjoy this though.

Warnings — pregnant sex, praise, creampie, nipple play, true form! Sukuna Minors DNI

"S'kuna, missed you so much..." you mumble softly, face buried in his chest. He was met by such an adorable sight the moment he returned— his adorable, pretty lil wifey with a small yet visible baby bump rushing to greet him and capturing him in a hug. He chuckles, patting your head softly.

"That so? just how much did you miss me, my Queen?" he places a finger beneath your chin, gently nudging you to look up at him. One of his other hands are placed on your hip, his thumb tracing your slightly swollen belly.

"Too much, Sukuna..." you reply with a frown. Your hormones were driving you mad. Carrying the child of the king of curses wasn't easy, your needs increased phenomenally. You needed Sukuna more than ever, you needed him to be by your side, saying soft and comforting things to you, reminding you of how good you are, how proud he is of you for carrying his little heir.

He chuckles again, a hand reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Well, I'll have to apologise to my Queen for causing her such inconvenience, no?"

"You better," you pout, tiptoeing in an attempt to get a kiss. He smiles and pulls you close, bending a bit to give you a well-deserved kiss. You whimper softly as he bites your lower lip, his tongue swirling around yours, driving you crazy. You needed him so, so, so bad.

He parts, allowing you your oxygen, a thumb tracing your lower, swollen lips slightly. Goodness, you had gotten so beautiful with his heir growing in you. A hand traces the line of your back, causing shivers to run down your spine, "My beautiful queen..."

A short gasp escapes you as his fingers finds your loosely tied obi— untying it in a single moment. Your kimono loosely falls at your sides, and Sukuna gently places you back on your bed where you lay resting before his return. He presses a few kisses on the soft skin of your neck, relishing your scent— one he had to unwillingly part from for a few days.

"Magnificent..." he mutters, trailing kisses before stopping at the swell of your breasts, which had swollen significantly thanks to the pregnancy. He chuckles darkly, cupping your sore tit with one hand, making you whine softly before his lips latch onto your nipple, sucking deviously on the sore skin.

"N–Ngh...S'kuna..." you let out a soft moan, fingers tugging on his pink hair slightly as you feel the wetness grow between your thighs. You rub your legs together to soothe the growing ache. Sukuna, noticing soon, parts from your nipple with a smile, a string of saliva dissolving as he does.

"Feeling needy, are we?" he speaks, his finger reaching below to trace your dripping folds from over the cloth. "Ah...so needy, my queen." he chuckles, feeling the wetness grow and watching you squirm, eyes pleading him to continue.

"Speak, my Queen..." he smirks, teasing you by torturously tracing his finger up and down, finding your sensitive clit. You're a mess and he hasn't even begun yet.

"S-Sukuna–ah, please!" the plea escapes your lips, "N-Need you," you say in a raspy voice. The hormones had gotten you so needy and sensitive for him. He chuckles, the no-good panties ripped off from you in an instant, revealing your glistening cunt.

"How cute." he smirks, beginning to undress himself, the kimono falling off his body, the silk material falling of his body. You eye your husband with your needy eyes— making quite a cute sight for his. He reveals his cock– veiny, throbbing, pre-cum dripping down from his tip. Such a sight could make you drool on spot...

"Ready, my Queen?" he asks, a smile on his lips as he rubs the tip against your puffy lips. You give him a weak nod, as he prods his cock into your entrance, making you gasp at the sensation of his girth slowly filling up your tight entrance. "S-Sukuna!"

He enters your heat fully, making you feel every inch of him, and added your grown sensitivity from your hormones— every push, every pull, every caress on your skin, it drove you crazy. "O-Oh, Sukuna-Ah!" you moan, wrapping your hands weakly around his neck.

He begins to rock his thick length in and out of your tight cunt, which welcomed it warmly, squeezing around it everytime. He groans, feeling the slick coat his cock, feeling the warmth of your sweet cunt tightening around him, leaning down to kiss you and leave your lips swollen, feeling your round tits bounce up and down with each thrust against his chest.

"Cum for me, my precious..." he grunts, feeling your gummy walls tighten around him a bit more, knowing you're nearing your sweet release. "Mnhh...S'kuna!!" you moan out loudly, a clear liquid gushing over his cock as your walls clamp around him, your head buried in the crook of his neck, making him grin merrily.

A few more thrusts, and he finds himself close to release too, he grunts audibly before emptying his seed into you. A soft whine escapes your lips as you feel the warm sticky liquid fill you up, feeling more sensitive than ever. He pulls out, looking at his cum gush out of your cunt slowly, proud of the mess he created.

His eyes shift back at your tired form, and he leans to press a kiss to your forehead, gently brushing the strands of your hair from my face before he grins at you, "Hope that was enough to make up for the inconvenience caused."

You, through heavy breaths, manage to give him a soft and sweet smile, "Will do..."

He smiles at your response, laying himself beside you, kissing your forehead softly. His fingers gently traces the swell of your belly. "You did well, my love..." he says softly, allowing you to rest as you cuddle up to him.

A hand rests on your head and the other on your belly, he's enthralled by the fact that there's a tiny version of him on the way. And you're the one who's giving him this blessing. His precious queen.

"I'm so proud of you," he mutters softly, kissing the top of your head. That's the last thing you hear before slipping into sleep's sweet embrace.

[satoruluvies]

jjk men when you call them your husband

includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji and sukuna

requested !

wasn't sure if anon wanted an smau or a written one for this so i turned it into a drabble ahahah

gojo: he'd be listening to you yap with an endearing look, half registering what you're saying and mostly just admiring you until that one word would snap him out of his own thoughts. he'd let you continue but then let out a chuckle, not being able to contain himself. when asked why he'd just kiss you on the lips “i can't wait to marry you.”

geto: “how could my husband be prettier than me?” at his geto would just laugh. he would then pull you closer into his arms and utter words of how he finds you the prettiest, most beautiful person to exist. when asked if he isn't flustered at you calling him your husband he'd just shrug “we're basically married already” the slight redness in his cheeks and the tips of his ears with the twitching on the corner of his lips says otherwise about his nonchalant front.

nanami: nanami always knew he would get married to you. but when he heard the word ‘husband’ coming from your lips he still blushes. nanami isn't one to express himself much but he finds himself doing so around you. he'd fix his tie and then mess with his glasses and when inquired about his behaviour he gently caresses your hands, imagining the band of metal to grace your finger that he'd get you soon. “i’m glad we're on the same page about our future”

choso: “husband? are you sure?” you knew what he'd meant by this. he's a half curse and that fact always bothered him but not you. you'd tell him that you didn't care about anything of that sort and he'd cry. choso is a very fragile person and very emotional in contrast to the stoic appearance he has. you adored that part of him so much. “hell we're not even married yet and i’m already crying this much” he'd say between sniffles as you rub his back comfortingly.

toji: you were skeptical about doing this prank on him because he's been married and it was a heavy topic. you did not want to remind him or yourself of it but your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to slip it out anyway. silence followed and your heart sank. you look away and scolded yourself mentally for this. hearing him shift you expected him to walk out but he didn't. he pulls you into an embrace and whispers a bunch of i love yous into your ears. he wasn't a good person particularly but a good husband? he was sure as hell he'd try his hardest for you.

sukuna: “what was that?” you'd hesitate to repeat yourself but his authorative voice would make you do whatever he says. “... my husband” you'd stutter and he'd shake his head. “say that with more pride, i’d like my queen to actually like being my queen”. upon being reminded that this wasn't the heian era anymore he'd speak of the prestige he'd use to have and the privileges that come along with it. you'd be annoyed and tell him to return and fool around with his numerous concubines before storming off. he'd however, would stop you and drag you back “i wasn't done. all that prestige could not compare to a lifetime with you. you'll be my queen, heian era or not.”

it just kept getting longer as it went on lmao

[emmyrosee]

Sometimes, it’s just fun to mess with Sukuna.

He likes to think he’s got you figured out, like how he knows how to navigate each one of your antics like the back of his hand.

But right now, over ice cream, you decide to pull a fast one on him, keep him back on his toes and let him fester in the playfulness that sometimes slips from the relationship.

“Here kuna baby, try this,” you hum, passing him a spoonful of ice cream. He shrugs and leans over, taking the bite and chewing it thoughtfully.

“Pretty good.”

“Right?” You giggle, before wiping your spoon clean. “I didn’t think I’d like the bits of cookie but-“

“What the fuck was that?”

You quirk your brow as his raise in annoyance, looking at you angrily. “What was what, babe?”

“I know you didn’t just wipe your spoon clean,” he snaps. “Be so fucking for real.”

You giggle, “well… yeah… why wouldn’t I? I don’t want to eat your spit.”

“Eat my- WE MAKE OUT?!”

“That’s different,” you scoff. “That’s consensual. This was my spoon.”

His eyes are blown with annoyance as they look around your face for any indication that you’re full of shit and messing with him, but when you give him a simple shrug, he throws his spoon down and immediately grips your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into a messy, noisy kiss, which you squeal into. You taste the rocky road in his lips, and as much as you want to melt into the intense affection, to rile him up more, you bring yours hands to his chest to push him away.

“Kuna!” You gasp against his lips. “What’re you-“

“Look,” he snarls, pulling away angrily. “We’ve been together too long for us to think anything is gross. I refuse to let you think any part of me is gross. Dickhead. I’m perfect.”

“I was kidding!” You laugh, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks. “There’s nothing in the world I find more attractive than you and your spit.”

Now, he lets out a gag and pulls a face at your words, “alright. Moods gone. You ruined it.” He shakes his head from your grip and pouts.

“Babyyyy,” you titter, grabbing and smushing his cheeks together while you nudge his nose. “There’s always a mood with you.”

“Yeah. And you constantly ruin it.”

[angelltheninth]

I don't know if everyone is having baby fever rn, but I do. Could I request a Sukuna with baby fever? Like totally feral Sukuna shooting and shooting and making reader a cum dripping fountain until both of them are rambling incoherently? Is that too specific?? I do have a baby fever lmao

That's what I'm saying! Everyone has baby fever rn.

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, breeding, marathon sex, baby fever, double-dick!Sukuna

A/N: Everyone is in heat lol.

Ryomen Sukuna gets a baby fever even though he never saw himself as father material, while you are absolutely mother material

Ryomen Sukuna gets a baby fever and he wants to have sex every night, no every free moment of the day

Ryomen Sukuna gets a baby fever so he is worse then an animal in heat, his two cocks needing constant attention from his pretty wife

Ryomen Sukuna gets a baby fever and demands to have one of his dicks in your pussy every moment he can so his seed isn't wasted

Ryomen Sukuna gets a baby fever which means you'll be getting very little sleep until the baby is born, he will be around you constantly

Ryomen Sukuna gets a baby fever so he fucks all of his cum into your pussy, the only woman worthy of taking his seed, having his child

Ryomen Sukuna gets a baby fever and is more gentle with you when you become pregnant but still wants sex all the time

Ryomen Sukuna gets a baby fever and keeps touching your pregnant belly with all four hands, saying how he'll get you pregnant again before this pregnancy is over with

[tender-rosiey]

even — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: ohoho? an argument with husband sukuna? i wonder how that will go ;) fluff ending btw so don't worry

your life as the wife of the king of curses is far from the normal married life. your husband is not like most. you knew that. he is different, rougher than your childhood tales of a prince charming.

he is sharper, grumpier, and grouchier. it was all part of the package and you knew all of that.

but, you can’t help but wish for a moment of tenderness between you and him. and while you know that sukuna shows his care differently, you also want to feel the softer side of his affecton.

that’s why when you overheard the maids talking and gossiping about your marriage, your heart was filled with fury, but most importantly sadness.

they talk about how he will eventually get bored and that your fate has been destined since the moment you entered the palace. it also doesn’t help that there are times when sukuna is a tad bit rougher and angrier.

he tends to not take it out on you, but sometimes, you’re there in the wrong time.

such as today.

after a particularly rough day, you slam the door of your chambers behind you. your chest feels tight and the kimono feels far too suffocating to keep on, especially since it reminds you of him. you clumsily take it off and throw it on the bed and get into your silk robe.

you take multiple deep breaths as you settle down on your bed, trying to calm down.

though, the calm is short-lived as your husband bursts through the door, a deep scowl on his face, “what’s up with you?”

he is met with silence which aggravates him more, and he growls, “I am sure what you did isn’t something you do to the king of curses who is also your—“

“what do you think of me?”

and for the first time, in this moment, his eyes meet your own. yours are filled with pain and faux confidence, with a hint of fear. it reminds him all too much of your first meeting, and he doesn’t like it. he thought that your fear of him became a thing of the past. it makes him uneasy.

but sukuna’s perceptiveness is nothing to take lightly because when he concentrates, he notices that the fear isn’t from him but what he will say.

and it snaps him back to reality and the question you ask. but he still doesn’t answer it. instead, he quirks an eyebrow, confused, “huh? what the hell are you talking about?”

you stand up slowly, silk dragged behind you as you walk towards your mirror. you’re playing with your ring quietly before you ask, “what do you think of me?”

“you should know that,” he retorts, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“well, I don’t,” you smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

his feet take him to you, his arms crossed, “do you think I would marry just anyone?”

you seem to have reached your limit as you finally look him in the eyes with anger brimming in your irises. you snarl at the man in front of you, “what if it was a marriage of convenience? what if it was something to shut the world up with? to make me submit?”

he seems taken back, but you give him no chance to reply as you continue, “the maids talk and talk about how you don’t care, and I ignore them I really do!”

anger laces your voice as you roughly push a finger to his chest, “but when you do things like what you did tonight, you make what they say all sound true!”

“you push me away, you pull me back,” your tears start to well up, “all at your own leisure, and I can’t handle that! I want you to care, but with so much happening—I…”

your tears are falling down your face; panic and pain lacing your voice as it gets louder and louder, “I can’t help but think that you don’t truly like me, let alone love me!” you press on, “do you even like me?”

your breaths are ragged and heavy. your eyes are puffy, red, and strained. you slowly sit on the ground and pull your knees closer, sobs escaping your throat. you’re unware of the man who walks towards you then kneels in front of you.

you’re wiping your tears frantically, but they never stop. sukuna frowns.

he then silently takes your hand into his and raises it to his forehead. his eyes are focused on you as he utters the following words, “If I gave you the necks of those who speak nonsense to you,” he raises a brow, “will you be sure then?”

your breath is caught in your throat and you can’t formulate a response. he sounds serious and you know he is. you recall all the times he, without hesitation, killed for you.

but, right now, you truly can’t help but think about how the moon shines behind your husband, contrasting and illuminating his reddish pink hair.

while you’re lost in your own thoughts, sukuna has enough of your silence and bites down on your finger lightly, “so?”

gasping, you pout and snatch your hand back, “hey! what was that for?”

with a roll of his eyes, he pulls you closer by the waist then his hand travels to the back of your head. he rests his forehead on your own before speaking up, voice absolute, “you’re my queen, and I will cut the head of anyone who speaks ill of you.”

“and…” his thumb gently swipes at your tears, “I don't want to see you cry like this,” he grumbles, looking away, “so stop it; it’s annoying.”

a smile creeps up your face and a giggle escapes your lips, “you love me that much?”

he groans before getting up and leaving you on the ground. he goes to rest beside the window and you giddily follow suit. his hand, almost by instinct, pulls you towards his lap. after sitting, you tilt your head to look up at him with a cheeky smirk, “aww, you love me!”

he pushes your face into his chest, muffling your voice. he mutters as he looks out the window, “don’t push it.”

you smile against his skin, because if he thinks that you can’t feel the kiss he placed on the top of your head then he is sorely mistaken.

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[zarameraki]

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.” 

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight-kilo baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded. 

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of reluctance that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit. 

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit. 

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.” 

“Hurry, then.” 

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination. 

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him. 

“Are you close?” you whispered. 

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.” 

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Please.” 

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him. 

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back. 

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again. 

You both snapped in unison. 

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

[xxsabitoxx]

Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 

Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 

[ruins-posts]

"I bet I could defeat you easily..."

Sukuna blinks, almost in surprise, and looks at you like you're the most idiotic thing to exist on the planet.

"Are you saying you would defeat me in battle?" he asks, his lips curving into a small smile. This tiny, adorable, weak little woman challenging him? How cute.

"Yeah, it's gonna be sooo easy." you give him a cheeky grin. He walks over to the edge of the bed, looking at you with a smirk before he speaks, "Care to make that a challenge? I could use a bit of an excuse to fight you. It's been too long since I've had someone to play around with, after all."

You smile, standing up on the bed. "Mhmm, I just have to..." you walk closer, still stood upon the bed where you reach an height equal to him, and wrap your arms around his neck, "Do this..." you press a light kiss to his lips, before pulling away.

"That's my cursed technique!"

A low chuckle escapes his lips, "If that's your cursed technique...then I have no choice but to forfeit. I am completely overpowered. You've won this battle so easily. It's almost embarrassing."

You giggle softly, kissing his cheek. "Does this make me the new king of curses? Bow before me, fools!"

He chuckles again, patting your head. "Now now, brat...don't get ahead of yourself."

[thefallofruins]

𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 [𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚]

Tw: Smut, sukuna is a meanie, possessiveness, unprotected sex, toxicity?, riding, Sukuna is just Sukuna, which means he has a big D

Synopsis: Sukuna calls for another concubine instead of you, causing jealousy to brew in your heart (and it turns him on)

Sukuna loves when you get possessive over him. Everyone knows you’re his sole favourite, that you’re his most favored— the appearance of whom after Sukuna forgot about his entire harem.

“Mmh…” you whimper, struggling to take all of him as you lower yourself down onto his cock. You’re so cute like this, trying to please him with all you have, “S-So big…”

He has a stupid smile plastered on his face, everything about the situation was so amusing to him, your desperation to please him for you feared how he’d replace you after the stunt he pulled today, how adorable you looked trying to fit all of him into your tight little hole.

He was so right in his decision to call another concubine to his chambers today. Not that he required that, but simply to toy with his favourite one. To see your face fall as you— who is obvious to get chosen to attend to him every single night, lost all confidence at the act.

“H-Hate you!” You whine, taking him all in to the base, the way your tight walls clamp so desperately around him making him groan softly. Though your words amused him to no ends, reminding him of why exactly you were his favourite.

“That so?” He chuckles, arms guiding you by your hips as you slowly try to bounce on his cock. He felt so much bigger than when he has you under him, “Doesn’t seem like it….”

You try to begin your movements, as stretched out as you are, you’re still mad at him, something the other concubines can never have the liberty of.

“W-Why did you do that?” You lower yourself on him again, gasping as you notice the visible bulge on your belly as he’s all inside you, “D-Do I not please you a-adequately?”

Your movements are still slow, riding his length slowly as you try to adjust to his size. At the same time, you also want to wipe that stupid grin off his face.

“Hmm…that you do, pet.” He guides you down onto him once more, your slick coating his cock, producing lewd noises as he guides you in your actions, “Look at you now— trying so hard, aren’t you?”

You huff, “And yet you called for her!” you look so hot like this, scolding him while losing your mind on his cock, so adorably flushed with anger but still eager to please your lord.

“I did.” He grins again, slamming you down onto his cock, “She did the job well, I must say.”

Disappointment courses through you, and anger. His actions today had left you shattered, and he is so smug about it!

“Did y-you fuck her?” Your actions grow rapid, bouncing up and down on his cock, controlling the moans and whimpers that threaten to leave your lips.

Sukuna had you exactly where he wanted. Jealous, broken little thing trying his best to please him, but like he’d fuck someone else after having a taste of you. He barely even looked at the overjoyed woman who walked into his chambers, all he thought of was what must’ve been going on in your stupid brain.

“What do you think?” He responds smugly, two sets of his hands reaching below your tits, watching how beautifully they bounce with your movements, “Do you really think I’d have required your presence if she did the job?”

That is a relief, at most. You try your best to speed up things, making him growl softly, “G-Good…” you manage to respond between low and broken moans, leaning down towards his face as you work your magic. “You’re mine.”

The declaration causes him to smile even more, two of his hands resting on your ass, “hmm, is that so?” He chuckles, taking in a sharp breath as you clench around him, “I’m yours?”

He feels so good, so deep inside you that you’re almost dizzy, his tip brushing perfectly against your spot, feeling absolutely stretched— you aren’t sure about what you’re even saying!

“M-Mine…” you moan against his lips as he slams you down onto his cock once again, “P-Please say it…”

You’re so cute when you’re begging, fucked out of your mind. He cannot help but capture your lips with his, tongues brushing against yours in a moment of passion, groaning softly at the sensation of your gummy walls clench around his length.

“S-Shit, woman…” he groans. Every time he fucks you he’s reminded of why exactly his other concubines are so neglected, “You’re like no other…”

Your slick coats his cock, embarrassingly so to produce lewd noises. His words give you the satisfaction you craved, “S-Sukuna–ah..!”

“Nasty girl,” he growls, the grip on your hips strengthening as he’s practically using you like a toy, using his strength to bounce you on his cock. Your face is buried in his neck, he can feel your warm breaths on his skin and hear all the sounds of pleasure you produce as your walls keep tightening around him.

No one, absolutely no one can give him this level of satisfaction that you do.

“Y-You wanted to hear it, huh?” He growls into your ears, pulling your hair as a leverage to reveal your face to him. You are on the verge of tears from how good it all feels, from knowing that know one can please him like you do.

“Listen then,” he senses you’re close, the sounds of squelching filling the room, your tits rubbing against his chest with every movement, “I-I’m all damn yours.”

His words make your pussy throb, capturing you into another kiss, coming closer to finishing.

“H-Hnghh…” you moan out loud, “k-kuna, m’ coming…ngh!”

“Do it then.” He commands, taking great pride as your face contorts in pleasure and with a loud moan of his name, you release all over him, drenching his cock in your juices. A few movements in, he soon follows, filling you so full of his thick cum.

His cock remains inside you as your mixed juices flow down his cock and you look at him with a slight frown, panting slightly, “N-Never do anything like that again.”

He chuckles, patting your head. “Duly noted,” he was definitely still hard from how damn adorable you were being.

“Now get off,” he removes you off him, laying you down next to him. You thought he was done, but were quick to understand that wasn’t the case when he positioned himself on top of you, two of his hands spreading your legs.

“I’m not done yet.”

But could you blame him? You were so hot when possessive.