“A Second Chance”

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characters: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Capitano Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif and Diluc x F!Reader

My KO-FI

They kiss on the ring. I carry the crown. (Chapter 1)

When your job requires you to meet Yakuza boss Sukuna, you hope that the house viewing will be over quickly and you will never see him again. But no one prepared you for how enticing the King of Tokyo's underworld is. And suddenly, you are in way over your head.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Mafia AU, smut, a bit fluffy too though because I love fluff Playlist: Mafia AU Word Count: 4k Warnings: 18+, smut, some dark crime-related themes (Yakuza, implied violence, implied murder in later chapters, gambling, alcohol), use of the name Daddy in later chapters, oral, fingering, creampie, cum eating, light spanking, exhibitionism in later chapters (that part could be initially seen as dubcon, but he gets consent from her). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

I wrote this story for my friend's The Killers lyrics collab. Thank you so much for this amazing collab @adelheidvonschicksal . My lyrics prompt is: They kiss on the ring. I carry the crown. Nothing can break, nothing can break me down. The Killers - The man.

Sometimes you think it would have been better if you had never met him. You blame your job on it. It was something you had wanted to achieve for years. Being high enough in the ranks that you were the one getting sent to meet the high-end customers and show them around in the most luxurious living spaces Tokyo had to offer.

He was your second high-end customer. You read the name and your eyes widened. Your boss laughed.

"Pretty impressive, huh? Don't fuck it up. We want him as a regular customer. Heard he isn't so happy with his current real-estate agent, so this is our big chance."

You met him a week later in a penthouse that was exactly as he had wanted. And he was as impressive as you had expected. The intensity with which he looked at you with those glinting maroon-colored eyes took your breath away. He was tall, handsome, exuding authority and wealth.

And danger. He was a dangerous man, only in his late twenties but already the head of one of the most influential Yakuza clans.

Itadori Sukuna. Also known as Ryomen Sukuna. That was the alias he was famous for. The man with the two faces. Rich, popular playboy, and businessman on the one hand. Ruthless killer and sadist, on the other.

You addressed him by his real name first. But he just laughed and shook his head.

"No need to be so formal. Call me Sukuna. I think we'll see each other regularly now. I got a big payment that needs to be invested into real estate, and one apartment won't do."

He was charming. Polite and smart, ready to make a joking comment all the time, grinning in a handsome boyish way, moving so gracefully and looking effortlessly sexy. He had a way of making everyone fascinated with him. You had been scared when he first walked towards you in his custom-tailored black suit and the slicked-back pink hair, black tattoos visible on his wrists and neck, and of course on his face. Only someone as powerful as him could have the nerve to walk around with Yakuza tattoos so provocatively visible at all times. He looked intimidating. But his charm worked in his favor, and the more time you spent showing him around, the more comfortable you felt. You didn't realize the web he was weaving until it was too late, and you were caught in it. He had been subtly luring you in, seducing you, the whole afternoon.

And then you bumped into his muscular body when you were trying to take a step back from the wine fridge you had been presenting to him, and suddenly his large hands were on your hips, steadying you.

"Easy there, you should be careful, don't want you to fall, do we?"

His deep voice was warm like honey, so seductive, just like the feeling of his warm breath on your neck.

He knew it just as much as you did. You were already falling. He had laid out a trap, and you had stepped into it.

Thinking back to that day, you can't say what it was exactly that made you give yourself to him. Was it his natural dominance and power? His good looks and the confidence? Or the danger lurking beneath his charming attitude? Maybe it was a combination of all of this that led to a temptation you couldn't resist.

What you know for certain is that you didn't pull away when his lips brushed over your neck.

Instead, you let out a shuddering sigh and leaned back against his solid body, craning your neck, offering more of your sensitive skin to him.

And he laughed that rude laugh before his hand pulled the collar of your blouse to the side, exposing more of your skin. His soft tongue licked a wet stripe all the way from your left shoulder up to your neck until his lips closed around your skin right under your jaw, where your pulse was fluttering nervously, and sucked on it.

You melted under his warm lips and tongue, his big hands on your hips, trailing up your sides before they unbuttoned your blouse, cupping your tits through your bra, making you gasp when his thumbs slipped inside and teased your nipples.

You were lost when you felt his firm, strong body press against you, lean, solid muscles, and a deliciously big hard bulge rubbing against your ass.

You knew he could do anything he wanted to you. He was so strong, so tall. He was so powerful. He could literally make sure you'd never get found again, and there was nothing anyone could ever do about it.

Because he was Sukuna. He was above the law. He was the King of Tokyo's underworld.

Maybe there was something wrong with you. Because it wasn't fear that you felt when this dangerous man undressed you. When he ran his warm, calloused hands over your body, twirling your nipples between his fingers. When he was caressing tight circles around your embarrassingly wet clit. When he slapped your ass before pulling down your panties. When he got on his knees behind you to fuck you with his tongue until you sobbed.

All you felt was desire. A craving so intense that you thought you'd die if you didn't get more of him.

You didn't tell him it wasn't appropriate for a customer to yank off your panties, lift you up, and slam you against the fridge. You didn't ask him to let you go when he rubbed his wonderful thick cockhead over your wet clit, laughing at the needy sounds you made.

He almost caressed you to orgasm with his cockhead, and you didn't tell him to stop. Instead, all you said to him was:

"Please... oh please..."

"What, please? Huh, princess, what is it that you need? Tell me. Say it."

"You!"

He chuckled, sounding amused and almost cruel,

"Me? You're a cute one. Do you really think you can have Sukuna?"

His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your head back, making you look up at him, at the smug smirk on his handsome face, the challenging glint in his eyes.

He leaned closer, lips brushing over yours before he licked your cheek, groaning softly when his tongue swiped up a tear that was running down your face.

His voice was low, a growl, so seductive that it made your body tremble in his strong arms.

"Let's make a deal. You can have my cock today. We'll see about the rest."

You didn't complain when he pushed his thick cock into your tight heat. Your legs tightened around his hips desperately, pussy sucking him in needily, making obscene squelching noises when he fucked into you. You had never been so wet for anyone.

He fucked you with rough deep thrusts, snapping his hips almost brutally, knocking the air out of you anytime his strong body pushed you hard against the fridge behind you.

But you didn't ask him to be more gentle. You didn't tell him to be careful so the expensive fridge wouldn't get any scratches. Instead, you twisted your fingers in his soft pink hair and moaned in sweet abandon, riding his gorgeous cock eagerly, meeting each of his hard thrusts with a needy roll of your hips.

"Yeah, baby. You like that, don't you? Getting fucked against the fridge like that. I knew you had it in you from the first moment I laid my eyes on you. Not as innocent as you look. Pussy so hungry for some bad boy dick."

You moaned at his words, hips jerking hard. And he laughed. Slapped your ass and laughed and rammed his cock into your soaking wet pussy, fucking you with hard deep strokes.

"That turns you on, huh? So fucking cute. And you're good at it too. Taking me so well. Can you take my bad boy cum too? Gonna fuck you so full of it. I'll give you my lawyer's card in case ya want to claim child support later on."

"Ah! It..it's ok...I'm on birth control... ah...!"

"Nice, but I wouldn't have cared either way. A cute pussy like yours needs to be filled up no matter what."

You should probably have been appalled by this, but you weren't. If anything, it made you even wetter.

You cried his name when you clenched desperately on his cock, your juices making a mess all over his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm and kept on ramming into you until he groaned into your neck and fucked spurt after spurt of his hot cum into you.

Afterwards, he helped you get dressed again. He was a gentleman, well mannered when he wanted to, polite.

And yet he picked up your panties from the kitchen floor and smiled at the creamy mess on them, pressed them against his face, and inhaled your scent deeply, swiping his tongue over them to scoop up your wetness. It was obscene. It was humiliating. Your face felt so hot, but Sukuna just laughed when his gaze met yours.

"No need to be ashamed. You were just really horny for me, princess. It's ok, I understand that. And I took good care of your needy little pussy for you, didn't I?"

He got on his knees in front of you, lifted your leg, and helped you into the panties, pulling them up slowly, his mouth following the way of his hands up your thighs, leaving soft kisses and little bites all over your skin. Until he reached your core and pressed a firm kiss on your now panty-clad clit.

He straightened up a moment later, tucking himself back into his pants and running a hand through his hair to smooth it down again, looking so unaffected as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if he hadn't fucked your brains out just a few minutes ago.

He turned to look at you with that cheeky smirk again.

"I'll take the apartment. I quite like the kitchen. The fridge is nice. Do you have the papers with you?"

You managed a weak smile and fumbled with your bag, fishing out the sale contract and placing it on the kitchen counter.

Sukuna didn't even bother reading it. He just held out a hand to you, demanding a pen.

"It would be my pleasure to do more business with your company in the future. Only if they send you as my personal real-estate agent, though. Arrange that for me, will you please, darling?"

His smirk was so insolent, and his maroon eyes bored into yours with a devilish glint in them, daring you to defy him, which of course, you didn't. Instead, you mustered up a smile and nodded, handing him the pen with a shaky hand, and watched as he signed his name under the contract.

He handed you the pen back, thumb caressing over your hand, sending shivers down your spine.

You returned to your office feeling like a whore as you placed the signed contract on your boss' desk, sure that everyone could see what you had been up to. Your panties were soaking wet, messed up from a mixture of your own creamy arousal and Sukuna's cum.

But no one said anything. Your boss was ecstatic, congratulating you and making you have a drink with him to celebrate this lucrative deal.

And that's how you met one of the most powerful mafia bosses of the world and became his little plaything.

He called you at work the next day. Your heart leaped to your throat when you heard his low sexy voice drawl your name making it sound like something lewd.

You looked around nervously, glad that you didn't have to share your office with anyone else, but still feeling as if the walls had eyes and were judging you for the throbbing between your thighs and the heat spreading through your belly upon hearing the Yakuza King's voice.

Sukuna talked business, asking for detailed information about the cleaning services available for the new penthouse you sold to him yesterday. It was something you could have easily told his personal assistant.

And yet Sukuna's voice was in your ear, caressing you through the phone, making you close your eyes and take a deep breath as you tried to fight the craving the soft, deep timbre of his velvety voice stirred in you.

"The standard cleaning contract includes anything you can find under number 4. It's rather basic, though. Sufficient if you want to let the apartment stay unoccupied. But if you decide to move in, I would suggest booking the comfort or deluxe options."

"How long did my cum leak out of you, princess? Did you shower right when you came home? Or did you want to keep it in you a bit longer? Did you maybe even finger yourself and fuck it back into you?"

You sat there, pressing your legs together desperately under your desk as he whispered those dirty things into the phone. You didn't know how to respond. But Sukuna wasn't waiting for an answer anyways. Before you could say anything, he already added:

"I want to see you again."

You couldn't help but moan softly at his words. It was pathetic how much you craved him. How much it affected you to hear that he wanted to get more of you.

Your voice sounded hoarse when you answered:

"I just got a new object in Shibuya in. Maybe you are interested in that? I could show you around..."

Your heart was beating so fast that you were scared you'd faint right there at your desk. The effect Sukuna had on you was embarrassing. And the worst thing was that he seemed to be so in control, so unaffected, when he laughed softly into the phone. His low voice was making your pussy throb when he said:

"It would be a pleasure. Tell me, Miss, what is the most impressive thing about that object?"

"The description says it has a beautiful, spacious sauna room."

"Sounds like a good place for you to ride my dick. I'm free at 5. Send me the location, sweetheart."

This little game continued for several weeks. Sukuna called you every other day. Never one of his assistants, always Sukuna personally. Asked you about possible new objects he could invest his money in. Made you read the descriptions to him. It always started as a regular business call. But after a while, he would say other things, taking the call in another direction.

"I want to bend you over my desk and watch you take my cock like a good little pet while you drool all over my bookkeeping files."

He always managed to make you cream your panties, being so out of it that you couldn't function properly.

And always his soft:

"I want to see you."

You agreed to meet him every time. You showed him new objects all the time. Only for Sukuna to fuck you in all of them. In luxurious beds with a view over Tokyo's skyline. On shiny kitchen counters and expensive designer couches. On beautiful marble floors because Sukuna couldn't wait and just ripped your panties down and took you right there on the floor.

It was your secret.

It felt forbidden. Meeting the Yakuza boss to let him kiss you and put his body on you. Giving in to the craving you felt anytime you thought about him.

Sukuna definitely wasn't the type of guy you should hook up with regularly. But he was the only one you wanted.

You chatted with some guys on the dating app you had installed, even met one of them for coffee. But they were nothing compared to the King of Tokyo's underworld. How could they? They were mere boys, while Sukuna was a powerful man.

He was exciting. He was sexy. He made you feel alive.

Meeting him always felt dangerous. It made your blood rush, made your nerve ends tingle with anticipation, breath coming out in excited little gasps. One look in his eyes, and you were lost. His lips made you drunk. His touch sent your head spinning. His cock made you feel like you were in heaven.

He became your drug. And you couldn't stop consuming him, always seeking that rush again, that feeling only he could give you.

It was after several weeks of clandestine meetings that things took a turn in an unexpected direction.

You were on the phone with Sukuna once again, and the conversation once again reached the point where he said:

"I want to see you."

You already showed him a floor in a spacious office building this week, and you hadn't been able to sit comfortably for two days after he dicked you down on one of the desks, bending you over it and fucking you so rough that all the files on top of it had tumbled down.

You had run out of objects to show him, especially since it was the end of the week. There was only one thing left.

"I could show you the weekend getaway you are interested in if you like."

You could hear the satisfied smirk in his voice as he purred into the phone:

"That would be splendid. But I want to get the whole experience before I invest my money in that. It costs a little fortune, after all. My driver will pick you up Friday at 8. Make sure we have the lodge all weekend."

He hung up on you before you could reply. Your heart was beating up to your throat. A whole weekend with Sukuna?

It was the worst idea ever.

It was the most tempting offer ever.

It was something you craved to a scary extent.

You decided to let fate decide. Surely your boss would turn the inquiry down and tell you it wasn't possible to let a potential buyer stay in an object for a whole weekend.

It turned out that the current proprietor was fine with it. He just wanted to sell the house for a reasonable price. And your boss was very adamant that you should sacrifice your weekend for this because, after all, Sukuna was your best customer! Anything to make him happy!

And so you spent the weekend getting fucked so full of Sukuna's bad boy cum that you were sure you would leak his seed for days afterwards.

He had you in his limousine on the drive to the lodge. Bounced you up and down on his thick cock while his face was buried between your tits and his tongue lapped hungrily at your nipples.

Once you reached your destination, he fucked you in the wonderfully soft bed next to the large window with a beautiful view of the beach. Made you sob his name and beg him for his dick while you were tangled in silk sheets and had the taste of expensive wine and chocolate on your tongue.

Later on he poured some of that chocolate over your naked body and licked it all up with his soft tongue, kissed and slurped it out of your jerking pussy until your cream joined the chocolate on his tongue, and he laughed against your sensitive bud.

He let you ride him in the jacuzzi on the porch while sipping champagne out of the most delicate crystal glasses. Told you how beautiful you looked when you fucked him here under the stars. He moaned your name into the night while his strong fingers tightened on your ass, and he pressed you down onto his cock fucking you full of his seed once again.

He was the best lover you ever had. He was rough at times but also could make slow sweet love to you. You got everything you ever dreamed of from him. He was unashamed and exuded confidence at all times. He knew how to drive you crazy, knew how to make you cum harder than you ever had before.

But he didn't just fuck you on that weekend. What the two of you had wasn't just sex anymore. It was more. And that was actually nice.

Sukuna was a charming man, even sweet when he wanted to. He could make you laugh, and when he smiled, he looked so pretty that it made your stomach do somersaults.

Here in the lodge at the beach, he wasn't the Yakuza boss. He was just a man enjoying his time away from work. He had replaced his usual suits with a plain black shirt and some dark red chinos or grey cashmere sweatpants, which hung so low on his hips that it was hard to focus on anything else but his v-line.

He took you on a night walk down at the beach, holding your hand the whole time and pulling you into his strong arms when you were getting cold. He lay with you in the sand to point up at the starry sky above you and explain the constellations and the myths behind them.

He didn't have sex with you during that walk. Just talked to you, and kissed you slowly, made you drunk on his lips and his sweet tongue. He made you feel special with the way he looked at you, as if you were more fascinating than all the stars above.

He made love to you later on when you were back in the weekend house, moving slowly on top of you, kissing you, and whispering sweet praise to you.

"God, you cum so prettily on my cock every single time."

It was on the second day that he came up to you while you were gazing out the window that overlooked the beach. He wrapped his strong arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder, and pressed a kiss to the side of your neck.

"I like being with you."

"Do you tell that to everyone you take on a weekend trip?"

He snorted in amusement and made you turn around. A strong hand cupped your chin and tilted your face up. His maroon eyes were burning with an unnamed emotion as he told you:

"I don't take anyone else on weekend trips. You're the only one. And I would like to keep it that way."

"You just met me a few weeks ago, Sukuna."

"So what? I know what I want. Or do you want to question my ability to make decisions?"

But his tone was amused, almost affectionate. And his thumb caressed your bottom lip tenderly. He smiled when you flicked the tip of your tongue over his fingertip before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it.

He fucked you against the window, pressing your ass against the cold glass and looking so gorgeous in the soft colors of the sun setting over the ocean, his eyes closing in pleasure when he shot his cum into your spasming pussy.

You knew you had a big problem.

You were too lost in everything he did since that very first day you met. Too lost in him. He had yanked you into this new exciting world of sex and money and danger. And you didn't want to leave again.

You felt regret when Sunday evening arrived and with it the black S-class to take the two of you back to the city. The weekend with Sukuna had been lovely.

You were sitting in the back of the limousine, sipping champagne, and next to you, Sukuna was catching up on his business e-mails while he had one large hand placed firmly on top of your thigh.

And you caught yourself thinking that it felt like the two of you were a couple. You liked it. You liked the thought of being the woman by his side.

He kissed you so sweetly good night before you slipped out of his car. The last seductive flick of his tongue made your legs shake even when you already stood on the pavement and watched the impressive vehicle with the black tinted windows drive down the street and finally vanish in the heavy Tokyo traffic.

Your bed felt too empty that night. You shivered without Sukuna's body heat to keep you warm. And in your dreams, all you saw was the beach and the glittering stars and Sukuna smiling at you.

Looking back, you know that the weekend trip was what made you fall for him. It wasn't just physical attraction anymore after that little getaway. Your heart yearned for him too.

Thank you so much for reading! When I read the lyrics, I immediately imagined a Mafia AU, and of course, it had to be about Sukuna! Tbh I was unsure first how the writing would go because it was something I had never written before. But it was so much fun, and Sukuna just took over the story like the King that he is lmaoo. I fell more and more in love with Yakuza boss Sukuna with every new paragraph I wrote. He's really charming, I guess! I hope you are a bit in love with him too and that you enjoyed this story! There will be two more chapters. Please let me know what you think! I would be very happy about comments and reblogs!

Here is chapter 2

How cruel, how unfair....

SLEUTH JESTERS

I read sleuth jesters while I was away from home and i ended up adoring it and then going "im gonna make a simple fanart" and ended up learning how to tween LMAOOO

Anyways this is a gift for @sunnys-aesthetic, creator of the Detective Au and @naffeclipse, the amazing writer behind Sleuth Jester on AO3!

Still image

-> To have found you was the world's regret, not mine

trueform!ryomen sukuna x reader

summary: born with two too many limbs and faces, he was abandoned, left for the nature to bury him in a grave at the mere age of six. apparently, there was one enemy to the nature of the world, who seemed to go against every rule of survival; you.

warning/s: heian era, smut at the end (skipable), sukuna has two dicks, use of sukuna's stomach mouth, p in v, creampies, slight breeding kink, praise and degrading kink, overstimulation, aphrodisiacs, angst, mentions of blood, nearing death (no actual death though), sukuna's villain arc, he was a monster you'd never despise, growing up together, they were both doomed from the start, fluff so i don't end it all, sukuna using you as a weight for training

a/n: i have no words. this man awakens something inside of me.

The rumors had spread like wildfire.

The child born with too many eyes, too many limbs, had devoured his twin in the womb. A demon cloaked in human skin, they whispered. He was evil incarnate, an abomination that would only grow stronger if left unchecked. But killing him outright would be a sin too great for their souls to bear. So they left him to rot. On the desolate side of the country, where even the air could be considered poison, they abandoned him.

They thought they'd washed their hands clean.

They thought starvation would take care of what they couldn't.

But death didn't come as quickly as they had hoped.

Sukuna was nothing more than a husk of a boy now, his four arms limp at his sides, his ribs threatening to pierce through his skin with each shallow breath.

Nature, just as cruel as mankind, had left him no mercy.

And then you appeared.

"Hi,"

The sound was soft, almost too soft for his dulled senses to catch. He barely mustered the strength to crack open one eye, a faint glint of crimson meeting yours.

"What?" he rasped.

You didn't answer right away, instead stepping closer to the monster that the land itself seemed to despise. There was no hesitation in your movements, no fear, no disgust.

"You.. you're just like me," you murmured.

Sukuna's lower right eye twitched, barely enough to take you in. You were as battered as he was—maybe worse. Wounds marred your body, some barely crusting over due to the lack of vitamins, others oozing sluggishly with infection. Your skin looked like it could rip at any given moment, stretched too thin over bones that jutted out in sharp angles.

You looked truly pitiable.

But Sukuna didn't care. Or at least, that's what he thought.

He was going to die anyway. Forming a bond would be useless.

He scoffed, his head lolling back against the harsh, cracked tree he was leaning on, waiting for death to take him away at the mere age of six.

"We're both dying,"

You said what he couldn't, spoke his mind instead of plastering him with questions.

You were younger than him, yet knew such harsh reality to come.

Your lips quirked in something resembling a smile, though it faltered under the weight of your exhaustion.

The boy hummed in return.

With that, Sukuna let his eyes fall shut, deciding to fade out the world— and you— with it.

Hours later, a sharp scent cut through his haze.

Sweet.

Fruit.

His eyes snapped open. He turned his head and found you kneeling beside him, holding a piece of overripe fruit out to him.

"Eat," you simply said.

He snarled— or at least tried to— but his voice came out weak and hoarse, "Don't… pity me."

Your brows furrowed, frustration taking over you. Without a word, you leaned closer, your small hand pressing against his chest. His eyes widened, alarm breaking through his mind.

"What are you—"

Before he could stop you, you raised the fruit to his stomach mouth. Its sharp teeth parted instinctively, and before Sukuna could refuse again, you fed him.

Your fingers brushed against his canines, but you didn't flinch. You didn't so much as blink as the beastly maw devoured the offering, juice dribbling from its corners.

His lower eyes narrowed, glaring at you even as the sweet taste spread across his tongue.

"Stupid brat," he muttered, but his voice lacked any true hatred. Towards you, that is.

You didn't respond, only settling back into your spot beside him, already reaching into a cloth bag for more.

"Wh-what's your.. ah- your name?" you mused as you revealed another fruit to him, guiding it to his stomach.

Unlike him, the maw ate gratefully.

He seemed to think, his body relaxing at the feeling of it getting taken care of.

Truthfully, the boy didn't have a proper name. He was named Ryomen due to his two faces— that was all to it.

He grunted, "Sukuna."

You smiled, repeating the name. With a grin, you revealed your name to him.

And surprisingly, he did the same thing.

He repeated it.

This became your routine.

You, a ghost of a child, scavenged for what little life had to offer. Sukuna, the boy they had condemned as a monster, became your charge.

Each day, you'd sneak into villages, weaving through the shadows like smoke. You stole food, medicine, anything you could carry with your frail form, and brought it all to him.

You hardly ate yourself.

No one knew who you were, only that you'd often show up and steal relentlessly.

"That stupid brat! Don't let her get away next time; she needs to be punished properly!"

"Sinning at such a young age is so unfortunate. May she find the right path."

"—there's no right path for her! The devil's captured her soul— we should finally burn this brat for good!"

Sukuna could say the same about them.

Those 'saints' who left you with infection-littered wounds.

Those 'saints' who chased after you for simple fruit.

A little girl, with more bones than meat.

Was Sukuna really the disgrace of the world when this was the way other people thought of innocent life trying to survive?

Whatever. He didn't have the time to think about it.

Not when he'd hold you with his lower arms to stop your squirming.

He discovered reverse cursed technique at a very young age, which became good use. He'd heal you, acting as if he couldn't hear your sobs.

Sukuna's touch wasn't gentle, nor was it kind, but it was efficient. His hands, rough and calloused despite his young age, pressed against your frail frame, glowing faintly with cursed energy as it stitched together your wounds. He worked silently, his expression unreadable, but his lower eyes betrayed the tiniest flicker of something foreign. Something he wouldn't dare acknowledge.

"You cry too much," he muttered, his voice gruff as if to mask the faint twinge of unease your sobs caused him.

—that, unfortunately wasn't a lie. You'd cry a lot. So much, the beast wondered when you'd ever run out of tears.

But in no sense were you a dramatic little crybaby. You'd cry a lot, but not often. When you did, you usually couldn't stop it anymore, and it would go on for hours— the monster had no idea what to do in that case. He figured he wouldn't kill you for the simple act, since you were so useful.

But that weeping would go on his nerves. It replaced the warm feeling in his organs— the one sitting slightly beneath the sternum— with a cold one. It'd feel like it was clutching, singing a melody of helplessness.

That must've been his nerves, he figured.

You were annoying him, he figured.

You sniffled, your thin fingers clutching at his wrist. "hurts," you whimpered, your face streaked with dirt and tears.

And there it was again— that feeling. Something in his chest was crinkling together.

"Then stop getting caught, idiot," he replied, his tone harsher than he intended. He focused on his work, forcing himself to ignore the wetness in your eyes. "Be faster. Smarter."

"I am fast," you argued weakly, your lips trembling, "they're just... mean."

The feeling in his chest was getting worse. Sukuna frowned, it almost resembled to actual pain.

A rare snort escaped him, bitter and sharp. "The world's mean. Get used to it."

You didn't respond right away, your small body trembling under his hands as he finished patching you up. Finally, you spoke, your voice quiet, almost inaudible. "Why do you help me then? If the world's so mean?"

Sukuna froze for a moment, his hands hovering just above your skin. His crimson eyes narrowed as he stared at you, his jaw tightening.

"Because I don't like broken things," he said simply, his tone cold and dismissive. "they're useless."

You blinked up at him, your expression unreadable. "Then why not let me die?"

He didn't answer, couldn't answer. His lips pressed into a thin line as he pulled his hands back, the glow of cursed energy fading.

"You didn't let me die either. Now shut up and eat," he snapped, shoving a stolen piece of bread into your hands.

You obeyed, gnawing at the stale crust despite how it scratched at your throat. You were used to it by now.

Sukuna leaned back against his usual tree— the one he almost died on— his multiple arms folding across his chest. He stared at you as you ate, his gaze deciphering, as if trying to solve a puzzle he didn't even want to admit existed.

"You're too small," he muttered after a while, breaking the silence.

You looked up, crumbs clinging to your lips. "Huh?"

"You're weak," he clarified, his tone blunt, "pathetic, even."

"Gee, thanks," you muttered, rolling your eyes.

"But," he continued, ignoring your sarcasm, "you're still alive. That means you're stubborn. Maybe too stubborn for your own good."

You tilted your head, watching him curiously. "And what about you? You're alive too."

He smirked faintly, a sharp, cruel thing that didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's because I'm stronger than them. Stronger than everyone. I just haven't gotten the chance to prove it yet."

"Then why didn't you leave?" you asked, your voice soft, "If you're so strong, why didn't you leave this place? Why are you still here? Feeding off fruit instead of hunting the animals to the north."

His smirk faltered, his expression hardening. "Because I have something to prove," he grunted, "to them. To the people who left me here to rot. To everyone who thinks they can decide what I am."

He was going to prove that the place they abandoned him to was the reason he was going to turn into a real monster. His career shall start from the place his realization begun. He would tear them apart, and only after this, shall he enjoy his own brought food; his victims.

You didn't respond right away, your gaze dropping to the bread in your hands. When you spoke again, your voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "I think you're just lonely."

His head snapped toward you, his red eyes narrowing dangerously. "What did you say?"

You met his glare head-on, your expression tired, and yet still stubborn, "I said you're lonely. That's why you don't want me to die. You don't want to be alone again."

For a moment, the air between you grew tense. Sukuna's hands twitched, his fingers curling into fists as if he were contemplating smashing your fragile frame into the dirt.

But he didn't.

Instead, he leaned back, closing his eyes with a huff. "You talk too much," he muttered, his tone laced with irritation.

You smiled faintly, the corners of your lips tugging upward despite the exhaustion etched into your face. "And you don't talk enough."

Another silence fell between you, this one less heavy, less suffocating. The two of you sat there, side by side, two broken children in a world that had already decided you didn't belong.

But for now, you weren't alone.

Then days started to turn into weeks, and the weeks blurred into months.

Sukuna grew stronger, his body filling out with lean, wiry muscle as his cursed energy became sharper, more controlled. You were still frail, still weak, but you had learned to move like a shadow, to steal like a raven amongst the humans.

Sukuna didn't understand it. Didn't care to, at first. You were wasting your energy on a lost cause. You should've run far away from him, left him to rot like everyone else had.

But you hadn't. Didn't.

And that caused him to grow over the years.

He grew rapidly, mainly because of his genes— but his muscles weren't something he simply got. He earned them by training.

What to understand under training? Well— he used you as weight, most of the time. You sat on his back when he did pushups or his arm when he trained his biceps. You were useful to Sukuna; that's why he kept you around.

Definitely for no other reason, though.

Nope.

Not because your voice relaxed him, lulled him to sleep.

Not because you smiled at him the day both of you were supposed to be left as nothing more than rotten bodies in this cruel world.

Not because you were so fearless of his anatomy— of him.

Not because you cared for him, so unnaturally much.

Not because you were a complete idiot for doing so.

And to keep things around meant taking care of them, unfortunately. He couldn't risk you dying on him. Not that he'd feel guilty.. sad or anything, but you were useful, could steal. And besides, he had spend a lot of years together with you. You'd grown into young adults together. He got used to your company.

So he never wasted any time when he healed your wounds. You usually had a lot of them, considering villages were basically hunting for you by now.

You even found a little shelter, good enough to hold the two of you. It was an abandoned temple, plants overgrowing the place— but it was enough.

The villagers were growing restless, their whispers turning to shouts, their torches raised.

"The girl's still out there!"

"She steals more than she can eat— she's bringing offerings to the devil himself!"

"We have to end this before they destroy us all!"

Sukuna listened to their cries from the shadows.

"Let them come," he muttered, his voice a low growl.

You glanced at him, worried, "Sukuna…"

He turned to you, his smirk sharp and merciless. "They wanted a monster," he grinned, "I'll show them one."

And for the first time, you weren't sure if you could stop him.

From the day Sukuna decided to show himself to the villages, things changed.

You didn't know what he was doing there. He wouldn't tell you, and you didn't ask. But every evening, without fail, he'd return to the little temple the two of you had claimed. Bloodied.

Always bloodied.

It was never his blood.

His steps would echo against the cracked stones, his frame filling the entrance. He wouldn't say a word, just slump down into his usual spot, waiting for you to do what you always did.

You'd kneel beside him, a bucket of water already at the ready, and begin cleaning him. Your hands worked methodically, scrubbing away the blood that painted his arms, his chest, his face. It didn't matter how much there was or how long it took— you cleaned it all, sitting in silence as the water turned red.

He never flinched. Never winced.

You didn't ask what had happened, and he didn't offer an explanation.

This was your routine now.

You decided you didn't like it.

You were getting left out. He was going cold— you couldn't care less if it were towards the village and the world only— but what about you? You wanted to hear his voice, to talk to him, to be with him.

It was only weeks later that you began to notice them. The marks.

The first time you saw one, it was faint, almost invisible against his skin. A single black line curling along the biceps that met the shoulder. You didn't say anything, even as more began to appear, making their way up his limbs, across his chest, spreading like a dark disease.

You knew what they were.

You didn't need to ask.

Each mark was a crime— a sin carved into his flesh, branding him for the world to see. Murder. Destruction. Chaos.

You knew that.

He knew you knew.

At first, he acted like it didn't matter. Sukuna was stubborn like that, always pretending nothing could touch him. But you saw it, the way his gaze would flicker to you when he thought you weren't looking. The way his hands sometimes twitched when you got too close, as if he expected you to pull away.

He was scared.

Scared that you, out of all people, would abandon him.

But you didn't.

You didn't say a word when the marks began to spread across his shoulders, his back, his neck. You didn't flinch when the blood he came back with multiplied. You didn't recoil when his smile started to look more like a snarl, his eyes gleaming with something you didn't want to name.

You didn't support what he was doing.

But you would never stop him.

For the world had done the same to him.

Because no one stopped when they left him to rot, when they whispered behind their hands and turned their backs and called him a monster before he even had a chance to be anything else.

Because even though you didn't agree with him, even though you hated the blood and the way he was slipping further and further away from whatever humanity he had left…

You would never abandon him.

So you stayed.

Even as the marks spread like a curse, even as the villagers' cries grew louder, even as Sukuna's laughter began to echo like something bad had won against the world, you stayed.

Because that's what you'd always done.

And maybe that's why, when the marks started creeping toward his face, curling along his jaw and across his lower eyes, Sukuna never stopped coming back.

No matter how bloody he was.

No matter how much darker he seemed.

He always came back.

To you.

After Sukuna had received all possible markings on his body, you found yourselves wandering off the place it all started with.

He'd proven himself.

It was time to take over his own estate now. He shall be the god amongst the mere humans whom despised him, with you by his side.

Sukuna found an estate on a whim.

It was a massive structure, sprawling across the countryside like a symbol of decadence. It belonged to a king, or at least someone who thought themselves important. Sukuna didn't care who— it didn't matter. All he saw was an opportunity.

He stalked through the gates, dragging you behind him by the hand like a silent shadow. You didn't ask questions, didn't protest. You trusted him. Perhaps a bit too much.

He wasn't sure what pissed him off more; the way you clung to his side so willingly or the fact that you made him hesitate.

Sukuna had stormed into that estate ready to kill— prepared to cut through guards, nobles, anyone who dared stand in his way. But the moment he stepped inside, the warmth of your hand in his made him pause. Just for a second.

He grumbled, the sound low and guttural in his throat.

"Brat," he muttered under his breath.

You blinked up at him, confused, but before you could ask, three of his arms moved. Two hands covered your ears, and the third wrapped protectively around your head, shielding and blinding you from what he was about to do.

The remaining arm was the one he used to guide his slashes, cutting through flesh and bone as if it were paper.

Guards rushed at him, swords raised, and fell just as quickly. Blood splattered the polished floors, the walls, the pristine decor meant to show off the king's wealth. Sukuna moved like a storm, calculated and ruthless, cutting down anyone who dared oppose him.

But there were some who didn't fight.

Some dropped to their knees without question, trembling as they bowed their heads.

Sukuna's grin widened, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light.

"Swear your lives to me," he commanded, his voice a deep, menacing growl that echoed through the halls, "pledge your loyalty, or join the rest of them."

And they did.

One after another, they vowed their lives to him, fear etched into every syllable. Those were the ones he let live.

By the time he finished, the estate was his.

Blood soaked the floors, the stench of death heavy in the air, but it was done. Sukuna had claimed his place.

Servants began arriving the next day, desperate for shelter. They came from villages he'd decimated, from towns that whispered his name with equal parts fear and reverence. They gave their lives to him willingly, swearing fealty in exchange for protection.

Because that's what you had always done.

There was one habit Sukuna had carried with him since childhood— a strange, unspoken thing neither of you dared to label or even fully acknowledge. Whatever it was between you two, it wasn't something the world could define.

Certainly not a couple. That wasn't the right word. No.

But also… not not that.

It didn't matter. No one dared lay a thought on it.

The habit in question? Sukuna couldn't sleep unless you were right there. Not just near him, but with him. On him, preferably.

From the time you were small, he'd insist you lay against his chest, your frail frame curled up against him like you were the only shield he needed. As you grew, it became more than that— skin to skin contact. He craved it, though he'd rather rot in hell than admit it.

When you'd press your cheek against him, limbs tangled together as if the world wasn't constantly trying to tear you apart, Sukuna could actually relax. When your warmth pressed into his, he could let his many eyes close, feel his breathing even out. He swore he didn't care about the way your fingers would clutch at him in your sleep, or how you'd bury your face in the crook of his neck.

Didn't care that you drooled on him, for God's sake.

He definitely didn't admire that.

But there were nights when you'd wake up to find him staring at you, his eyes soft in a way you rarely saw. And he'd smirk, teasingly so, just enough to throw you off.

"You drooled all over me again," he'd mutter, pretending to be annoyed as he wiped at his skin, though the smug tilt of his mouth betrayed him.

You'd groan, shoving at his chest, "Then stop using me as a pillow."

"Who's using who?" he'd reply, wrapping his arms tighter around you so you couldn't escape.

It was stupid. Pointless. But also… it wasn't.

Because in those moments, when it was just the two of you and the rest of the world could burn for all you cared, Sukuna wasn't the bloodied monster that came home to you. And you weren't the ghost of a child stealing scraps to survive. (Which, frankly, you didn't need to anymore, since Sukuna took charge of that. However, the villages contained a.. feeling.. you liked to experience. The bits of humanity. Sukuna didn't stop you, for he didn't understand, but he trusted you.)

There was once, when Sukuna had never experienced you like this. Not once in all the years he'd known you.

You came back from the village as usual, empty-handed this time, but without so much as a scratch on you. At first, he thought nothing of it— maybe you'd been lucky, maybe the villagers were slacking, maybe...

But then, you didn't say a word. Not one.

You were always the one to start conversations. Always the one filling the empty silence between the two of you with your endless chatter, your stubborn questions, your little quips that only made him smirk. So why the hell were you quiet now?

It irritated him.

"Oi," Sukuna barked, his sharp tone bouncing off the temple walls, "say something."

You didn't respond.

He narrowed his eyes, his arms crossing over his broad chest. This was weird. Really weird. Then he got a good look at your face, and something about it made his stomach twist, and the feeling in his chest cold.

You looked sad.

Why did you look sad? You weren't supposed to look like that. That wasn't you.

"Stop making that face," he snapped, scowling to cover the strange unease rising in his chest.

You still didn't respond, huffing and walking away to another room— that definitely was not the one you'd share with Sukuna. For mere sleeping habits, obviously.

Then he noticed you weren't eating either. That was the final straw. Sukuna was no saint— far from it— but when he was half-dead, starving, and barely able to move, you'd shoved food down his throat whether he wanted it or not. You fed him, cared for him, even when he didn't deserve it.

So maybe, he thought, he should do the same for you.

Yes. Yes, that was the answer.

Of course, Sukuna had never been great with the whole 'gentle' thing. Or 'patient.' Or 'subtle.'

So when you didn't eat the dried meat he shoved into your hands, he huffed and decided to take matters into his own hands.

Literally.

"Open your damn mouth," he growled, his lower arms grabbing your face with surprising force. Servants around the room stilled, their eyes widening. They knew you as the King's treasure— they never expected him to care, whatsoever.

You blinked up at him, startled, but still didn't say a word.

"Don't just stare at me— eat!" he barked, attempting to shove the food toward your mouth. When your lips remained stubbornly closed, his frustration boiled over, "Fine, you wanna be a brat? Then I shall make you—"

Without thinking, Sukuna grabbed your jaw, prying your mouth open with way too much force. His grip was rough, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he tried to shove the food in.

"Stop being so damn stupid—!"

Before any of the shocked servants could even dare to say anything, your muffled protest and wide eyes finally registered in his brain. He froze mid-action, realizing he was practically choking you.

"..Oh."

He pulled his hands back abruptly, the dried meat dropping to the ground between you. You coughed a little, your eyes watering, and for a brief moment, Sukuna actually felt awkward.

Which pissed him off even more.

"Whatever," he grumbled, crossing his arms again and glaring at the wall, "you're lucky I even bothered, fool."

You finally spoke then, your voice soft and hoarse from disuse. "…Sukuna?"

"What?"

Your lips trembled, and you looked up at him with that same sad expression that made his chest ache. "Thank you."

He scoffed, turning his head away so you couldn't see the faint pink tinge creeping up his neck. "Don't thank me. Just eat next time."

But you didn't.

And Sukuna, for all his glory, didn't know how to fix you.

And that terrified him.

He didn't know what was wrong, didn't know how to make you better, and the longer you stayed like this— silent, withdrawn, not you— the more it ate away at him. He wasn't used to fear, not like this, and it pissed him off.

So the next time you went into the village, he came with you.

It was a rational decision, he told himself. If he could just see what was going on, maybe he could figure out how to fix it. Plus, he'd make sure nothing happened to you while you were out.

The villagers, of course, noticed immediately. Sukuna wasn't exactly subtle. A hulking figure with four arms and marks that practically screamed danger didn't exactly blend into the background.

This was no longer just you, the lone thief darting through shadows.

No.

This was you and Sukuna, the two of you together.

A pair.

You were the reason Sukuna had survived this long. He knew that. Knew that now the villagers would too. They'd hunt you harder, piece together the truth of how you'd kept him alive, how you'd made him the monster they feared.

He didn't care.

He wasn't going to leave your side anyway.

You were safest with him. No one would dare lay a finger on you while he was there. That was the message he sent, loud and clear, as he walked beside you through the village, your hand clasped firmly in his.

But then he saw it.

The way your expression shifted.

You stopped, your gaze snagged on a group of children sitting in the dirt, their little hands busy smearing bright colors inside simple lines drawn on scraps of parchment. They were laughing, giggling, so blissfully unaware of the two of you.

Your frown deepened.

And that's when Sukuna realized.

This— this— was the reason for your depressive episode.

He froze, staring at you for a moment before he let out a loud, echoing cackle. He laughed so hard his sides ached, his upper hands clutching his stomach while his lower ones rested on his hips.

"That's what's got you sulking?" he sneered, "This? A bunch of brats smearing colors like idiots?"

You turned to him, cheeks hot with embarrassment, lips tugged into a pout. "Shut up."

He barked out a low, mocking laugh, leaning closer as his sharp teeth glinted. "Oh, don't tell me you're jealous of that? You wanna crawl around in the dirt and finger-paint too? What's next, you gonna cry about it? Pathetic."

You huffed, crossing your arms with a glare. "Hey! I haven't cried about such things since.. forever now— you can't bring that up!"

But you weren't mad.

Just pouty.

And he found that absolutely hilarious.

Back at the estate, though, Sukuna couldn't shake the image of your face in the village. That look of quiet longing, of sadness. It stuck with him, crawling under his skin until he couldn't ignore it anymore.

So, begrudgingly, he thought about it. Really thought about it.

And then, with a dramatic sigh, he sat down beside you, crossing his lower arms over his lap while the upper ones gestured at his body.

"Here," he said gruffly, as if this were a full sentence made to understand immediately.

You blinked at him, confused. "What?"

"My marks," he muttered, already annoyed at how awkward he felt, "use them. Color inside the lines or whatever. Just— stop looking like that. It's annoying."

Your mouth fell open in surprise, and he immediately regretted it. "Don't make a big deal out of it," he snapped, scowling, "if it'll stop you from sulking, then fine. Go ahead. You can even add new ones if you want."

Your face lit up, a spark of your usual self finally flickering back to life. "Really?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?" Sukuna grumbled, pretending to be annoyed even as relief washed over him, "Just don't mess it up."

You grabbed a piece of charcoal from your stash with a grin, leaning closer to him. "Don't worry, S'kuna. I'll make you beautiful."

He rolled his eyes.

"To think of it, you're already really beautiful.."

He scoffed, his lips curling up, "I am no such thing."

"To me, you are."

"..."

Your relationship was fine. There wasn't much else you could say about it. You weren't ready to ruin anything, and being in his arms made you content enough.

But there was this constant urge to have more.

You didn't understand these feelings fully, but you did know there were times when you wanted to please him desperately.

That's why you started training. A lot.

Obviously, you'd never live up to the King himself, but there was no denying the fact that you did… bloom. You didn't run anymore— not when you were able to take out people on your own.

And while you did all of this with the intention of keeping yourself safe, you somehow got another reward out of it.

His praise.

Your guilty pleasure.

You tried not to let it show, but you were desperate for it. Almost like a dog wagging its tail, ready for a reward after performing a trick.

And while Sukuna hadn't noticed that you specifically craved his praise, he had noticed that you'd grown a lot more obedient. You'd follow his orders without snarky remarks, without hesitation.

Take eating, for example.

Back then, Sukuna would've been fuming because, despite your circumstances and how you grew up, you were a picky eater. And Sukuna had actually been trying his best to break that habit.

Now? Now you ate without another word. No sarcastic quips. No fights. No using the King of Curses as your personal climbing material to escape his four arms.

Nope.

Just you, grimacing after each bite of whatever questionable food you'd been handed.

Sukuna was confused.

Hence why you didn't get the praise you'd been so desperately hoping for.

Well, fuck you, you cunt. What did I eat this fucking piece of shit for?

As you sat picking at a particularly unappealing piece of food, Sukuna finally snapped.

"Alright," he growled, crossing his arms over his chest, all four of them. "What's your deal?"

You blinked up at him, feigning innocence. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me." His eyes narrowed, glowing faintly in the dim light. "You've been acting weird. Eating whatever garbage you're given, training like a lunatic, not mouthing off— what's going on with you?"

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on your food. "I'm just… trying to pull my weight, that's all."

"Bullshit," he said flatly.

You flinched, your grip tightening on your fork.

Sukuna leaned forward, "Out with it," he demanded. "what are you trying to prove?"

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are."

You hesitated, biting your lip, and Sukuna's frustration grew. He hated when you shut him out.

"I just…" You took a deep breath, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just want to make you proud, is all."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable.

And then, to your utter shock, he let out a low, rumbling laugh.

"That's it?" he said, his tone mocking but not mean, "You want to make me proud? You're such an idiot."

Your face burned with embarrassment, and you opened your mouth to retort, but Sukuna cut you off.

"Listen," he begun, "You don't need to break yourself to impress me. You're already here, are you not? That's enough."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you looked up at him, your eyes wide.

"Now eat," he barked, his tone snapping back to its usual gruffness. "And stop making that stupid face. It's annoying."

A small grin tugged at your lips.

"Yes, your Highness," you said, mockingly formal as you took a big, dramatic bite of your food.

Sukuna rolled his eyes but didn't bother hiding the smirk that spread across his face.

When letters started to come in, no one really knew how to address you.

You weren't his queen. You weren't his wife. You weren't his servant, and you certainly weren't his concubine.

You were you.

A force unlike anything the world had ever seen. The only soul who dared to hold Sukuna's gaze without fear, who could make him snarl one moment and laugh the next.

If there was one thing everyone knew, it was this; Sukuna respected you. A respect so profound that it bordered on reverence— something not even gods themselves could hope to achieve.

One day, another letter arrived.

It was addressed to you, though the sender didn't dare write your name. Instead, it bore a simple title,

The Crow.

The name wasn't unfamiliar. After all, it wasn't far from the truth. You had once been the solitary figure scavenging food for Sukuna, feeding him when the world left him to rot. Always flitting in and out of danger, quick and clever, much like the bird they now associated you with.

Sukuna scoffed at the name when he looked over your shoulder, your legs dangling off of his lap, a sharp smirk tugging at his lips. "The Crow, hm? How poetic."

You rolled your eyes. "What else would they call me? It's better than 'Bearer of Death' or 'The Pest', no?"

He barked out a laugh, leaning back on his throne, "I'd kill them myself if they dared to write something that pathetic."

The letter was an invitation from a village requesting your presence. It was worded carefully, dripping with false flattery and desperate pleas.

"They need you," Sukuna read aloud mockingly. "Right. As if this isn't a trap."

You knew it, and so did he.

But still, you folded the letter neatly and tucked it away.

"I'm going."

Sukuna's expression darkened instantly. His gaze bore into you, sharp and unrelenting. "No, you're not."

You raised a brow, "You're not my keeper."

"Correct. I'm your king," he snapped, hands finding their way to your waist, almost as if silently stopping you from an escape, "and I forbid it."

"Then come with me,"

He stilled, his gaze narrowing as he weighed your words.

"if it's a trap," you continued, "they won't expect you. In that case, we— you don't have to worry about dinner tonight."

Sukuna grunted, a smirk blooming on his face, "You're insufferable."

"So I've heard."

The two of you arrived at the village a few days later, Sukuna at your side.

The air was thick with unease as villagers scattered like mice at the sight of him. His reputation preceded him, the stories of his cruelty and power leaving no room for doubt.

What confused them most was him.

Why was he here? Only you were invited.

The village leader greeted you hesitantly, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"We… we didn't expect both of you to come."

"Clearly," Sukuna drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. His lower arms crossed over his chest while the upper ones rested at his sides, ready to strike if needed. "You thought you'd lure her here and what? Take her from me? Did you think you could threaten me in this way?"

The leader paled, stumbling over his words. "N-no, my Lord, we—"

"Enough." Sukuna's voice silenced the man immediately, "Speak. Why did you call her here?"

The village leader fumbled, his gaze flickering nervously between you and Sukuna. "W-We need her help," he stammered, voice quivering as he addressed the King. "A newborn… was recently b-born here." His words faltered, his fear evident as he glanced up at the King, "He's… different. B-Born with two faces."

The man swallowed hard, his trembling hands clasped together in desperation. "He's sick. None of the doctors outside the village will touch him," he admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his plea. Then, his eyes turned to you, filled with a desperate kind of hope, "We heard the stories— how she saved you— and we thought…"

"You thought wrong," Sukuna growled.

But before he could end the man's life with a single swipe, you stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm.

"Let me handle this," you said softly.

His gaze flickered to you, his jaw tightening. After a long moment, he relented, stepping back with a low grunt.

You let the villager take you to the hut where the newborn was.

You knelt before the makeshift crib, your hands trembling slightly as you reached out to the newborn. He was tiny, frail— two faced.

One face contained of nothing more than fear, whilst the other cried out in pain. Yet, when your arms wrapped around his fragile body, he quieted, though soft whimpers still escaped his lips.

"Shh, little one," you murmured, your voice as gentle as a breeze. Sukuna watched silently from the corner, his arms crossed.

Carefully, you checked the baby's temperature, your fingers brushing over his small, fevered forehead. You examined his tiny body for signs of illness, taking note of the unnatural features that made the villagers so fearful. His two faces twisted slightly as he squirmed in your arms, but he didn't cry out again.

Turning to the trembling leader and a few others standing nearby, you, usually being considered nice, spoke firmly, "He needs specific care. His fever has to be brought down immediately. You'll need fruits rich in vitamins— papayas, bananas, oranges. Vegetables too. Carrots, spinach. And a steady supply of milk." Your gaze hardened, daring them to question you. "If you fail to provide him with these, he won't survive the month."

The leader nodded rapidly, almost stumbling over his own feet as he rushed to fulfill your demands.

Meanwhile, the baby's tiny hand gripped weakly at the fabric of your sleeve, his innocent gaze drifting up to meet yours. His other face, half-formed but expressive, mirrored the longing in his eyes. He clung to you like you were the only safe haven in his fragile world.

But then his gaze shifted, catching sight of Sukuna looming nearby. The King's lower set of eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his lips twitching into something between a pout and a scowl. The baby's hand hesitated, releasing its hold as if sensing Sukuna's displeasure.

You glanced at Sukuna, raising an eyebrow at his ridiculous expression. What was he? Jealous? Of a baby?

Biting back a laugh, you turned your attention back to the infant, cradling him closer and pressing a kiss to his tiny forehead. "Don't mind him," you whispered, though loud enough for Sukuna to hear, "he's just grumpy because he's not the center of attention for once."

Sukuna scoffed, his arms tightening across his chest. "Tch. Keep your bratty comments to yourself."

You grinned at him, unbothered by his tone. "Aw, is the mighty King pouting? You're really going to compete with a newborn now?"

"I do not pout."

"Oh, you absolutely do," you teased, hugging the baby close for emphasis. The infant snuggled into you, his soft breaths warm against your skin. He reminded you so much of Sukuna, except Sukuna's beginnings had been so much harsher, so much crueler.

Your smile softened as you glanced over at the man, "You were like this once, you know," you said quietly, "but worse off. No one held you like this, did they?"

"That's irrelevant," he muttered.

You turned back to the baby, rocking him gently. "Not to me,"

Sukuna didn't respond, but he didn't look away, either. Even in his silence, you knew he was watching, remembering.

He hated this.

Hated the way they looked at you, as if you were their savior. As if they had any right to ask for your help after the world had abandoned you. For no reason, might he add. You were not the devil's incarnation, you hadn't been a bad child, hell, for all he knew, you could be considered an angel. And yet, you were in the same state as he was the very day you two met. The world treated you so harshly for your mere existence. And Sukuna hadn't forgotten.

He stayed silent, letting you work.

When the day ended, you returned to his side, hands stained with herbs. He said nothing.

And yet, the villagers had the audacity to offer you flowers— an attempt at gratitude.

They were beautiful.

They promised you they smelled even better.

Who were you to decline?

But beauty has a cost.

The flowers— so innocent-looking, so sweet-smelling— were anything but.

The trouble began not long after.

At first, Sukuna noticed how clingy you became, latching onto him even more than usual. You'd run your hands through his hair (despite his scowls and harsh hushes), trace the tattoos along his arms, or rest your head on his chest longer than necessary. He didn't mind— not that he'd admit it— but it was odd. It was unlike you to be so needy.

Then, just as suddenly, you pulled away.

Your skin flushed, your breathing uneven. You seemed distant, yet restless, quirking around like a lost little thing.

And in the blink of an eye, you stormed off to the room you shared with him. No explanations. Just silence. The servants barely had time to question your behavior. You disappeared before they could even open their mouths.

Sukuna pretended not to care. You were probably sulking, he told himself. Maybe something the villagers said had gotten under your skin. But the longer you stayed locked in that room, the more agitated he became.

He wasn't going to check on you— not immediately, anyway. That would mean admitting he cared, and he wasn't about to give anyone that satisfaction.

Instead, he sent servants.

The first returned looking pale, as if they'd just seen a ghost.

"What's wrong with her?" Sukuna growled, standing at an intimidating height.

The servant stammered, failing to form a coherent response.

Useless.

A single strike ended their misery, and Sukuna turned to the next.

One by one, the servants were sent to your room, and one by one, they returned looking worse for wear— shaken, nervous, almost beaten down mentally. None of them gave him a straight answer. And that annoyed him beyond hell and earth.

By the third corpse, he was growing impatient.

Finally, one brave— or perhaps foolish— servant stepped forward, bowing low to avoid her wrath. "My Lord… it's not our place to say. You… you should see for yourself. But she… she needs time. Give her a moment, then go to her."

The King's eyes darkened, his lips curling into a snarl. Time? You needed time? For what?

Still, the servant's trembling voice and the hint of genuine concern in their words stopped him from storming in immediately.

"Fine," he grunted, dismissing the servant with a wave of his hand, "half an hour. If she's not better by then, I’ll deal with it myself."

The servant bowed deeply, sharing a concerned look before retreating as quickly as they could.

And so, Sukuna waited.

What was wrong with you? And why the hell hadn't you told him?

Inside the room, you were fighting for your life. You were left dizzy and overwhelmed. You pressed a hand to your forehead, trying to steady your breathing, but it was no use. The sensation was maddening, your body betraying you in ways you couldn't explain.

Your abdomen burned. It felt too hot for your body, and you were desperate. Desperate to get rid of it, to loosen it, to feel pleasure.

You cursed under your breath, glaring at the damned flowers on the bedside table. They were the culprits. Had to be. Their sweet, heady scent lingered in the air, mocking you.

And then it dawned on you.

They were aphrodisiacs.

You yelped, mewling in, what you could consider, pain. Pain of the lack of touch.

One thought after another paced into your mind, but the one that stung the most must've been the simple question; why?

Why did the villagers do this? Hadn't you helped them well enough? Weren't you good?

Were they still, after having received your help, desperate to damage the King's property? In order to weaken him?

You scoffed at the thought. Yeah, as if.

The more disgusting thought probably had to be that they weren't in disgust of you, no, they wanted you to reproduce. They wanted more of Sukuna's kind, for the man also had worshippers, not only enemies. And this village had been such as those, you hadn't missed their eyes lingering on the King's large form.

What had you done to deserve this?

You'd have to tell Sukuna eventually.

And that would mean the death of the villagers.

You didn't want that, either.

But it was only a matter of time until said King would find out about your condition.

You thought, maybe he'd find out by the use of his enhanced senses. He'd smell the aphrodisiacs, and know what had happend to you. Or maybe he already knew these type of flowers, and he'd be able to tell by the mere look of them.

What you hadn't expected was for him to find you hopelessly humping a pillow.

The one placed in the bed you shared with him.

You had thought he went hunting— and no other servants dared to enter his room without knocking and getting an approval.

And for his sake, you would've been embarassed to see him standing there, his upper arms crossed, his expression fading from surprised to.. amused? Whatever. The King could never be surprised, could he?

You would've been embarassed, if it hadn't been for the high effects these flowers had casted upon you.

You felt like you were in heat.

You couldn't stop. A mess of whimpers, mewls and moans was what you were.

"..m-m ngh- haa- 'm s-so.. s.. sorry— 'kuna—!"

To Sukuna, you were a sight worth millions.

What could he say? Your tits, once hidden behind your kimono, were out, bouncing along to your hopeless humping. Your hair was messy, your eyes droopy, but open enough for him to catch your blown out pupils— not to mention the fact that you looked up at him as if he were your savior. Your breaths came out shallow, and your moans.. your moans were what he could consider a masterpiece. It only added to his own arousal when you moaned his name. Well, petname now, apparently.

He wanted to touch you.

To demolish you himself.

"They've drugged you. I see. Their village shall burn to the grounds—"

"N-no! -kuna p-please don't leave meee!—" you panted, desperately rubbing your clit now.

He wasn't planning to leave, however hearing you beg for it was a little cherry on top. He smirked, nearing you as he yanked your hand off of your poor bud.

And shit, the way you looked up at him— your eyes glossy, partly embarassed and partly so deep in the haze of your own arousal.

His other hand tangled into your hair, snapping your head up to look up at him.

He spoke lowly, his voice a mere rasp,

"Tell me what you desire, my dove."

"You."

No hesitation.

Well fuck, if that didn't make Sukuna rock hard, then he'd be doomed.

"Hm. Stop your humping on that thing. Come here."

His hold on your hair guided you up. You whimpered, the loss of friction and close release could've been enough of a reason for you to have started sobbing.

"Your body is truly pathetic. You can't even withstand a mere aphrodisiac. How are you to survive in this world without me by your side?"

He yanked you up, holding you with his lower arms by your thighs as he pressed you to the nearest wall. You whined, the little clothing you still owned slipping down your form, leaving you fully naked. He was already shirtless, never fond of any tops.

"Hm. A day ago you would've cried from embarrassment. How amusing."

That's when you felt it.

Your cunt was directly pressed to his stomach.

Exactly where his maw was located at.

He wasted no time, slithering the thick muscle from your thighs to your chasm, and into your folds. The dip was delicious, spreading your arousal all around as it began slipping inside of you.

Sukuna's actual mouth acted with thoughts, for he was the one controlling its actions.

His maw, however, acted on pure instinct. That's why on the day you fed him, it wasn't his actual mouth accepting your offer, but his maw, which knew what he had needed.

And it knew what you needed, now, because it was pumping inside of you like a real dick, stretching you out in ways that should hurt if it werent for the mixture of his spit and your liquid.

You moaned loudly, holding into the man as you squirmed. The canines of his maw brushed over your plush thighs, trying to savour your taste.

It was eating you.

Literally.

You gasped when you felt Sukuna's free hands groping your breasts harshly, running his thumbs over your hardened buds.

He pinched them.

And you cried out. Loudly, at that. It hurt, the overstimulation just adding to it as your breasts swelled.

And then he spat on them, meeting your druggen, almost passed out gaze with his grin.

His tongue, still pushing inside of you as if it were to devour you at any moment, was originally going to make you cum.. but..

"S-stop- 'kuna please! E- haah- enough!"

Said man stopped immediately, his tongue stilling inside of you, your walls pulsating around him.

"What is it, brat? You haven't even had your release yet. Don't tell me it's already too much."

You shook your head, blushing as your hands went around his head. He shot you a confused look before you leaned in to press your lips on his.

He was taken aback. A grunt left his lips as he accepted his fate, though he seemed to still, as if not knowing what to do.

But you giggled, actually giggled at him.

"Want you 'kuna. W-want you to feel good too,"

"Don't be silly. You will wither trying to take me."

"'n y-you'll just heal me then, no?"

"..."

He grunted, removing his tongue from you before placing you on the bed.

You looked so beautiful, spread out like a flower blooming. Your cunt was glistening, spread and messy from his tongue.

And yet, you had the audacity to feel shy at the moment.

Using your hands to cover what's his.

"Remove your hands at once, or I will not take any mercy on you, brat." He snarled, slowly pushing his pants down.

You obeyed.

And there he was.

There they were.

Standing at proud, over-human-sized inches, both of his cocks, glistening with leaking pre-cum.

He was right. You would wither trying to take him.

"Excited already?"

Oh, yeah.

How did you not notice the way you basically went on all fours within seconds, looking at his cocks as if they were treasures.

"S..so big—" your hands wrapped around his lower cock, experimentally giving a few pumps. The King, to all his glory, grunted, his eyebrows furrowed.

"So desperate, my dove. Tch."

Your mouth fell open as you went to take his upper dick, kitty licking over his tip, tasting his cum.

Fuck.

It didn't take long for you to wrap your mouth around his tip, pumping his other rock-hard, desperate cock.

And maybe, he was just as desperate— his hand wrapped around your neck, slowly inching his dick deeper into you.

You could cum on spot for what he said next;

"Good girl. F-fuck."

Not only did the big, bad King just do what you yearned for the whole time (praise you), but he also had stuttered (whimpered, really. But you'll take what you get).

You moaned around his large shaft, bobbing your head when you noticed you wouldn't be able to go any deeper. Tears were running down your cheeks, sobs escaping your full throat.

Your fingers engulfed him, your thumb rubbing his leaking tip while the other hand stroked his base, feeling the vein running underneath.

He was so perfect.

During your moment of bliss, you barely noticed his cussing, let alone his demands.

"G-get off— woman."

But you didn't.

You couldn't.

And he couldn't stop you, for the pleasure was way too great.

With that, he shot, not one, but two big loads onto you, one running inside of your throat and the other outside your throat, soaking your skin with white, sticky cum.

You were eager to swallow, and even more eager to continue, though your mouth was starting to get sore and tired.

"E-enough- for fuck's sake- off!" He groaned as he pulled you off forcefully, your mouth still connected to his dick by the mixture of cum and saliva.

Well fuck, if that wasn't a sight..

His dick remained hard, and you wondered how many releases he needed in order to soften.

"Real fuckin' minx. You think you can take both?"

You shook your head harshly, sobbing at the mere thought.

"Backing out? Already? How pathetic. I haven't even got the real chance to please you."

Without another word, he threw you on your back, gripping your legs and pressing them against your chest— literally folding you.

"'Kuna- Kuna haa!—" you cried out as you felt his tongue dive into your cunt again, his tip prodding the place right under your hole.

"Ca- can't take bo- ahh- both! Please!—"

He hummed, his tongue retreating.

"I suppose you can't, no."

"Huh?— Ah—!"

He entered you without another warning, without any time to adjust.

He was big.

He hurt.

But you did give him your promise that it'd be okay. And he said he'd heal you. So it should be okay if you could feel your walls clampering down on him, begging for a release and for him to stop his torture.

The pain easily mixed with the pleasure when he started thrusting into you, holding your legs with two of his arms, the other two keeping him steady above you. His other tip kept nudging your clit, making you cry out everytime your nerves got any kind of friction.

"Mhh. Such a glorious sight you are, my dove. So vulnerable.. can't even handle one cock, how are you ever supposed to take me?"

Ever?

You would've questioned it, if it weren't for the drool running down your lips, and the tears straining your cheeks. He chuckled, leaning down to you to lick away your tears and saliva.

His chest steadied your legs in position, and he used this as an advantage to run his hands all over your body.

You cried out when you felt multiple sharp teeth nibbling at your skin, some drawing blood, some sucking your skin.

He'd summoned mouths over his hands.

Moaning, you squirmed beneath him, his thrusts brutal enough to send you flying if it weren't for his grip.

"Ngh- ha- c-can't.. g'na cum-"

"Go on, little one. C-cum- fuck-" his breaths where heavy, and you could tell by his twitching cock inside of you that he was close aswell.

"Gonna f-fill you up, gonna fill you up so good— fuck- stop squeezing me like that, wo-hah- woman-!"

You came with a loud scream of his name, him following curtly after.

Hot, sticky cum filled your walls as he pulled out, his upper cock having spurt cum aswell. It coated your abdomen, up to your swollen breasts.

Shit.

"Haa- n-no! Enough-!" You yelped as you felt his fingers back in your hole.

He scoffed, "You're wasting my cum. Keep. It. In."

"Y-yeah as if I could do thaaa- holy shit!-" he filled you to the brim, knuckles deep inside of you, shoving every bit of his sticky substance into you.

"'Kunaaaaaa-"

"Fuck. Fine. I'll let this slip this time."

His hands hovered over the open wounds he'd caused, though he really rather looked smug. He healed you, fixing all what had to be fixed while hoisting you up into his arms.

"..this time?.."

He tilted his head.

"You didn't think this was a one time thing, did you?"

Oh but you did.

Whoops.

Blushing, you looked away.

"I- I don't want to be a concubine."

"..You're a fool to believe I'd consider you as such."

Silence.

Oh. Wait. That meant?..

"You know I'll still end those who hurt you, right?"

"Yeah."

He hummed, "Very well, I'll be on my way tomorrow. If you wish to follow, you are free to do so."

Silence.

"Sukuna?"

"Brat."

"Just.. spare the children and their parents, will you? They just—" you stopped, sighing as you nuzzled further into him, "—they.. he reminded me of you. You were like him too, once. I-.. it surprised me, that they didn't abandon him. I'd like him to do what we couldn't."

And what would that be? You and Sukuna basically could do anything. Were you saying he might've been uncapable of something? He killed all his life, he survived, he lived. What couldn't he possibly do?

"You must be mistaken, little one. We've done everything. We're capable of everything."

To his surprise, your voice came out weak. Weak like he'd never heard before. Not even when the people started chasing you with torches and knives, and spat mean words at you for your mere existence.

"...I'd like him to grow up loved."

"..."

...but Sukuna had loved you, hadn't he?

masterlist

“what would you do if i broke up with you?” // bf!ateez texts

a/n: hi yes hello, I’m working on a masterlist because I’ve posted more than I meant to without having one. Whether or not it will be done soon is the question 😁

warnings: swearing, a bomb threat because extreme threats that are insane considering what’s happening are so funny to me

Fanfic writer ask game

1. Favorite scene or line from (fic name)? 2. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of (fic name)? 3. Is there any trope/scene you've been wanting to write? 4. Would you ever consider writing ____? 5. Would you ever collab with another writer for a fic? 6. What character(s) do you find it most difficult to write? 7. Have you ever written anything based on personal experience? 8. Which fic or hc do you feel most proud of? 9. What scene in (fic name) took the longest to write? What was difficult about it? 10. If you wrote a sequel to (fic name), what would it be? 11. Post something from a current wip or concept 12. The funniest comment someone has left on a fic of yours? 13. Inspiration for (fic name)? 14. My favorite line from this fic was [xyz]. What inspired it? 15. Any changes that you've noticed in your writing since you started? 16. Favorite thing about (fic name)? 17. Free space-- ask anything 18. How'd you come up with the title for (fic name)?

smitten ✨

'The Forbidden Flame.' Masterlist Prince Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Synopsis: In a world where royalty are born and bred to sit upon a throne built by their ancestor's aeons ago, there is a prince who is destined to sit upon the throne but there is worry amongst those of the high council. Will this Prince ever be able to shake the shackles of his ancestorial rage and become a just and rightful King? Or will he simply be another spindle in the wheel that continues to crush those of lesser importance?

Warnings: Similiar setting to House of the Dragon (the era, how royalty works) but not entirely, dragons, eventual smut, deceit, violence, blood, all characters are over the ages of 18, mentions of different religions, misogynistic themes, character deaths. No beta readers, we die like kings. (Will update individual chapters with warnings also.) MDNI.

The Glossary

Chapter I: ['The Barbarous Prince'] [28/08/22] [5086 wc.]

Chapter II: ['The Summer Solstice'] [31/08/22] [6829 wc.]

Chapter III: ['Seeking Respite'] [04/09/22] [8181 wc.]

Chapter IV: ['Dance of the Dragon'] [TBD] [??]

Chapter V: ['The Crimson King'] [TBD] [??]

(More chapters will be added, if needed. Names/dates are subject to change before publication).

credit for the background image/banner: @vampyrsm please do not plagiarise, or recommend my work to places such as TikTok. Date format is DD/MM/YY, chapter releases are at 9:00pm BST on the specified date.

synopsis | in which every kiss was an answer

tags | fluff, drabble, royalty au, mentioned/implied arranged marriage, mention of the words "kill" and "war" but no killing involved and no descriptions of war

reader | gender neutral

notes | inspired heavily by (+ some dialogues taken from) a scene in the manhwa "saving my sweetheart" && for @yae-publishing-house's winter writing challenge

"But, Ayato, aren't you cold?" your breath materialized into a cloud in the air.

He shook his head no. He brought his hands to your waist and pulled you closer. You looked away from him; you didn't know what else to say. It was strange. Supposedly, he was just kind to you, undoubtedly so. He took care of his own people, fought bravely against those who needlessly opposed them. That was the Lord of Yashiro. He hated you, he hated the leader of the land you were from. He was forced into this marriage to protect his people; how could he love you, when you had the blood of those he hated most?

You'd looked away from him, but he'd kept his eyes locked on you. "I'd thought I'd made it painfully obvious," his other hand, strangely warm, took hold of your cheek. "Did the kiss from last night not suffice? Was my lips upon yours, which had never touched another's in such a way, not enough?"

It was hard to understand. He was simply inexplicable, as to why he loved you so. At first, when you'd asked him to kiss you the first time, it was so that you wouldn't be surprised when you did kiss with him when needed. The nobles' mouths ran too far all the time. They said he wouldn't love you. They said he'd kill you, bring reason to war.

"Do you really love me?" you looked up at him. His kindness may have been inexplicable if he didn't love you- but now, still even if he didn't, he'd at least have to try much harder to look like it.

"Yes," that was all that he had said in response.

"If you truly mean it, then kiss me as if you really love me. Then, I'll believe you."

It wasn't even seconds before his lips hit yours, his hand bringing you closer to him. There wasn't a thought as your arms went around him ever so naturally, and it was more than difficult to separate from the kiss.

"Would you be shocked if I kissed your hand?" No. You let him kiss you again, bringing you closer to him. Despite the rigid cold of the air, it was warm. You could feel his heartbeat, faster than you thought it could go in such a situation.

"What if I interlaced my fingers with yours and wrapped my arm around your waist?"

"You're already halfway there."

"What if I pulled you closer and kissed you once more?" he asked. There was no one there besides you and him.

"Try it," you said. Your warm breath and the cold air hit his skin, and in milliseconds, your lips connected once more.

If there was one thought Ayato wished he was able to voice that day, it would be:

You cannot begin to imagine the depths of my greed and how badly I want to touch you.