Sukuna Ryoumen X Reader - Tumblr Posts

READ THIS NOW ITS SO GOOD YALL!!!! @zarameraki is the greatest writer I've seen in a long time

♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 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.

I NEED MORE OF THIS RN PLZZ

Sukuna, the king of curses. Also known as sadist by those who didn't know any better than to shiver and tremble on his presence.

Sukuna, the king of curses. Also known as a filthy masochistic pervert who loves to be hit by his pretty and mean wife. It was a mere accident at first, pulling his hair while he thrusted into your soppping wet cunt.

He let out the prettiest of sighs. If it wasn't for you almost fucked out thoughts, you would've teased him. Which you do, only smirking at him and leaning to kiss him and pulling his hair. Your lips and his clashing against each other with passion and lust that was almost overwhelming.

Pulling on his bottom lip and pulling his hair once again, you could see, admire even, how beautifully he rolled his eyes back. A groan leaving his throat and rolling onto your ears.

But the best part? Oh how his thrusts were sloppy, fucking onto you with enthusiasm and newfound fervor. Cumming almost instantly when you pulled his hair again.

He makes sure to let you know that he enjoys it tho, but he has an issue, he can't cum unless there's some sort of pain: be it on his ego or physically. But his ego wouldn't let his wife torment him and see him in the prettiest and most fucked out state he's ever been.

Might as well just spank him, no?

A/N: I was THIRSTY and couldn't stop thinking about masochistic and sadistic sukuna. Someone chain me to a tree

Behind the scenes

Sukuna x gn reader enemies to lovers

synopsis- your acting teacher decided to make a movie for the end of the school year but needed the two main roles which everyone wanted who wouldn't want to be the main character who got the most screen attention? But after people got rejected left and right it only left you and your biggest competition sukuna

Genre: enemies to lovers/angst to fluff

Status: will post chapters when I have time to

Taglist: open

Welcome to act one

1. Praying for you

2. Stress free party

3. I'll help you practice

4. What are friends for?

5. Not such a good idea

6. I feel betrayed

7. Stop talking about it

8. Traveling

9. Out with friends

10. Home sick

Welcome to act two

11. If only you told me sooner

12. What am I gonna do?

13. What if I don't get the part?

14. Only fans

15. You are disliked

16. Need new friends

17. Acting strange

18. Calling for you

19. Wait he said what?

20. There's no way

Welcome to act three

21. Why are you doing this?

22. Act of kindness

23. I have the drama

24. I can't believe it

25. Don't argue

26. How to say thank you

27. Let's meet up

28. Took me by surprise

29. Jealousy, jealousy

30. Painful goodbye

For you just a little more spoiler I did it bc I was bored 🧍‍♀️

Also "behind the scenes smau" will have couples

fushikugi, yutamaki, ItaZawa (I don't actually ship any of these but I figured I'll do something different)

I NEED PART 2

defiance | king!sukuna x servant!reader

master list

chapter one: did i give you permission?

summary: a psychic told the king that once he meets his soulmate, none of his concubines would have room in his life anymore. he had her banned from the premises for that absurd prediction, he loved his concubines equally. it wasn't until months later when he started believing the old bitch, after one annoying, disobedient servant started working at the shrine. tl;dr: sukuna is constantly fighting the urge to behead his very cute servant

genre: female reader, heian era au but incredibly historically inaccurate, 18+, grumpy x sunshine, fluff, smut, so much crack, angst, mutual pining, might be seen as dubcon but she wants him lol, no he wont have two sets of arms, and no he wont have two dicks, srry srry srry

fic warnings: profanity, explicit smut, ooc, more will be added

word count: 7.8k

extra info: sukuna's a sorcerer in this one, still ooc but not too much, mc's a messy bitch, she pretty much ran away from home for being a hoe. kind of inspired by the apothecary diaries with the whole concubine thing. ANYWAYS, enjoy the read and see you at the end notes!!

“Repeat that for me again,” the king demanded. He was staring daggers at the old woman’s audacity to even say that to him. He was appalled that she even thought that this would be acceptable.

“Of course, my king.” The old lady bowing in front of him said. “I had a vision last night of a woman taking the place of all five of your current concubines. The following vision was of her holding your hand on your deathbed, my grace.” 

The young king’s left eye slightly twitched at the old psychic speaking of seeing his death, along with the fact that she claimed some woman was going to come in to take his freedom away. 

At least that was his take away from her reading, the reading he did not remember asking for.

“And what does this woman look like?” He groaned, wondering why he was even entertaining her delusions. 

“Her appearance wasn’t very clear, my king. I just saw the silhouette of her. In the first vision, she seemed young, around your age.” She responded. 

Sukuna cackled, loudly and arrogantly. Everyone around him tensed up, knowing that was not a good sign. It was never a good sign. The last time he laughed like that, it ended with multiple noblemen being sliced into little micro-pieces. 

They were pretty much dust after the fact. 

He was a cruel man indeed. It never got easier for onlookers to watch either. The only thing they could do was remember the signs and avert their eyes until the inevitable happened. And even then, sometimes he’d snap without one of his subtle warnings. 

He was unpredictable.

“So you speak of a young woman holding me on my deathbed, and you can’t even put a fucking face on her?” He scoffed. “Uraume! Get this old woman out of my face. And never allow her back onto the premises again.” He demanded. 

Everyone in the throne room let out a sigh of relief, they really thought the frail woman would be his next victim. The only reason why he let her go was because she asked him for nothing in return. She just waltzed into his damn shrine, wanting to share her visual hallucinations. He thought being delusional was enough of a punishment. 

—

It’s been a month since you started working at Sukuna’s shrine as one of the many servants. You wouldn’t even consider yourself a servant since you doubt you’d ever be serving the king directly. You were more of a cleaning lady, your given daily tasks were keeping the common areas clean and washing the dirty dishes three times a day. 

But you couldn’t complain. It was either this, or getting stoned to death by your family for getting caught in the bed of an older general. He wasn’t even that old, he was 36. It’s not like you were technically committing adultery either, Toji had multiple wives. One night of fun with him wasn’t going to do any damage. Your family was just mad that you didn’t want to be his fourth one after he brought it up as a solution. 

So, you ran off to the big, bad Sukuna’s shrine. You’ve heard many things– terrible things– about him, but you also heard he takes in workers often… so you took your chances. You’d be less likely to end up dead anyways, at least not within the next couple years. 

Besides, what was your family going to do? Barge into his territory and demand for him to hand you over? Not. At. All. They cherished their lives just as much as you cherished yours, so that was off the table. 

Luckily, you didn’t see the king when you ran into the estate that night. He was probably in bed with one of his companions. You’ve heard rumors about his concubines. They’re some of the rarest women on earth. The most beautiful women, plucked away from the most noble families in exchange for their territory's protection. 

Instead, you were met with his rather young assistant, Uraume. They couldn’t be any older than you, but they were cold. Uraume didn’t even ask any questions aside from what you wanted from Sukuna. After you asked for work and shelter, they quickly shuffled you off to an empty servant’s quarter, handed you a sweet potato for dinner, and then slammed your door shut. 

A different person woke you up the following morning, before the sun even came up. Her name was Mikoto. She was middle aged, you were guessing she was around her 40’s, and a lot warmer than Uraume. From there, she told you what your duties would be, handed you your new uniform which was just a simple off-white yukata, and then shuffled you off to the servant’s bathing room to get ready for the day. 

Sukuna had strict rules for everyone that lived and worked at the shrine. Keep your hair clean and out of your face, no dirt under your fingernails, have good posture, don’t directly look at him, and do not speak to him unless he asks– which was often never. There was more on his list of rules, but apparently those were the ones he mainly paid attention to. 

In the month you’ve worked there, you’ve only caught a glimpse of him a handful of times. 

The first time was when you and a couple of other servants were sweeping the courtyard. He had just come back from what you presumed was a battle, judging by the blood he was covered in.. and tracking some of it through the freshly sweeped areas. 

You were slow to move at first, wondering why everyone frantically got down on their knees and lowered their heads. One of the girls actually liked having your company, and forced you to get down with her before he could notice your lack of manners. 

Once you were down, your eyes were glued to the ground. You held on to your broom tightly as the sound of his footsteps suddenly came to a halt. You felt your heart drop to your stomach, silently praying that he didn’t notice your delayed bow. 

After what felt like forever of just pure silence from him and everyone in his vicinity, the sound of footsteps started again. But this time, the sound increasingly got closer to you until the king's feet were in your view.

You were so fucked.

He shuffled his stance a bit, you could tell he was observing you and you unknowingly held your breath because of it. 

“Is she new?” He asked Uraume. 

“Yes. She started this month.” They answered, as cold and uninterested as ever.

To your surprise and everyone else’s, Sukuna let out a little hum before turning on his heel and making his way back to his chambers. 

He also left a trace of blood in front of you. You couldn’t help but look at it, and followed its trail to the man that left it. 

You only saw a glimpse of it, the fluffy pink hair and his exposed back. He walked in with the top part of his robe hanging off from his waist, showing off his well defined back and the tattoos that covered it. 

He was built like a warrior, and looked younger than you’d expected, even if you didn’t see his face.

— 

The second time you saw Sukuna was near the river behind the shrine. It was early in the morning, the sun was just coming up and filling the skies with orange hues. 

You were watching the sunrise while eating your breakfast, which was the usual sweet potato. It was kind of your comfort food at that point since it was your first meal after escaping your family. It signified freedom in a way, even if you were chained to the shrine for the rest of your life. 

You were sitting at a bench that was next to an old tree that easily covered you. You were so focused on the view and thinking about other things that your mind didn't even register the footsteps that were coming up behind the tree. 

Pink and pure muscle came into view before you could even focus on it. The last person you’d expect to see in the morning was the king, who was in fact shirtless and half asleep as he made his way to the hot springs. 

You figured he was too tired to even notice you, you were sure you blended into the background when it came to him anyways. So you let your eyes linger on him as he walked past you— keeping his eyes forward. 

This was the man everyone feared?

He was young, he couldn’t be that much older than you. And despite his face being covered with tattoos as well, he was beautiful. Perfectly defined nose, piercing eyes, a strong jawline. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, and couldn’t believe he was cruel enough to punish those who’ve had the same problem. 

The world and time itself slowed down during those 4 seconds he walked past you. You put your head down once he finally did, in hopes that if he did suddenly notice your presence, he wouldn’t think that you were disrespecting him. 

The rest of the times you’ve seen were just as random as the others, but those times you were out of his view so that you could actually look at him. 

All of those times he was accompanied by someone else, whether it was walking around with Uraume or speaking to one of his concubines. Other than that, he stayed in his chambers or was out doing whatever he did. 

Which was slaughtering civilians, or at least that’s what you told yourself after the first impression you had of him. Covered in blood and all— which seemed like the norm for him.

—- 

You had finished your duties early for the morning and decided to help a couple of servants with their laundry duties. Their names were Akari and Miya. You’ve grown quite close to them during your time at the shrine. You didn’t think you’d make any friends when you first got there, but soon your interactions with them were filled with laughter. 

You’ve always hated doing laundry, but you didn’t mind helping since you were only folding robes and towels.

Your conversations were mainly just gossip, it was hard not to since life at the shrine was boring in general. Word around there spreads like a wildfire because of it. The last time you hung out with the two, they were itching to tell you all about Lady Yumi.. and her personal itch. 

Apparently the king refused to visit her for a whole month until she got her yeast infection under control, and she threatened to throw herself off of a balcony that was only 8 feet off the ground. You felt bad, but you also thought it was funny with how Miya delivered the news. But overall you felt sorry for the Lady, it’s not like people purposely choose to have yeast infections. Especially not when your sole purpose at the shrine was to fuck the king.

But you digress, it wasn’t your problem. 

The goss today was just as juicy as always. Akari just talked about how a couple of the servants fought each other over who got to serve the king his dinner the other day. And when they fought, they fucking fought. Like scratching, slapping, bared teeth– Uraume had to get in the middle of the two and ended up being the one to serve Sukuna his dinner instead. 

“Why is the fabric moving,” You wearily asked as if the two would know. 

And they didn’t, they looked just as cautious as you did. The three of you stared at the last basket, wondering if it was a ghost or if it was an animal that was making the fabric ruffle on it’s own. You hoped it was the latter, but given the king's violent tendencies, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was the former. 

You slowly got up from your seat and made your way to the piece of cotton in the basket that was still moving and yanked it off to reveal what was underneath. 

Shrieks of horror from the three of you filled the little room as a snake convulsed inside the basket, clearly pissed that its presence was suddenly revealed. 

It didn’t try to attack you— yet. But that wasn’t enough to calm any of you down. Judging by their reactions, they knew nothing of snakes either, which meant none of you knew if the fucking thing was venomous or not.

But did that really matter? No. None of you wanted to get bit in the first place. 

Your fight or flight instincts caught up to you fast, making you lunge forward to grab the snake just below it’s head to keep it from biting you or the girls. 

You quickly ran out of the room and flung the thing off the balcony and into the grassy area, leaving it for the next person to deal with— all while you, Miya and Akari continued to scream. 

That was probably the scariest moment of your life since arriving there. Even after getting the snake out of the laundry room, you were still trembling in fear and recoiling in disgust over how its skin felt on your hands. 

“If you were brave enough to grab it, why didn’t you just kill it?!” Akari was still hysterical as she asked literally the dumbest question ever. 

“Kill it?! With what?!” You spat back, just as hysterical as she was. 

“Okay let’s all just breathe. And just be thankful that the thing is gone.” Miya tried to look at the bright side, even though she was trembling more than you and Akari. 

You finally caught your breath and ended up giggling at Akari’s question as to why you didn’t kill it, making her laugh it off too. 

“How could I possibly kill something that resembles our cute lord and savior Sukuna?” You playfully said to her. 

“Stop it,” Akari clicked her tongue at your comment. She knew all about your little crush on him. It wasn’t new to her, the servants who did have the privilege of looking at him fell in love with him instantly. Even if he did verbally abuse some of them. 

“Get inside and shut the door before that thing gets in again!” Miya cut into the conversation, still shaken up and slightly appalled at how you two were able to change the subject so quickly.

Sukuna stood there in disbelief over the chaotic scene he had witnessed in a place that he thought had order and discipline. 

All he wanted that afternoon was to take a peaceful walk around the halls but that was obviously too much to ask. He saw it all. The screaming, the snake handling, the snake throwing, you insulting him and complimenting him. 

Which is a backhanded compliment in his eyes since the last thing he should be seen as is cute.

He stayed in the hall to see if you’d eventually notice him standing right behind you, but you never did. You were too occupied with your little friends.

He didn’t even know what to think of it, he was confused and appalled at the behavior. He’s always noticed you since the day you almost forgot to bow to him in the courtyard, and has consistently been able to scope you out in the crowd of servants ever since. 

He looked over the balcony to find the snake you and your little friends were deathly afraid of. He considered striking it with a flame, but decided against it because it wasn’t venomous. If anyone did get bit, they’d survive without having to use up extra medicinal resources. 

He obviously wasn’t too worried though, you clearly knew how to handle yourself. 

—-

“Do you even know why I summoned you today?” He scoffed, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his throne.

“I’m assuming it’s because I called you cute,” you nervously squeaked out with your hands and head pressed to the ground. 

You knew exactly why he summoned you, and decided to indirectly call him cute in attempts to lessen the blow. If you were on your way to the guillotine, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to at least try to weasel your way out of it.

“No.” He put his head in his hand and let out a long, rather disappointed sigh. “You compared your king to a fucking snake. I should have your tongue for that.” He reminded you of who he was, and what he was capable of.

“My deepest apologies, your majesty.” You felt like you were about to cry.

“..my king,” he corrected you while gritting his teeth. 

“My deepest apologies, my king.” You said, keeping your head down. 

Sukuna was quiet after that, smirking while looking down at you. His emotions at that moment went back and forth between annoyance and excitement. He almost let the snake incident go, but decided against it because he thought speaking to you would be quite entertaining.

And it was. This was fun. Even his concubine that was with him noticed he was enjoying himself too. If you didn’t have your head down, you would’ve noticed her death glare towards you.

“I will let you go with a warning, but this will be your only one. You may go now— don’t fucking look at me.” He spat out, causing everyone around him to tense up. 

His dismissal took you by surprise, causing you to shoot your head up at him. 

“Sorry master,” You squeaked out as you quickly made your way out of the throne room. Your second mistake at addressing him made his jaw drop. You were gone before he could even correct you again. 

You didn’t even thank him for sparing your life.

He was annoyed, confused, and honestly, a little turned on from the blatant lack of fear you had towards him. No one dared be this casual with him, yet here you were calling him cute for the second time and looking at him like there was something wrong with him for not killing you.

—

Daily life at the shrine was peaceful, unlike the horror stories you’ve heard from different villagers throughout the years. He even spared your life that one time he thought you were talking shit about him. All the servants really spent their time doing was tending to the grounds for Sukuna and whatever visitors he had. 

Your duties have changed since he summoned you, and scolded you. You’ve been tending to the flower garden at the back of the estate for the past two months now, away from most of the workers. You had no complaints, it was beautiful— situated right next to the river and away from all the others. The alone time kind of sucked but being surrounded by beauty brought a certain peace within you. It was the best you’ve felt in a long time even if you did miss your 2 friends. 

Sukuna watched from his balcony as you cut some flowers and put them in the basket. He’s been wanting to approach you for some time now, but doesn’t quite exactly know how. You were a servant, he didn’t really have business with you. But today he had the perfect reason. 

Your hair was down and in your fucking face. He couldn’t let you think you’d be able to get away with that just because you spent your days away from the others, right? That would be against the rules. That would mean he’d be giving you special treatment, something he doesn’t even give his concubines no matter how many times he’s fucked them. 

He put on his robe and giddily made his way down to the garden. He chuckled to himself wondering what would come out of your mouth this time. Would you try to compliment him again in order to avoid consequences? Or would you actually be scared this time now that you two would be alone completely. 

You looked so peaceful as he quietly approached you. You didn’t hear him walk up to you at all. Just as you were about to snip one of the spider lilies, you heard someone whisper ‘what are you doing’ in your ear.

You completely dropped to your knees and let out a blood-curdling scream thinking today was the day you’d finally have an encounter with one of the shrine’s ghosts. The sudden scream even startled him, making him jump back.

“Calm dow– I did not give you permission to. look. at. me.” He scolded. “Get up!”

“I thought you were one of the ghosts!” You threw your head back and whined. Your eyes were squeezed shut, not wanting him to yell at you again for looking at him. “I’m sorry,” You started to sniffle. 

Did he really scare you that bad? And what ghost? He wasn’t even going to entertain that.

“Are you? Stop it– right this instant. Do not start crying,” He groaned as he watched you whimper. 

“Okay,” You faintly said before taking a deep breath, trying to recollect yourself. 

Sukuna watched you, yet again, in disbelief over your lack of manners. 

“Stand up,” He ordered again, his tone less harsh this time. He slightly felt bad for scaring you. “Do you know why I’m here right now?”

“..No.” You admitted. 

“No?” He walked closer to you. “Again, I didn’t give you permission to look at me.” 

“No,” You repeat yourself. 

Sukuna started walking a circle around you, all while taking you in. He’s always enjoyed the sight of you from afar, and it was even better now that he was this close to you. His footsteps came to a complete stop when he got behind and slightly bent down. 

“Describe what you’re wearing right now,” His voice was extra low and raspy, and painfully close to your ear.

“A white yukata and brown sandals,” You answered. 

“And your hair~” He continued, now borderline teasing you. 

“Is down.”

“And in your face,” He finished the sentence. “Now tell me, is that allowed?”

“..No.”

“Are you one of those girls that need to be talked through it?” He whispered.

“Sometimes,” You said, making him snort at your honesty. 

“As much as I like your hair, and enjoy seeing it down, I can’t make an exception for you,” He reminded you before standing straight up again. 

Before you could even respond, you felt his fingers on the sides of your head. You held your breath as he started to gently tuck your hair behind your ears. He didn’t stop there. He then lightly traced the sides of your neck to collect the rest of your hair, and smiled as he watched the goosebumps quickly form on your skin. Your skin was so soft. 

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you,” He said as he realized you were holding your breath. He started to tightly twist your hair, pulled out a clip from out of nowhere, and clipped your hair up and out of your face. 

Once he was done, he told you to get back to work and walked away– leaving you stunned over what just happened. 

—

You didn’t see the king for another week after the strange encounter you had with him. You didn’t dare wear that hairclip he put on you either. It was way too nice to be a regular hair clip, and figured it belonged to one of his concubines.

Even though he didn’t scold or threaten you for having your hair down, you didn’t do it again. You figured there were eyes everywhere around the estate despite being tucked away for the majority of the day. Someone must’ve caught you and told on you. And you didn’t want the king to have to warn you a third time. 

The third time probably wouldn’t even be a warning, he’d most likely get straight to punishing. 

Once you finished making flower arrangements and setting them up in the common areas, you headed back to your room to grab your usual bathing supplies. Tending to the garden wasn’t back breaking work, but working with dirt in the sun left you reasonably dirty. 

Upon entering, you immediately see a basket filled with goods on your bed. It had haircare and body wash— luxurious ones at that. And some nuts and chocolates along with a small bottle of sake. Were you even allowed to drink?

As much as you wanted to feel excited over the gift, you were a little scared. The only one who could afford such things was the king, but you highly doubted it since he decided to have you out in the sun all day as punishment for comparing him to a snake that one time.

Fuck. Did that bastard sell you off for the night and now you had to prepare yourself? That wasn’t part of your list of duties. 

You slammed the door open and ran out to find Uraume. If that was the case, you wanted to be mentally prepared instead of having some man randomly show up to your quarters in the middle of the night.

“Uraume!” You called out, trying to catch your breath. 

“Can I help you, servant?” They calmly responded, yet made sure to emphasize the servant part so you knew your place. 

“There was a basket on my bed, what is it for?” You asked. 

“You, obviously.”

“But why? Is there anything needed of me?” You continued to ask questions, still confused as to why you have it. 

“Not at all. Just consider it a gift. You may also take the day off tomorrow, so enjoy it.” They said in the same monotone voice. 

“W-wait, who is—“ you tried to stop them as they started to walk away.

“No more questions, just accept the gift.” They still kept walking, uninterested in holding a conversation with you any longer than they already had. 

Well, at least you didn’t have to entertain anybody for tonight. And you got to have the day off tomorrow. But what was there even to do? The shrine was kind of boring. And it’s like you couldn’t leave the premises anyways, unless you wanted Sukuna to gut you like a fucking fish for attempting to escape. 

Whatever. You’d figure it out tomorrow. Maybe you’d be allowed to grab a book from the library. 

You finally bathed. The products that were gifted to you smelled amazing, unlike anything you’ve smelled before. It was a mixture of florals like jasmine, with a hint of vanilla. Something a servant should absolutely not be smelling like. But you guessed you could just avoid everyone for the rest of the night and tomorrow, the scent will probably fade by then. 

After you scrubbed all the dirt off you made your way to the hot springs. There was a schedule on who could use it. Sukuna along with higher ranking workers including the concubines were to use it in the morning and afternoon. Meanwhile, servants could use it at night. 

To your luck, it was completely empty tonight. There was a festival coming up, so you figured a most of the servants were preparing for it. You probably would’ve been on duty for it too if you hadn't been moved to the gardens. 

You stripped down and got into the spring. It was hot, but not the uncomfortable kind. Getting in it made you realize just how tense you’ve been since running away from home. You felt all the muscles in your body immediately relax, making you take in a deep breath. You made your way to the other end of the spring, laid your head on the edge of it, and closed your eyes as you let your mind wander off. 

You wondered what your family was up to, even though you really shouldn’t be. You were pretty much dead to them. It hurt to think about, you were extremely close with them before the Toji incident. At the end of the day, you had nobody to blame but yourself. You knew how strict your parents were. Despite being of age, you also knew they still wouldn’t accept you being with a man unless you were actually married. The fact that Toji was already married made the situation even ten times worse. 

You don’t even know how they found out. One day they just caught you sneaking out of his compound in the early morning, and you ran back inside to avoid them from punishing you. You agreed to marrying him at first, but it was only so that they’d calm down enough for you to sneak out. Once you got the chance, you literally ran for the hills– not once looking back as you made your way to the shrine for refuge.

You only had 10 peaceful minutes to yourself before you heard someone submerge themself into the water. Something in your gut told you not to look right away, so you didn’t.

You could immediately tell who it was from the corner of your eye. You kept your lips shut and eyes ahead of you as you rested your arms and head on the edge of spring. 

Even though you couldn’t directly look at him, you saw he was laying back with his arms resting over the same edge as you. He was dangerously close, but ignored your presence as he himself started to relax.

You turned away from him and made your way towards the stone steps to leave. Even though you still didn’t remember all the rules, you were sure staying in the hot spring with him was one of his many no-no’s.

“I didn’t say you could leave.” He said, making you freeze in place. “Get back here– goood. Wow, you actually do know how to follow directions.” His tone was filled with false enthusiasm.

You slowly made your way back to where you were, still averting your eyes from him, and once again leaned over the edge of the hot spring. 

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Did you like the basket?” 

“I did.” You softly answered. “Did you get it because I smelled bad?” You asked. 

“I— what the fuck?— no.” He scoffed at your question, incredibly offended by your sudden laxness. You were as timid as a mouse literally two seconds ago. 

“Just say thank you,” he mumbled out. 

“Thank you,” You said. You swore you heard a part of his neck snap from how fast he turned his head to look at you. 

“-my king,” you corrected yourself, drawing a sudden chuckle out of him. 

“You can look at me, if you’d like.” He quietly said, taking a sip from his cup of sake. 

“Will there be any consequences if I do?” 

“Maybe. But none that would result in death.”  

“How kind of you to spare me,” a smile tugged at your lips as you turned your head to look at him. 

He was beautiful. Even more so up close. You couldn’t tell if his bottom eyes were real. Without even thinking, you slowly raised your hand up to try to poke at it. Before you were able to do that, an extra mouth suddenly formed under it and tried to bite at you, causing you to reel your hand back. Its sudden appearance was terrifying.

Sukuna threw his head back in laughter, you weren’t scared of handling a snake but you were scared of a little extra mouth. 

Well, he could understand why it was a little scary. You probably didn’t even know of his abilities. 

“I don’t remember giving you permission to touch me, let alone try to poke my eyeball.” He tried to scold you, but failed since he couldn’t contain his laughter. The way your whole body recoiled in horror was too good. 

“S-sorry. Is it real?” You asked, slowly scooting back from him. 

“It is,” he said in a velvety tone, scooching towards you. “Aside from you accusing me of thinking that you stink, what else did you think of the basket?” He hummed out. 

You didn’t think you’d ever see this side of him, from the handful of times you’ve seen him and the stories you’ve heard of him, the man was intense. Yet here he was smiling at you and asking you questions. His sudden openness put you on edge, leaving you wondering what it was he wanted from you. 

“I thought it was nice. The products smelled good, and the treats were really tasty.” You paused, wondering if you should keep going. 

But he was clearly listening to you with intent, so you did. “I’ve actually never had chocolate before, I only had a little bit of it so I could have some more tomorrow. And the conditioner smelled so good. It made my hair really soft too.” 

He chuckled at how detailed your responses were, reaching his hand out to touch your hair. You were right, it was soft. But it was also soft the last time he touched your hair too.

Before approaching you, he already had a gut feeling that you were a talker. And his intuition so far has not failed him. But he kind of liked it– the way the words just glided right off your tongue, you were easy to listen to. It was also a change, the only one who openly spoke to him without any underlying fear aside from you was Uraume. Even the concubines feared him, not wanting to lose their place and status.

You were entertaining to be around. No wonder why all the servant girls would flock to you. Which was slightly annoying, since it kept you from doing your duties, it was half the reason why he decided to move you to the gardens. But mainly because he wanted to keep an eye on you.

He also realized this was the longest he’s ever spoken to a servant, and wondered what the fuck he was doing with his life. But yet again, you were both in a hot spring together— naked at that. 

He was clearly past whatever line he’s drawn in the past between himself and peasants. 

He leaned his head back and let out a long sigh, letting the hot water further relax his body and heart that was starting to beat a little too fast for his liking.

He didn’t want to admit it, but you were absolutely the one that old psychic spoke of. You had to be. He hasn’t even been able to fuck any of his concubines without thinking about you since he first laid his eyes on you. 

“I figured you’d like it, after being moved to garden duties.” He responded. 

“So you do think I smell bad.” You gave him a fake pout.

“For fucks sake,” He pinched his browbone. “I don’t think you smell bad,” He retorted.

You snickered at how defensive he was and it annoyed him even more since he didn’t understand what was so funny. You didn’t want to be executed on the spot, so you covered your mouth and looked away in order to contain yourself. 

“May I ask why you moved me to the garden?” You asked after clearing your throat.

“You didn’t seem like a girl who should be locked away indoors. I’m sure you’re enjoying your days frolicking with the butterflies and flowers, isn’t that right sweetheart? I saw you smiling to yourself a couple days ago.”

There he goes again with his sweet tone. He’s a king for fucks sake, one who terrorizes multiple villages and territory’s at that. 

In fact, you used to tell all the children in your village that Sukuna himself would kidnap them and eat them if they stayed outside after the sun went down. 

But your chest fluttered with excitement the more Sukuna spoke to you, he was more charming than Toji. 

Which spoke volumes. Toji didn’t even have to be intimidating to get women. He started off as a beggar and quickly got carried off the streets by an older rich woman, which was the start of his now extremely well off life. 

“I am enjoying the garden.” You said, desperately trying to ignore the fact that he was now sweet talking you. “I thought it was a punishment for talking about you.” 

“No. I would’ve gotten rid of you if it bothered me that much,” He said, a little too calmly and honestly. You could tell he wasn’t kidding either since his sentence wasn’t followed by a smirk. 

“How about I just cut to the chase here. I want you as a concubine.” Your eyes widened at the sudden request— or rather demand.

“What? W-why?” You were taken aback, and started scooting away from him as soon as those words left his lips. 

“Because I like you,” he put his hand on your waist to keep you from creating any more distance between you two. “I’ve been watching you. And I can tell when you try to steal glances at me too. You’ve looked at me way more than you should, especially for someone who’s never been given permission up until tonight.”

He tapped right next to his bottom eye, “That’s what these are for, love. Even when you think I don’t notice, I see just about everything.”

“B-but my king— im not pure,” You shamefully admit. You’ve had multiple secret relationships prior to becoming a servant here. Even you yourself had no problem admitting that it was enough to get stoned.

“Even better. Maybe you could actually please me better than the ones I already have. It gets tiring having to teach women how to fuck.” 

That piece of information did the exact opposite of what you were trying to do. But it also brought you relief that he wouldn’t try to kill you for it, like your family attempted to do.  

“Come on, you’re going to reject your king? You said it yourself, you thought I was cute.” He smirked.

He continued to move closer toward you until he finally had you cornered, towering over you. His presence was a lot, it was overwhelming, and he knew it. He basked in it and the way others would react to him. 

“I don’t know. I’m of lowbirth,” You continued to put yourself down. 

It’s not that you didn’t want him. In fact, you did want him. Who didn’t. It was the fear of what would happen if you were mixed in with his personal life. You didn’t want to end up being hacked into pieces if you said the wrong thing to him.

“I know you’re of low birth,” He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, making you look up at him. 

“How about I persuade you a bit, hmm? Even though I really shouldn’t have to.” His hand moved lower and lower. 

“Normally, I would’ve just made this an order,” he whispered in your ear. “But lucky for you, I’m in the mood to be nice tonight.”

His other hand found its way to the back of your knee and lifted up your leg for his other hand to have better access to you. 

“My king— wait,” You breathed out as his hand kept tracing down your abdomen, holding eye contact with you. 

“I can stop anytime, little miss servant girl. Do you want me to stop?” He asked, stopping his movements. 

You shook your head saying no and looked down at his large hand. Your heart was racing and filled with anticipation. You thought you’d be celibate for the rest of your life since you basically signed it away to be a servant— yet here the king was, asking you to be a part of his little harem.

“Just relax, let me make you feel good.” He softly said, making you nod ‘yes’ and looking at him like a lost puppy.

He slowly slid two fingers into you, letting out a groan of his own. You were so tight, practically clenching around him. It left him wondering how you’d feel wrapped around his cock when he finally had you in his chambers. 

He was slow at first, working you open. His fingers were so thick and long, the stretch almost hurt but it already felt so good. You slightly jolted when he finally curled his fingers in.

“Did I find it?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. He was toying with you and was loving every minute of it.

“Mhm,” You said, trying to quiet yourself as he slowly rubbed at it. It felt so good– too good. As if the atmosphere wasn’t already hot and foggy enough, his actions amplified it as he pumped his long digits in and out of you– focusing on that one spot that instantly made your eyes glaze over.

He chuckled and rested his forehead against yours, taking in the soft sighs and sweet sounds he drew out of you from just from his fingers alone. 

Your body took over your mind and you started rocking your hips on his hand, trying to get some sort of relief on your clit. He knew that too. Instead of circling it with his thumb, he had a better idea. 

You continued to watch his fingers disappear inside of you, and suddenly saw a mouth form on to his palm through the pristine water. Before you got a chance to freak the fuck out, he immediately pressed it against you. 

You quickly looked back up at Sukuna, who was now laughing and lewdly repeating “I knooooow” at your visible shock. 

It was obscene, the way it started lapping at you while he quickened the pace at pumping his fingers in and out of you. The thrusts were shallow so he could focus on your clit but they were deep inside of you— curling his middle and ring fingers, hitting your sweet spot continuously. 

You didn’t even get a chance to think about how morally wrong it was to have something so inhuman lapping and sucking and licking at you. It was doing such a good job at it too. 

Or he? You didn’t know, and you didn’t even care at that point– you could ask later. All you knew was your legs were close to giving out and you were close to giving out. He was pushing you over the edge and you wanted him to keep going.

It was almost embarrassing how good it was making you feel. So good that you didn’t even realize you were holding on to him to keep yourself from slipping.

Sukunas eyes filled with pride as he watched you whine and cry over just his hand alone, in such a short time. You were grabbing on to his arms so tight he felt your nails digging into his skin. 

You thought he was insane and you were an absolute mess. He watched you in amazement as he abused your sweet spots, all while you desperately tried to get ahold of yourself and failed miserably. 

“W-wait, Sukuna, im gonna—“ you cried out. He shushed you and kept going, still pressing his forehead against your as he completely wrecked you.

“Servants aren’t allowed to call me by my name.” He condescendingly spat out. “Unless, this is you agreeing to be my concubine.” 

A sadistic smile was plastered on his face and his pupils were blown the fuck out. This was the Sukuna everyone was afraid of, and he was actually losing his mind watching you fall apart right before his eyes. This was most he’s ever waited to have someone, and he internally thanked all the gods for presenting you to him– even though none of them would ever accept him. But he was sure you would.

“Ok fine— fuck — I’ll be your fucking concubine!” You finally gave in. 

Cursing at the king was punishable by death, but he let it slide.

“Are you gonna cum for your king?” He asked, speeding up the pace with his finger and tongue. 

“Y-yes, holy fuck keep going—please—“ You begged. 

“So shameless,” He chuckled. What a vulgar woman he thought you were.

But it was music to his ears. The begging, the moaning, the crying, the pleasure mixed in with a bit of terror since you had no clue what the extra mouth was. Your breathing got even more erratic and he felt your walls start to clench around his fingers for dear life. He swore you broke some skin too and drew blood from his arms.

But he’d slide that slide too.

“That’s it– just let go for me,” He hummed out. “Just think about me right now, don’t even think about anything else.” He sweetly demanded.

He crashed his lips into yours when you started to cum, soaking in the sweet sounds that were your moans. You were in the spring, but he could just feel how much you came and was starting to regret not laying you down on the ground. He wanted to see it, he wanted to be covered in it. But he’ll see it all next time. 

He let out a pleased hum while kissing you, it went from aggressive to somewhat gentle as you slowly came back to reality. He could feel the tears stream down from your cheeks as he cupped your jaw in his hands. He wiped them away, continuing to kiss you over and over again. 

You were overstimulated and sensitive, and he knew it. Might as well be somewhat sweet to you since he was the reason for it after all. 

“Your new chambers are already set up,” He said. “Uraume will be outside waiting to take you once you get dressed.” 

You nodded okay to him as he gave your forehead one final kiss, and made his way towards the stairs after. 

A wave of guilt started to crash over you, you were slightly sad that he left you all alone with your thoughts after he just completely unraveled you. You were still in a daze over what just happened, and couldn't believe you just did that with him. 

Not only that, what was that mouth thing? It was all too much, in such little time. And now, your life would be changing again since you accepted being his new concubine.

He reappeared again at the beginning of the steps to the hot spring, wearing a fresh robe and holding another robe in his hand. He gestured for you to come up from the water, and you did. He held his hand out for you to hold on to as you got out, and helped you get into the soft, clean robe after. 

He figured you wouldn’t know where they’d be since they weren’t offered to servants, and went back to get you one. Once he took you to Uraume, who was in fact waiting for you outside, he went off to wherever he went off to at night— leaving you alone again.

next part

notes: i know i said that this would be a one-shot, and in one of my asks i said that i would only stick to one-shots and drabbles outside of my other fics, i obviously failed. but whatever! hope some of you enjoyed reading this just as much as i enjoyed writing it (: reblogs are appreciated 😚🫶🏻

taglist is now closed! if you'd like be notified of the next update, please feel free to subscribe to my ao3 that's linked on my navigation page <3

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All rights reserved © 2024 hauntedcrownpost. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

ts ATE

hesitance short fic + side stories | ryomen sukuna x f!reader

summary: sukuna is a gym owner and is very fond of his least productive employee.

this series is a collection of moments the two have shared together during her time working for him. side stories can be read on their own, but I highly suggest reading the fic first first.

tl;dr: sukuna violently pining after his employee. he needs a hug. literally everyone knows he likes her lol

genre: modern au, 18+, established friendship(?), fluff, eventually smut

fic warnings: ooc, profanity

fic:

hesitance 1

hesitance 2

hesitance 3

hesitance 4

hesitance 5

side stories:

past

#1: what are you reading?

#2: under the influence

#3: uncle sukuna

#4: are you crying?

#5: homewrecker

present

(tbd)

extras:

boss!sukuna headcanons

gymowner!sukuna aesthetics

notes: the taglist for this series is open 🫶🏻

i'm also open to suggestions for future side stories. hit the inbox if you have any!

All rights reserved © 2024 hauntedcrownpost. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

Boyfie Sukuna in your bed in the morning

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Lots of fluff. 300 words. Minors don't interact. Divider by @/ioveartfilm

You wake up to the sound of loud purring, and when you turn around, you see your cat cuddling with your boyfriend Sukuna.

Sukuna's lying on his side, shirtless and still asleep. The blanket is pushed down to his hips, revealing his muscular arms and defined abs. And your cat has gotten comfy in those strong tattooed arms and is snuggling happily against Sukuna's naked chest.

You smile and quickly grab your phone from your nightstand to snap a picture. You love seeing Sukuna like this. Those secret moments in your bed where he is all unguarded and soft. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when he begins to stir and slowly opens his eyes, his gaze instantly finding you.

You smile fondly at him and whisper,

"Hey, baby."

Sukuna's voice sounds even lower than usual when he answers you, a bit raspy from sleep. Sexy and cute at the same time.

"Hmm, princess. What are you doing?"

Your smile grows and you snap another picture.

"I need a new lock screen, so smile for the camera, ok baby?"

Sukuna huffs softly, but his catlike eyes are warm when he looks directly into your camera. His large hand carefully cups your cat's small head, scratching behind her ears as her purring grows even louder.

A lazy, sleepy smile spreads over Sukuna's tattooed face, and your heart flutters. He looks so beautiful with that soft, sleepy smile, his beautiful maroon eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep and his pastel pink hair ruffled.

This is a version of Sukuna that only you get to see. The bad boy all soft and cute in your bed. Domesticated, just like the cat purring in his arms.

I NEED HIM! :(( Soft Sukuna in the morning makes me so weak!! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed your morning with Kuna, too ;)

Reblogs and comments would be very sweet 💗

The Gift (Sukuna x Reader)

You were watching TV in the evening when the front door opened and you jumped off the couch; happily running to greet Sukuna. He chuckled when you literally jumped in his arms hugging him, "hey you, how was your day?" He asked followed with a kiss to your temple. "It was good, we have a new assignment though. How was your day? Let me put this away for you." You took his bag and placed it on the table along with his lunchbox.

He rubbed his neck as he sat on the couch, "it was tiring a bit but I can manage oh and there is a new project assigned to our department which means we will get extra holidays after it's done."

You sat beside him with an aw look on your face, "Really? That's great! I'm so excited for you and your team, do your best, okay?" You smiled at him, that loving smile that he loved, "come here let me look at you," he pulled you towards him, "hi?" He whispered and you chuckled.

"Hi handsome," you nuzzled your head in his embrace, "I got you something, its not much but i thought you'll like it," Sukuna moved a bit to grab the bag you placed on the table. You were excited as he pulled out a tiny box and you were literally trying to snatch it from him causing him to laugh and pull the box higher making you pout at him before he handed it to you.

Hurriedly you unwrapped the small box as Sukuna nervously looked at you waiting for your reaction and secretly scared that you'll hate the small present he got you. You gasped when you pulled out a beautiful star shaped hair pin, "YOU GOT ME THIS? FOR ME?"

He rubbed the back of his neck ready to apologise but you took him by shock when you screamed and jumped to hug him and plant kisses all over his face before giddily looked at the pen holding it with both your hands looking at it with heart eyes. "Wahh, it's so pretty," you turned to look at Sukuna, "Thank you Sukuna, it's a lovely present and," you looked at the hair pin, "it's for me."

Sukuna smiled, "you are so welcome sweetie, but I'm sure you've got better presents than this one and I-"

You shook your head looking at him with the same smile that never left your face showing your cute back teeth, "No one ever gave me a present, this is my first!" Sukuna's brows narrowed when he heard that, "Yeah like a hair pin as an present is the first probably," he chuckled to which you did to but shook your head, "nah uh, I mean as a present present, no one ever gave me one, I never reserved any from anyone" you said it with a smile which made Sukuna stop for a while, "...not even on your b-birthdays?"

"Uhm, I think everyone was just busy, so it's okay." The way you said it like it was normal to never get a gift made Sukuna's heart ache, even though he came from a very unlovable family they still would often get him gifts, his frw friends got him gifts and even random people from his work sometimes got him gifts; nowing that no one ever got you a gift not even your family was shocking to him and he remembered how you tend to appreciate the littlest things around you, you chuckled before turning to face him holding the pin to him, "can you pin it in my hair?" He nodded snapping out of his thoughts as he carefully pined it to the side of your hair and picking his phone up to take a picture of you as you held the peace ✌🏼 sign with a smile for the picture.

He kissed the phone, and you chuckled after he showed you the picture he placed the phone down and held your head gently before placing kisses all over your face and pulling you in his arms. A genuine smile never left your face as you wrapped your arms around him eventually falling asleep in his arms, few tears dropped on your cheeks as you slept, Sukuna quickly whipped them away then whipped his eyes holding his tears from falling, "I promise to give you the world." He whispered before kissing the top of your head as you slept.

Could you please do husband sukuna?

rhymes — sukuna x f!reader

a/n: don’t worry I will post my own “GOJO IS BACK” drabble later but let’s have some husband + dad sukuna first

“you.”

“y-yes, my lord?”

“where is y/n?”

“in the m-main bedroom, my lord.”

“hm,” sukuna hums as he walks towards the bedroom. he hears squealing, giggling, and cackling from the inside.

just what the hell is being done in his bedroom?

raising an eyebrow, he kicks the door open to reveal both you and his son jumping on the queen sized bed you both sleep on.

“little bunny foo foo jumping through the forest!” you sing and your son giggles, jumping to your rhythm. you take notice of your husband’s arrival and leap at him, “welcome home!”

he is annoyed, but he catches you with a grunt, nonetheless.

“what’re you doing jumping on the bed I made the servants make especially for us so it suits your peculiar tastes?” he grumbles.

you shrug with a smile, “our dear son wanted some time to unwind and who am I to say no to him?”

“you’re his mother. you should have more resistance to his ‘cuteness’ than this; he will grow up to be a king,” he concludes and your son ignores him, still jumping on the bed.

you giggle, “and that’s why I am the fun parent, my dear husband,” you sigh softly and pull him down to press a kiss on his cheek, “I missed you.”

“do it properly,” he says and pulls you up to him and presses a scandalous kiss on your lips. you smack his shoulder lightly after he lets go and he merely chuckles.

“stop doing that in front of our son!”

sukuna smirks and you simply roll your eyes.

“mommy, look I am flying!”

“yes I know, sweetie; that’s awesome!”

“mommy, look I am a superhero!”

“I know, love; you’re the best superhero,” coo at your son who is still jumping on the bed.

your husband just looks at him and wonders how the hell does he get the energy.

personally, you have no idea, but something tells you it’s the genetics from your dear husband who is also the king of curses.

sukuna huffs and pulls you by the waist to him, “you keep spoiling him, but you neglect me?”

“I spoil you both and you know it.”

“do you now?” he challenges and you look at him blankly.

“sukuna, i need to go to work,” you mumble.

“no.”

“no?”

he pulls you closer and nods, “you will stay here til I have had enough of you.”

“BUT YOU NEVER HAVE ENOUGH AND I CAN’T STAY CUDDLING WITH YOU! WHAT ABOUT MY JOB?!”

“you’re married to the king of curses; that’s the last thing you should be worried about,” he deadpans.

“that has nothing to do with spoiling me; you’re just weak-willed,” he grins and you think that, maybe, kicking him in the nuts won’t be so bad.

your son can live without sibling; it will be okay.

you quip, “then how about the time I got you breakfast in bed?”

“the chef was the one cooked it; you only delivered it to my room.”

“why don’t you believe that I cooked it?”

“cause your cooking is awful; it’s probably the only thing close to a poison that could actually kill me.”

you and your son gasp, but your son is the one to retort to his father, “mommy cooked it all by herself! you ungrateful old man!”

you’re about to scold your son to not insult his father but to your surprise, your husband is one step ahead of you.

however, you would’ve preferred if he didn’t even act cause the moron pushed your son off the bed.

your son screams before falling off and hitting the ground in a way that was far from harmless. slowly, his cries grow and he starts wailing and sobbing.

sukuna smirks, “no more monkeys jumping on the bed.”

“SUKUNA! HE IS CRYING!”

“he is my son; he can handle it.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will rat you out to gojo

@kakushino

PREY┊RYOMEN SUKUNA

tags. (18+). read part one here (optional), fem reader (she/her), mutual pinning, childhood friends to lovers, modern au, primal play, marking (biting), unprotected sex, he cums inside, breeding kink, lowkey exhibitionism, praising, pet names (bunny, puppy, sweet girl, good girl), spit as lubricant, clit slapping, aftercare. — wc: 2.8K

In the darkness of the forest any sound in the distance is heard as Sukuna. Your mind plays tricks on you and turns the sound of your breathing into footsteps and the distant bustle of people into voices. 

Out of the corner of your eye you think you see a shadow moving around. Without leaving your hiding place you cling to the trunk of the gigantic tree and peek around the sides to check that no one is really there. 

You swallow saliva to eliminate the dryness that fear has caused but you find your mouth dry and your throat uncomfortably tight and, when you pay attention to your back, you realize that the world is silent for a brief moment to allow you to hear a branch breaking under the weight of a predator. 

Sukuna is nearby, he was running or walking behind you and was going to catch you if it weren't for the dry leaves that give him away. You flee from your hiding place like a slippery rabbit, being careless in your steps and alerting your pursuer to where you are headed, you run in a straight line, hitting branches and small bushes that cross your path. You no longer cared about being discreet, he is close and you need to put distance between you as fast as you can. 

As you move deeper into the large trees their canopies cover the sky more and more. You realize you are so far away from the city that you barely hear the festival which makes you feel uneasy and fearful.

You could give up and let him win, yet there is an insistence inside you that pinches you to keep running regardless of the discomfort of your non-running shoes.

"Do you want to keep running, little bunny?" you suddenly hear from behind a tree, you look in all directions in the gloom and your eyesight tires as you try to search for a body in the dim presence of light. 

Sukuna could be anywhere. 

"I can smell you, you know?" his deep voice is an echo in the abyss of darkness. So you cling to the tree, your nails digging into the wood trying to hold on to something tangible to help you stay in the present, to pay attention to your senses and focus. Though you didn't understand what he meant by what he had said. "I can smell you..." he repeats, closer this time and it's as if you feel his presence above you like a suffocating thick aura, you're frozen in that moment. "Your fear, your excitement. I'm going to find you and it's okay, you can admit you want me to catch you, I know you're anxious to know what will happen when I do..."

It was only a matter of time before he caught up with you, you knew it, you hear his voice closer and closer so your survival instincts lead you to the last logical reason for that moment: you have to climb the tree. 

"Why don't you be a good girl and come out? You're making it so easy for me."

You hear his words before you can feel him, blowing hot air on the back of your neck as his claws drag you away from the tree pulling at your waist. You scream trying to struggle against him but any tantrum you can muster becomes insignificant in his presence, his stronger arms cover yours and your kicking feet are suspended in the air and in one sudden movement you both fall to the ground.

Your body kisses the earth with little delicacy in a rumble, you don't feel the sting of the stones from the amount of adrenaline coursing through your blood as Sukuna continues to sink his weight on you. There are branches and leaves in your hair and caught in your clothes (now dirty with mud), after a while of struggling in vain you convince yourself that he really has you. Just like when you were children, just like when you struggled until you had no strength and Sukuna only teased you... he re-enacts the scene. 

Your hands are trapped painfully on your lower back as he pulls his body closer to you, his face lowered to your neck, his voice hoarse and broken from the chase mixed with adrenaline. 

"Gotcha," he teases. 

You swallow your pride and drop your face to the ground to rest, your cheek sinking thanks to the tiny stones and at the same time you are grateful for the coolness they bring which manages to soothe your burning a little. 

"What do you want?" You were referring to his prize. 

Sukuna's throat makes a sound you can only categorize as a growl. He almost sounds like an animal, while you close your eyes and enjoy the sting of his grip on your wrists. 

Sukuna struggles to be sincere or hold back, alternately squeezing and releasing your hands to release pressure, he swallows before responding. 

"I want to mark you. That's my prize." 

"Mark me?" You repeat the words, confused. Choosing to ignore what his words really denote. 

You are aware that this is not what you would do with any of your friends. By this point you would have stood up, you would have shaken the leaves out of your pants and laughed at the scream you gave when he caught you however this was not what you wanted, you needed to know what his limit was, what yours was. 

"I want to bite you. Mark my teeth into your skin, I want people to ask you about it and tell them what a sore loser you are." 

Sukuna snorts hotly at your neck, a puff of air exhaling self-control (which hangs by a thread). You force yourself not to thrust your hips into him and instead you give him your throat like the good loser you are. You tilt your neck sideways, showing him the soft skin to mark. 

"Tell me if I'm being too rough," Sukuna manages to mumble, before closing his eyes and sinking his teeth into the area in the middle of your shoulder and neck without wasting any time. 

You groan involuntarily at the sensation, he pushes his hips hard against you dragging your body a little under his weight. It's the first time you realize he is enjoying this as much as you are. 

It's at that point you wish you had your hands free to pull on his pink strands and push him into you.

"Harder," you ask as you realize he wasn't biting you, his mouth was hovering above your skin, showing you only the feel of his teeth. 

You swear you can hear him curse with the next growl that vibrates his vocal cords and without wasting any time he digs his teeth into you until it hurts, you gasp, being absolutely certain that it would leave a mark that would remain on your skin for about two, three more days. 

The area that has been bitten burns, you feel it throbbing under the tender kisses he gives your injured skin and it is as if he is trying to make it feel better. 

Your pants become uncomfortable, as does the posture of your hands which begin to feel ants scurrying around them and uncomfortable as your sticky panties sink annoyingly into your slit with every involuntary movement of your thighs or hips. 

His lips are soft with each new kiss, carrying butterflies in your stomach and a little lower each time you feel the piercing in his lip tingle on your skin. Sukuna occasionally uses his tongue in swirls until the burning sensation is less intense than the flares that seem to burn your skin. 

Sukuna pushes against you again, his erection restrained against the tight jeans feels annoying. I'd like to rip them into a thousand pieces, I'd like to rip your shirt into a thousand pieces, is all he thinks about— marking your collarbones and following the stroke across your breasts and tender nipples. 

Your bodies begin to rock against each other, at first it could be interpreted as him fixing the grip of your wrists on your back but soon the friction doesn't feel so innocent. Sukuna is increasingly rubbing harder and harder, a little more needy while you on the other hand find yourself playing along by raising your hips in search of feeling something more.

However the pleasure is static, Sukuna realizes this will go nowhere when his cock starts to ache and frustration makes him moan. 

"I need to take you," Sukuna speaks, finally breaking the silence. 

"Do it." You reply almost immediately in a raspy voice, choking on another inhale. 

He seems to regain that confident, assured personality you seemed to have forgotten, very caught up in the moment. Sukuna chuckles. 

"Here? In the forest? Are you sure?" 

No, you weren't. You were in the middle of nowhere, darkness surrounding you from every corner not knowing who might be lurking from afar but if he didn't touch you you were sure you were going to explode and his heat, the hardness of his body pressing against yours, his defined abdomen sweaty, sticking to your back and the hardness of his cock in your ass were all that mattered now. 

"Yes," you say dryly, catching a moan between your teeth and lower lip.

"Ask me." 

"Take me. Fuck me, I— I couldn't be more sure." 

Sukuna doesn't make you beg anymore. He just needed to hear you be sure you wanted this as much as he did. 

Then he lets go of your hands finally which take a moment to realize they are free and that there is blood running in them again to bring them to each side of your trembling body. His languid fingers are on the button of your pants pulling it halfway down along with your panties and almost immediately you feel his fingers plunge into the wetness of your pussy. 

You both moan in unison. Three of his fingers explore the expanse of your folds up and down as you raise your hips to give him more access to your core and your face gets a little more lost inside the stones that now feel almost non-existent, any pain is overtaken by pleasure. 

His rough fingers stumble over your clit and play with it for a while, back and forth and up and down with a flat hand until your arousal spills down your thighs and makes a mess that manages to be heard like a wet echo in the abyss of silence. 

"Can you hear that?" Sukuna asks lewdly, more to himself really. With his free hand he spreads your ass cheek apart to get a better view of the poor sight the moon was giving him of your pussy. "Hm?" He again insists and not content with the amount of lubrication naturally produced by your body, he spits directly into your pussy taking you by surprise. "I'm going to put them inside..." he warns you, almost without giving you time to process his words, two fingers find themselves forcing their way inside you, scissoring inside your tight hole until you feel it relax enough to take a third. "Fuck. You're so tight."

You wanted to reproach him that it was because his fingers were too thick and maybe it was because he was fucking you with three of them but the words were cut into little pieces as you felt your orgasm hit you without warning. 

Your body jerks under his expert touch as his fingers continue to massage you through the waves of pleasure and his free hand pampers your back up and down. 

You moan as you feel his fingers leave you, your painfully empty and sensitive pussy waits patiently as Sukuna undoes his belt and jeans down to his thighs. You hear him unzip and fix his posture behind your back. You were ready, waiting with your heart beating fast for him when he takes your hand and pulls it behind you in his direction, you stutter his name. 

"Put it in." Sukuna commands. You say his name again, each syllable melting in your parched throat. Each time you call his name it seems as if a stream of pleasure hits your clit. Your fingers curl around the shaft and immediately you feel it throbbing. At that moment you hate being in the dark because you want to see him, to see his expression, to see his cock slowly slide into you and stretch you. "Put my cock in, sweet girl. There you go," he praises you sweetly, a contrast to the person he was a couple of minutes ago.

The fat head stretches your hole tentatively as Sukuna spits a second time. With another thrust from you and with the help of your hips moving back he slides easily and slowly into you, allowing you to appreciate every inch until Sukuna bottoms out and you let him go to fix your posture on the bed of rocks and leave him while he begins to pound you. 

His hips are heavy every time he thrusts inside you, pounding your ass intensely as his fingers aimlessly snake up your thighs until he reaches your plump and sensitive clit, Sukuna nips it between his knuckles then slaps it a couple of times laughing when he hears you moan and finally stimulating it in circles. 

Sukuna crawls along the length of your back to press his body to yours, his mouth is on top of his bite where he leaves a kiss before murmuring in your ear, "Can I cum inside?" your body responds physically, your swollen nipples inside your t-shirt ache, your pussy squeezes around his heavy dick. "Are you going to let me mark this pussy too? As part of my prize, hm?" You stammer an intelligible reply to what he grumpily responds by patting your tender clit to get your attention. "Focus. You want my cum in your pussy? You want me to breed you? But you have to be a good girl and take every last drop... It's a yes or no question, puppy. Use your words." 

"Yes, please! Yes." 

How could you tell him that was all you could think about? That it was all you could think about since you realized you were in love with him? Even though you didn't have to say it now, Sukuna knew. So your few words were enough to make him understand that you needed this as much as he did. So within a few more thrusts you feel him jerking inside you, choking his grunts into your neck as he massages your clit helping you climax soon after. 

Breathless and gasping for air, his cum sliding out of you, he lets himself fall beside you though he regrets it when the stones hurt his back and he whimpers, you laugh and he helps you closer to him, squeezing you to his body as if he never wants to let go. 

As you breathe in silence his heart stops being a violent drum to return to a quiet melody, similar to yours which unlike him is still somewhat unrestrained thanks to his gentle touch on your forearm and back and sudden kisses on your hairline that carry tickles all over your back. 

With the sky above your heads showing you a million stars that look like polka dots, with the cool breeze biting your skin, making you shiver every now and then against his body— your eyelids start to give way from his constant pampering. 

"I like you," Sukuna admits, interrupting the silence, his confession laden with raw sincerity, and though his words come with his trademark calmness and assurance, his heartbeat says something different. "This... it wasn't just about fucking you," he adds. 

"I like you too. I thought it was obvious," you confess a little sheepishly. Ironic, after the events that recently transpired. Although it was always harder to bare your soul than to bare your body. 

"I mean, it was but I was also afraid I was imagining things," with a low chuckle, sukuna pulls you closer to his body. 

You lean in to look at him, for a moment he purposely ignores you until he decides to return your gaze and silently cup your cheeks. His fingers push your skin until your lips stand out in an exaggerated pout and he moves in to leave a quick kiss which you catch and deepen, tasting his lips for the first time, melting at the sensations of having him suck and bite your bottom lip. 

"Do you want to go back to the festival?" Sukuna asks, in a somewhat sleepy voice. 

"Let's go back to my place."

MORE HUSBAND!SUKUNA PLSSSS (not forcing TvT) (not modern-)

tough love — ryomen sukuna x gn!reader

a/n: okay but like imagine living in a palace with this guy

your husband is sweet, but not in the traditional sense.

when you think of sweet, you think of nights spent with hushed whispers and mutual giggles, you think of flowers at your doorstep every single day.

you don’t think of a 7 foot something man, with the biggest scowl on his face, staring at you in the early morning and scaring the heebie-jeebies out of you.

but he is still sweet.

despite the blood staining his hands and his manic grin doing such acts, the same hands have the ability to hold you as gently as one would stroke a flower’s petal.

they’re able to cradle you and carry you to bed and tuck you in. sure, there is no goodnight kiss, but that’s because he doesn’t leave. when you rest, your husband stays awake on the look to make sure that no harm comes to you.

he is rough with what he does. still, you feel happiness about to overflow when, for example, he gets you jewelry he believes would suit you.

add to that, the fact that he personally puts them on you. you remember that one time he got back from his endeavor—terrorizing yet another village—and he greeted you with a box painted with gold and wrapped in velvet.

you took the box from his hands and opened. it revealed a very exquisite anklet with jewels of your favorite color. they are organized in a matter that you distinctly remember telling your husband about and how pretty that is to you.

you looked up to him giddily, “so you do pay attention!”

he takes the anklet from the box, grumbling, “shut up,” and despite his harsh tone and words, he kneels and puts the anklet on you. it’s a bit hard, considering his big hands and long nails, but he manages. he pulls back with a smirk, and you examine the anklet on your leg.

“I like it.”

“of course, you do; I chose it.”

he is an ass, but that same guy takes care of you when you’re sick—somehow. when news had spread that you’ve fallen ill, you expected that your husband would simply send the maids to your aid and the doctors to ensure your rapid and swift recovery.

instead, what you saw was the figure of your—scary—husband stood at your door. you peek from under the covers, a cough escaping your lips, “how can I help you, husband?”

he frowns down at you, “you look like shit.”

you start laughing, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit—his frown deepens—, “well—obviously! I am sick,” you try to get a look of what’s behind him, “where are the maids and doctors?”

he sits on the bed, right by your side, and rests a hand on your forehead, “I am not letting their filthy hands touch you,” a sigh threatens to escape him, when he feels your temperature, “you’re foolish.”

you huff, “I can’t control how sick I get, you know!”

“well, you could’ve avoided this, if you had listened to me when I told you not to play in the rain.”

the memory brings a dopey smile to your face.

the rain was falling freely but gently. the wind was blowing just right. and your husband was watching you, under the door frames so he doesn’t get wet. he called for you, of course, but you’re a free spirit and wanted to enjoy the outdoors a bit more.

you’re never confided in the walls of the palace, but it’s nice to feel like a rebel every once in a while even if it ends up with you being sick in bed.

he sees the little kick of your feet, “but, it was fun, right? I even managed to get you to stand in the rain with me!”

yes, he did, in the end and after much whining, go in the rain with you. he was simply standing there, but it’s the thought that counts, right? and because he is the king of curses, he didn’t get sick, but he did get stuck taking care of you.

it’s a win in his book—even if he hates seeing you all frail like that—but he would never tell you that.

he shoves a cup of water to your lips, and grumbles, “shut up and drink.”

your goes up to hold the cup, but his glare makes you slowly lower them back down. you get the memo that he wants to take care of you, to the fullest. he slowly helps you drink all of the water.

so you relax the entire night, letting him nurse you back to health. he is a bit clumsy throughout it, and you understand it’s because he never truly cared for someone before nor did someone care for him in a way so tender and gentle.

you think it’s cute: his determination mixed with a hint of roughness and cluelessness.

you want to giggle and chuckle at some of the things he does like how he was confused about which medicine you were supposed to take and at what hour.

or like how—despite his enormous strength—he was unable to take the cover of the bottle of herbs off, but you’re sure he would either glare at you or leave you to suffer alone for an hour.

so yeah, he stays with you the entire time you’re sick, night and day, never leaving your chambers. even when he needed something like medicine or a wet cloth, he would send the maids.

he stays by your side till you’re back to your feet with a smile on your face.

and when you’re dinning on the very long and gigantic table, you look intently at your husband’s face. he reminds you of something with his permanent scowl and grumpily attitude.

he notices your gaze and groans, “what is it now?”

you gasp as you finally come to the long awaited realization.

a tiger.

your husband is a tiger, one hell of a grumpy tiger.

“your face looks stupider than usual; what’s up with you now?”

an asshole tiger.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

𝝑𝝔 an: ALRIGHT GUYS finally something angsty and involving an argument or smth vaguely saying that ahem ANYWAYS!! suku here is a bit of an ass but he will redeem himself guys dont worry. i love you all!! to the new readers — read more here!!

“can you piss off already?”

“i’m not in the mood, go fucking yap to someone else.”

“we wouldn’t be doing this shit if you just stopped being so fucking clingy!”

the hurt flashing in your big eyes tells him that he shut his mouth a little bit later than he initially should have.

sukuna sighs when you run out of the room, unable to hold in your sobs like you usually would, and sits down on the couch of your living room. to be honest, he doesn’t even know what came over him at this moment. or for the last half an hour he’s been pouring all of his anger at you.

recalling the previous week is not the most pleasant thing, but that’s all he can do right now to cool down. there is nothing to reminisce about; it’s been a very frustrating week, where jin was a lot busier than usual, their old man needed more care, the worry for yuuji being left alone ate both of them from inside and out, work has become more annoying than fulfilling, and all sukuna wanted to do was to be left alone, which is why coming over to your place was a mistake.

not because of you, but him. he could’ve texted you that he is tired and is going home instead, yet somehow his mind was stuck on seeing you tonight and his muscle memory led him to the familiar warmth of the street you lived on. it didn’t comfort him, like usually.

sukuna never thought he could scream at you like he did. you probably never thought either; the genuine fright and terror on your face told him a million of things, a million stop signs, yet he only continued going off on you.

you just expressed to him how you wanted to spend a little more time with him, how you wanted to help him decompress and relax, how much you cared about him — you didn’t deserve his ugly yelling and his angry attitude.

oh man, he fucked up.

he rubs his face roughly, barely able to stop himself from tearing his skin off, and stands up from his spot. for a minute, he contemplates whether he should even try to fix anything tonight — if you would even want that.

sukuna presses his ear against your door, hand tugging down the handle simultaneously, but to no avail. as disappointment washes over him, he realises that you’ve locked the door. is it a sign that he should just go home? probably.

he can’t do that though.

he knocks, loud enough for you to at least notice, “baby? can you let me in?”

sukuna doesn’t know that on the other side of the door, you barely stop yourself from jumping off the bed to open the door for him. your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you press your back into the headboard, clutching the blanket tighter as you gnaw on your bottom lip, stifling down your sobs.

you want to let him in so badly despite how much he hurt you.

it’s something you can’t control, something that has you curling into yourself, as far as you can so you can ignore the twitching in your limbs and keep yourself away from him. you only wanted to help and seeing his anger being directed at you made you further confused about what you did wrong.

subconsciously, you know that it’s not about you. but you still can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe… maybe sukuna needs a girlfriend who is less overbearing than you. someone who understands him better, understands when they need to back off and let him be, and not try to fix everything with their love. maybe.

you bury your face in your pillow, effectively muffling down your cries while sukuna continues to knock on your door from time to time.

he guesses that you fell asleep so he stops knocking as he sits down on the floor with a small groan. the couch looks a lot more inviting than the hard floor, however sukuna can’t bring himself to be too far from you so he finds that it’s okay, he’ll wait for you.

he doesn’t even know when he falls asleep; realising that he was, in fact, sleeping when the door behind him suddenly opened and he is fully sprawled over the floor. “fucking hell—“ he curses under his breath, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his face before he glances up, meeting your nervous gaze. with the pain in his whole body forgotten, sukuna stands up abruptly, his face softening when he notices how you step away from him.

“sukuna? were you… sleeping on the floor?” you ask, your voice sounding a little hoarse as you look up at him unsurely.

he swallows, face scrunching up at the dryness in his mouth, and steps closer to you, closing the door behind himself.

“can we talk, baby?”

you look down and nod solemnly, walking back to your bed while he follows you like a lost puppy. sukuna’s fingers twitch with desire to touch you, any part of you. you crawl away from him though, backing yourself into the corner. covering, protecting yourself from him.

“i— uh, i didn’t mean all of that, y’know that, right?”

you stay silent, small fingers curling around the edges of your blanket.

“tell me you know it, baby, please—”

your voice comes out unsteady when you finally speak up, abused bottom lip trembling as you sniffle, “i don’t think i do, ‘kuna~”

sukuna reaches his hand out, tentative fingers creeping closer to you in an attempt to observe your reactions. your eyes follow his movements and you stare at his hand for a little while before your features fade into something too pitiful for him to grasp. as soon as he calls you by your name you start sobbing violently.

all of the hesitation leaves his mind as he immediately pulls you into himself and positions you between his spread out legs, arms wrapping around your body and tucking your head into his neck. it’s the worst feeling in the world because he is the reason why your fragile soul is rattling in hurt and agony. god, he wants to fucking punch himself in the face repeatedly, and even then it wouldn’t be enough for him to feel like he’s apologetic enough.

sukuna brushes your hair away from your face, hand sliding down to caress the side of it, but his movements still as soon as he hears your small voice,

“you didn’t have to be s-so mean about it.” you gaze up at him with eyes full of tears, “i could’ve taken your anger, but not… n-not that.”

placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, sukuna goes back to look you in the eyes, making sure his sincerity is apparent.

“‘m so sorry, baby, i don’t fucking deserve you.”

you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle down another round of sobs and hide your face from him once again, arms circling around his neck.

you don’t give him a clear answer. sukuna is ready to wait for however long it takes.

kinktober masterlist - mika

author's note! - Hello everyone! Thanks for checking out my Kinktober posts for this year. I haven't posted for kinktober in a minute so I'm trying to ease myself back into it. Please feel free to make requests and I'll get to them after I'm done with these! Collabing with @dulzuraaii for the design of the fics! Thanks for you help and support!

content warnings - Only male x female pairings. Most are recommended that 18+ to read.

WEEK 1

༊*·˚ oct. 1st - dacryphilia w/ tsukki, mikey, sukuna

༊*·˚ oct. 3rd - power play w/ gojo, wakasa, sae

༊*·˚ oct. 5th - virginity loss w/ isagi, kuroo, nanami

WEEK 2

༊*·˚ oct. 7th - somnophilia w/ geto, rindou, bachira

༊*·˚ oct. 9th - thigh riding w/ toji, oliver, iwaizumi

༊*·˚ oct. 11th - praise w/ wakasa, atsumu, sukuna

WEEK 3

༊*·˚ oct. 13th - edging w/ ran, nagi, suna

༊*·˚ oct. 15th - orgasm control w/ sanzu, sae, atsumu

༊*·˚ oct. 17th - oral w/ gojo, mikey, nagi

༊*·˚ oct. 19th - ddlg w/ ran, tsukki, wakasa

WEEK 4

༊*·˚ oct. 21st - public sex w/ toji, rindou, bachira

༊*·˚ oct. 23rd - aphrodisiac w/ geto, nagi, suna

༊*·˚ oct. 25th - age gap w/ ran, kuroo, nanami

WEEK 5

༊*·˚ oct. 27th - cockwarming w/ kuroo, isagi, mikey

༊*·˚ oct. 29th - favorite positions w/ all characters

༊*·˚ oct. 31st - nagi special!

The Roommate Agreement //

Pairing. Sukuna x Fem!Reader, Gojo x Fem!Reader

Summary. It was stupid of you to leave the task of finding a new roommate in the hands of your best friend, Gojo.

Rating. Explicit/ NSFW

WC. 2.8k+

CW/ TW. Voyeurism, Fingering, Praising (Female Receiving), Masturbation, Alternate Universe, kind of FWB with Gojo, Reader is kind of shy

AN. Hi! This is a repost because my old account was accidentally deleted [silently crying inside]. Anyway, all likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated, thank you!

M. List | Taglist | Part 1 | Part 2

When you told your long-time friend, Gojo, that you needed a roommate, you weren’t exactly sure what to expect—it was Gojo, after all. And it wasn’t like there was any room for you to be picky about it. With your now ex-boyfriend leaving the rent of your expensive apartment onto you, you were confident that your friend would come through.

“Are you sure that you’d be okay with anyone?” Gojo had asked, white brows raised.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, waving him off. “Toru, I really need someone by the end of the week. Can you do that, please?”

The big smile that spread across his face should have made you wary. “I know just the guy!”

You only hoped that whoever he managed to find didn’t turn out to be some weirdo because Gojo seemed to attract a lot of those.

Still, you left the rest in his hands—though, probably not your best idea. That same shimmer of doubt swirled in your gut the following day when you answered the front door.

At first, you were taken back by the sheer bulk of the man in front of you because he was definitely not what you were expecting. From the tattoos littering his arms and face, to the gages in his ears, only one question swirled around in your head:

How did Toru even know this guy?

And the longer you stood there staring at him, you decided that, no, the spiky pink hair did not make him look any less menacing.

“Sukuna,” he said before you could even introduce yourself.

Amber eyes looked you up and down, his gaze locking on the red thigh highs you didn’t have time to change out of after work. You watched as a smirk pulled at his lips when his eyes returned back to yours, and the thought of him turning out to be a weirdo slowly began to cement itself.

Yet, a tiny voice in the back of your head couldn’t deny how attractive he was.

“Uh, I’m—” you started, but Sukuna cut you off.

“You know what, I’m going to call you Red. How does that sound?”

“Well, I—no—” you babbled, a bit flustered.

He smiled, completely ignoring your protests. “Good. I’m glad we both agree. You know, Red, it’s rude not to invite your guests inside?”

Growing more flustered by him calling out your lack of hospitality, you opened your door further and let him into your apartment. By the end of your meeting, you didn’t even know what he did for a living (not that you told him what you did either), just that he could pay his share of the rent. And a few flustering comments later was all you needed to accept his offer.

Thankfully, you were at least smart enough to set some rules in place:

Clean up after yourself

Buy your own groceries

No parties

No sleeping together

Do not walk around naked

ABSOLUTELY, DO NOT go into Red’s my room

They were simple rules, you thought, and the list wasn’t particularly long or hard to remember. Yet… Sukuna found a loophole around rule five and expressed that walking around without a shirt on wasn’t considered being naked.

You should have been upset that he failed to follow your rules. Instead, you found yourself startled by the mere fact that his tattoos covered more than just his arms and face—a colorful trail of ink traveling down beyond the waist of his jeans.

Sukuna seemed to find some sick joy in watching you cover your flushed face with your hands to shield yourself from the amount of skin he had on display—his coos and laughter was just the nail on the coffin to your shred of dignity.

“You’re cute, Red.”

Those days you chose to hide in your room until he left for work, knowing that he didn’t dare go in your room. He may be a dick, but at least he made some effort to respect your privacy.

He enjoyed getting a rise out of you. Whether it be standing too close or crowding you against the counter in the morning because you were in the way of the bowls he was reaching for—his deep laughter echoing around the kitchen as you quickly fled to your room.

It was your only safe spot, really.

Laying in bed one night, you thought back to when you pleaded with Gojo to find you a roommate, and a part of you kicked yourself for being so careless about your request. Because Sukuna was… well, he was a lot—he was probably as mentally taxing as Gojo.

You also became kind of curious of him, like what he did for work after noticing that some mornings he came home with bruises and scratches all over his skin. When you’d stare too long, he’d say something that would make you regret being curious.

“Thought you didn’t like me walking around without a shirt on, Red?”

You squeaked in embarrassment. “I don’t!” Then you dumped your bowl of forgotten cereal in the sink and scurried toward the bathroom—his throaty chuckle following you until the door closed.

You knew you’d never be able to ask him what kept him away until the crack of dawn every day. He’d make fun of you. So you listened quietly in your room as he noisily entered the apartment, curiosity piqued. You heard him shuffle down the hallway until the bathroom door clicked shut—and a few times, he didn’t come home alone.

One time you heard tinkling giggles coming from Sukuna’s bedroom, followed by breathy sighs and high-pitched moans.

What did he do for work that allowed him to hook up with women every other night?

You tried to tune them out, but it was difficult with the constant thumping of Sukuna’s bed against your bedroom wall—the sound of Sukuna’s voice reverberating throughout the room. And you couldn’t deny the effect his voice saying filthy things had on your body—your cunt pulsing and breath hitching.

“You look like such a fucking slut when you drool on my cock like that.”

Instantly, your thighs twitched again, and for a moment (only a moment), you imagined you were the one he was telling that to. Not some faceless woman you might have an awkward encounter with later on. What he’d look like hovering above you as you tried to fit his cock into your mouth. Would he coo at you when you barely made it halfway? Or would he give you that stupid smirk that also had your knees going weak?

The thought alone had your heart racing, and you quickly reminded yourself of rule number four… or you attempted to. But your hand was already slipping under your soaked panties, and you rubbed your throbbing little clit to the sound of Sukuna’s grunts.

When you hear his deep, drawn-out groan, you release all over your fingers with a tiny squeak that you failed to muffle. The apartment fell silent, and you prayed that they didn’t hear you—it’d give him another reason to tease you in the morning.

However, as whiny, girlish moans grace your ears again, you can’t stop thinking about the fact that you hoped he did.

~~~~~

You met with Gojo for your weekly coffee date three weeks after Sukuna moved in. Except for today, you were in his office because the best defense attorney in the city doesn’t have time for breaks today.

His words had you rolling your eyes, but you were fine not having to fight the afternoon rush.

You sat on the soft sofa in the corner of his office, moving a few files out of the way, when something caught your attention—a file with Sukuna’s name on it.

Your eyes narrowed into slits when Gojo walked into the room. He was utterly oblivious to the death glare you were giving him when he sat down on the couch next to you.

“Gojo Satoru.” He froze at the sound of his full name and stared at you with wide eyes. You never called him by his full name (especially not Gojo), so he knew he was in trouble. “What’s this?” you asked, holding up the manila folder with Sukuna’s name on it.

“Hey, what happened to calling me Toru?” he asked, altogether avoiding your question.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you gave a humorless laugh. “I don’t think you deserve it. Can you please explain to me why one of your clients has been living under my roof?”

“You did agree to anyone being your roommate, remember?”

You smacked his chest with the folder, not exactly in the mood for his games. “This isn’t a joke, Gojo! When I asked you to find me a roommate, I had complete faith that you wouldn’t mess it up.”

“I wouldn’t let someone live with you who I thought might hurt you,” he insisted as if that made the situation better.

“Then I feel like I have the right to see for myself,” you said, starting to open the folder. But Gojo’s large hand over yours stopped you.

“For the sake of me keeping my job, please don’t open that folder.”

His bright cerulean eyes were pleading with yours, so you huffed out a breath and tossed the folder back onto the couch. “You should be happy that I still even want to be your friend right now.”

“Aw, you don’t mean that.”

“I do.

Gojo pouted—he was actually pouting. He was such a man-child sometimes. “But—”

“Just answer this. Was it anything bad?” His frown grew deeper before you gestured toward the manila folder behind you. “His crime. Was it for anything bad?”

“Well, it was a crime—”

“Gojo,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“No, it wasn’t for anything bad,” he huffed. “Now, will you stop calling me Gojo? I only want to hear you call me Toru for the next thirty minutes.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t push him away when he decided to lay his head in your lap. “How did I end up being best friends with such a baby?” you said as you card your fingers through his hair.

Gojo hummed in reply, no longer interested in talking now that your fingers were lightly massaging his scalp.

Again, you wished you would’ve taken the time to be pickier about the whole situation.

~~~~~

After your lunch with Gojo, you became a little more cautious around Sukuna.

No longer were you curious about what he did for work or where he met all of his casual hookups. It was definitely best this way. You didn’t want to get more mixed up in his lifestyle than you already (unknowingly) were.

Whether he thought you were being more skittish than usual, he didn’t say anything about it. Not that you really gave him the chance to. Before his mouth could open, you were already leaving the room he was in.

You thought you could tiptoe around him without ever having to speak to him… Until he came home earlier than expected one day. Actually, you weren’t even sure that he’d left, and you froze at the sound of his voice coming up behind you.

He reached above your head for that damn cereal bowl he was so adamant about putting in the cupboard above your coffee pot. “I’m off tonight.”

“Oh?”

Your palms started to sweat. How were you supposed to do your work with Sukuna in the room next door? What if… what if he heard you?

“Yeah. Slow day, so they don’t need me.”

“I-I see… Can you excuse me?”

In a panic, you did the only thing you could think of and messaged Gojo:

Hey, can I use your spare room for work tonight? --- You

Only if I get to help. --- Toru

You rolled your eyes, but it wasn’t the first time that he’d helped you with work before.

Sure. --- You

~~~~~

Little did you know, Sukuna did start to wonder why you were avoiding him. He even thought about stupidly apologizing for something he wasn’t sure that he did. But he scoffed at the idea of doing something so mundane.

Bored, Sukuna plopped down on the couch and started scrolling through his phone. He thought that he’d be able to have you all to himself tonight, yet you’d only stopped briefly to tell him that you were going to work before heading out the door.

It was odd. He could’ve sworn that you usually worked from home…

He didn’t really give a fuck, though. Not really. It still didn’t fix the fact that he was bored, and the apartment was too quiet without your scared little squeaks filling the empty space.

You’d think he’d be used to being in big empty spaces after living by himself for so long. Instead, it only reminded him that he was alone now, and he didn’t feel like going out to find someone to fuck the loneliness out of his system.

Somehow, he wound up on some cam girl site, scrolling through the thumbnails until he found one that caught his eye.

• LIVE

SLUT SQUIRTS ONLY FROM FINGERS

A scoff left his mouth at the lengthy title, and he watched a short preview before deciding to watch it.

He hovered over the little icon, tapping once to pull open the video. It only took him a second to recognize that the face twisted in pleasure on his screen was yours. He already knew you were attractive, but he didn’t realize how mouth-watering you’d be under those baggy shirts and loose flannel shorts.

So this was what you did for work.

His mouth twisted downward when he noticed the guy behind you was his attorney. After weeks of trying to get you in his bed, or at least have a conversation with him. Here was Gojo-fucking-Satoru, two of his fingers shoved knuckles deep inside your small little hole as he made you fall apart in front of thousands.

He should probably back out of the video, somehow feeling like he was breaking one of those precious rules you kept for him. But he was intrigued that you kept a secret like this so well hidden after all of these months. His blushing little roommate.

So he watched.

“Come on, pretty, give me another.”

You whimpered, your legs attempting to close around the hand between your legs. That earned you a slap to one of your shaking thighs—thighs that looked like they’d be soft around Sukuna’s ears or his hips.

“Don’t be a brat. Everyone came here to see you give them a show.”

Sukuna drank in your expression— the way your lips formed a slight pout, the crease between your brow. Your chest heaved up and down, pretty pink nipples tight, as a clear liquid gushed from your used pussy. And finally, when you cried out as the white-haired male demanded another.

“Fuck,” Sukuna breathed.

His hand reached inside his sweats, pulling his throbbing dick out, hissing through his teeth when he gave the head a rough squeeze. He watched as Gojo slipped another finger inside you, now fucking you with three. And all Sukuna could think was, he could do better than that.

But this would do… for now.

He fucked into his fist without pretense, wondering what it’d feel like to have your nimble fingers wrapped around him. His strokes were rough, almost painful before he leaned forward to spit on the angry red tip of his cock.

Sukuna noticed your chest hitching again, tears coating the apples of your cheeks, and he knew you were about to come again.

“That’s it, pretty, fucking cum.”

He tuned out Gojo’s voice, pretending he was the one telling you that, and came to the sound of your raspy moans. “I-I’m cumming—”

Gojo finally pulled his fingers out of your twitching cunt, bringing them up to your lips for you to suck on. The sight had Sukuna’s spent cock twitching again—now knowing that you weren’t so innocent under those blushing looks and fluttering eyelashes.

He sighed. “You’re a fucking minx, Red.”

When you came home later, you were surprised to find Sukuna lounging on the couch with his arms spread across the back. You noticed his hair was a little messy, and there was a crazed look in his eye that made you gulp. Especially after the words that came out of his mouth next:

“I think we need to clear some things up, Red.”

♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 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.

୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 not a piece of cake !

req ! you worry the jjk men only want you for the goods.

ಇ. summary. fem!reader, hurt and comfort, angst .

ಇ. including. gojo, nanami, geto, yuji, megumi, yuta, toge, toji, sukuna.

likes n reblogs r appreciated !! 💗

𝝑𝝔 cool boyfriend sukuna x loser girlfriend reader !

just small stories from cool bf sukuna and his loser gf’s relationship!! set in college/university, with characters’ non-specified ages being over 18 :) sfw and nsfw!!

you can find more content about this series under the tag “cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader”, where i answer questions and stuff!

a little bit about the special treatment loser gf gets…

a little bit about sukuna teasing and loving his loser gf…

a little bit about loser gf imitating sukuna…

a little bit about dry humping with sukuna…

a little bit about drunk sukuna being a softie…

a little bit about sukuna getting jealous…

a little bit about sukuna seeing you in a skirt for the first time…

a little bit about sukuna and reader’s first meeting…

a little bit about sukuna and his loser gf yapping…

a little bit about you helping sukuna dye his hair black…

a little bit about sukuna showing you off…

a little bit about how sukuna deals with a difficult question his loser gf asks him…

a little bit about cool bf sukuna and his loser gf’s first date…

a little bit about loser gf ignoring sukuna…

a little bit about sukuna and his loser gf watching ‘the notebook’…

a little bit about what sukuna thinks of his relationship with his loser gf…

a little bit about loser gf meeting sukuna’s family…

a little bit about loser gf doubting her relationship with sukuna…

a little bit about cool bf sukuna and his loser gf reader playing basketball…

a little bit about reader’s first meeting with sukuna’s teammates…

a little bit about sukuna fingering his pretty loser gf for the first time…

a little bit about sukuna and his gf’s first time…

a little bit about loser gf babysitting yuuji…

a little bit about yorozu messing with loser reader…

a little bit about sukuna buying his loser gf a red lipstick…

a little bit about sukuna reassuring reader after she fails a test…

a little bit about sukuna taking care of his sick gf…

a little bit about sukuna being absent for a few days…

a little bit about sukuna and reader on the beach…

a little bit about sukuna and drunk loser gf…

a little bit about studying with cool bf sukuna…

a little bit about trying “is that seat taken?” with sukuna…

a little bit more about sukuna and reader’s relationship…

a little bit of happy birthday with sukuna…

a little bit about ‘i love you’s with sukuna…

a little bit about sukuna with reader who is struggling with saying ‘no’…

a little bit about sukuna doing the voicing gf’s makeover trend…

a little bit about reader getting injured…

a little bit about visiting the zoo with yuuji…

a little bit about reader being scared of needles…

a little bit about sukuna jerking off to reader riding her pillow…

a little bit about reader feeling lonely and sad without sukuna…

a little bit about sukuna getting angry at someone talking bad about you…

a little bit about having an argument with sukuna…

a little bit about sukuna meeting your friends…

a little bit about sukuna’s teammates…

a little bit about baking with sukuna…

a little bit about the aftermath of the argument…

a little bit about reader getting stood up by her friends…

a little bit about reader crushing on sukuna…

a little bit about reader on her first shift as a nurse…

a little bit about sukuna’s piercings…

a little bit of reader trying to be more direct...

Oh but you and sukuna getting ready to do double. And you think it's going to go normally with one in puss and the other on ass. But you feel both enter your ass and before you can say anything you are already being fucked as Sukuna's stomach tongue is lick at your clit and he uses his hand mouths to suck on your nipples while you just going into subspace babbling incoherently

aaahh 😝

♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 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 hand, 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, his mouth devoid of 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, a twisted token of affection. 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 dare 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 rich 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 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—”

“Ryomen,” 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, the name Ryomen echoing through your mind. Sukuna had been your private moniker for him, but now, in this intimate exchange, he was Ryomen. Your Ryomen. Maybe one day, you would shorten it to Ryo.

“Very well, Ryomen.” 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,” Ryomen 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 defiance.

“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, Ryomen,” 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.”

“Ryomen,” 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, Ryomen,” 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.

“Ryomen . . . ”

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.

js thinking abt sukuna fucking reader and toji at the same time (you can add aftercare if you want) 🫦🫦

၇͜ᩘ𑁍 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - smutty then fluffy - size difference - double penetration; anal & vaginal + 2 dick! kuna - biting - back-to-front + missionary positions - prostate orgasm - light choking - pet names (baby, little girl, mama, princess) - aftercare; cleaning + massages + cuddles - mention of drool/spit.

Sukuna, ironically born as a cursed man, was blessed with something that most beings on this Earth lack.

“Fuuuck, goddamn, y’ feel so good, baby.” 

“Haaahhh, ohmyGo—Ahhh! S-so f’ll…”

And now, he uses it to please the two sprawled under his bow. 

In his shared quarters, the four-armed beast spends tonight in the comfort of his two partners. Candles lit to bask the room in a warm glow, nude bodies stripped of their clothes and situated upon the soft futon that cushions below them.

Toji lay first, his bare back to the soft surface while your back was glued to his front, exchanging sweat with the heat as he held your legs up by the back of your knees. Sukuna towers the both of you; his lower hands keep Toji’s arms spread for easier access to his two cocks—one for each of his companions. 

The top cock was buried into your cunt, clenching on the girth with every scrape of your upper wall, causing you to whimper uncontrollably. The lower one is currently inside Toji’s ass, pushing his frame with every push of the hips, which aids him into thrusting into your anus all the while. 

“OhhGaaahhd!” The air around is steamy; hot skin meshed onto yours, and wet kisses are placed on your neck and cheek by Toji. “Feel so good, so…biiig!”

“Haaah, heh, I know, mama,” the raven-haired one huffs hotly to your ear. “Y’re doin’ good, though…Hnnnm! Holyfuuck, ‘Kuna!” 

A guttural chuckle is heard while the tongue of his stomach teases your thighs with licks. “What did I do? Was it…this?” He snaps his pelvis, and both his dicks venture deep into the both of you. A poke to your cervix, combined with a graze to the tissue of his prostate, has you and Toji moan in unison. “Hmph, felt that good, huh?”

“—Ghhhh, fuck, y’re such a dick,” Toji laughs hoarsely while his face is guided by your hand to bring him in for a kiss. The two of you sigh at the feel of each other’s lips, your tongue licking his def scar while placing soft pecks on the corner of his mouth.

Four scarlet eyes narrow at the sight of his partners being intimate under him, unable to suppress the predatory purr of his grin. The mouth of his abdomen lays smooches to your tummy—albeit a little sloppy yet endearing—and he cups your cheeks to face him the moment your kiss with Toji breaks, heavy pants causing the air to get hotter. “Enjoyin’ yourself, aren’t you, little girl?” He sneaks another rut to have you both curl your toes.

Your hands come up to hold the giant’s face. “Nahaaa, Suk’naaa,” the way you say his name makes him gulp. “I’m close, so cl—Mmmphfuuck!!”

“Fuck, you smell good,” the scent of your lotion clouds his nostrils as he bends down, the addition of his weight cages both you and Toji. His upper right hand comes to your throat, pressing on it not to choke but enough to deepen your haze. The same goes for Toji with the wrap of his upper left hand. “Gonna be good and wring me out, right?”

“Yessss,” you nod with a ditzy smile. “Make us cummm like you know how…!” 

He liked the sound of that. “Then stay still, and let me end this.”

Sukuna releases both throats and uses his upper hands as leverage while flexing his abdomen, his pelvis hammering his cocks down to the hilt, slapping his heavy balls onto Toji’s taint. Wails and groans of pleasure are expressed in the room’s atmosphere. More hits to your womb has you wrap your arms around Sukuna’s wide neck, clamping your walls more onto your husbands’ dicks. The length inside Toji keeps rubbing his prostate, and the deep murmurs flying out his scarred mouth sound bewitching to your ear. 

It isn’t before long that you submit to the climb of your orgasm; the contraction of your asshole and cunt have the two men hiss. Toji is second to succumb to an orgasm, ejecting his load into your tight channel while burrowing his face close to your neck. The both of you climaxing on Sukuna’s shafts are too good to avoid, pushing him into releasing his semen into his mortal lovers with a grunt. Shocks are shared amongst each other, and Sukuna claims your lips with his own, shoving his tongue inside for you to tend and hum to.

A few more pumps of his hips before the behemoth lets his muscles relax, sighing deeply to your kiss until you need air, placing his heavy forehead on yours. All three figures calm down, allowing the sounds of crickets outside to act like a spell to center themselves. Sukuna’s exhale tickles your skin. “You two did well.”

Toji scoffs. “We hope so; puttin’ us through a workout.” The salmon-haired other begins to move, slowly withdrawing his lengths from his partners. You and Toji sigh breathlessly at the subtraction, and your body slides off the onyx-headed one. “So much fr’ takin’ a bath before this, huh, princess.”

You titter aimlessly. “At least we came prepared.” Your conversation is cut short as Sukuna returns with a wooden bucket and washcloth. He wrings the cloth of the water and damps it around your lower half, wiping the come that’s spilling out and messing your thighs. He massages your ankles with his lower hands while he works. “And as promised, Sukuna takes care of his mess.”He glares at you while you giggle. He then places your legs down and does the same to Toji, wiping his ass with the warm washcloth. 

“That’s true,” the mortal man chuckles as Sukuna pushes Toji’s left leg to his chest, cleaning the excess come trinkled to his bum. “Not gonna have us all sweaty and sticky fr’ nothin’.”

“Shut up and get ready for sleep,” he ignores you two laughing at him while he stands to dismiss the bucket and cloth out of the room. A hand comes up and quickly moves with the flick of his fore and middle finger, slicing the burning ends of the candles to darken the room. He finds the futon, grabs the comforter from behind, and positions himself between you and Toji—his upper arms pulling both of you closer for warmth to flourish.

“Thank you, my Lord,” you say with appreciation, answered by a low purl by the behemoth. You then cling close, “Goodnight, Toji.”

“Night, baby.”

Crimson eyes don’t close until the two pairs of eyelids fall on their own, and Sukuna finally lets the darkness keep you three warm and safe.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ☆ dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.