Cocojino

Welcome! Stay for a while! ˚.⋆°❀.ೃ࿔*⋆˚꩜｡

[coco-jino]

20, she/her, first time writing again in six years so bare with me :) MDNI!!!!!

Likes : going out with friends, a good x reader fan fic, food and music.

Dislikes : men

Feel free to request anything!! ⠀

𓂃 Coco۶ৎ

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[liahcharms]

she's my collar

God of the Dead was always alone. With the coldness weighing his heart and the stench of gastly doom clinging to his skin. But then, one day, the world under his feet shifted. Heart bloomed with bizarre fondness. And the Lord of the Underworld soon started to wish for nothing but to taste Spring Goddess's sweetness every single day. Even if he were to accomplish it by force.

requ ested (pray forgive me for waiting so long)

included in Tales, Myths, Romances

pairings: Hades!Trueform Sukuna x Persephone!Reader

content/warnings: greek mythology au, mythologically accurate, possessive behaviour, slightly dark romance, kidnapping, devotion, obsession, heavy smut, Sukuna is his own warning, proper use of belly mouth, double penetration, belly bulges, mating press, oral sex (both), facesitting, yearning, symbolism, Cerberus is just a baby, pussydrunk Sukuna, he's down bad, but he's also toxic

WC: 13.7k (the visions have plagued me)

a/n: I think we all know the story of Hades and Persephone, so this time there's no need for a history lesson! I just hope you'll like it because I had lots of fun writing it! And thank you, dearest anons, for the request <3

divider by @/diviniye art by @/phantomosis on x

It was a universal truth that opposites attract.

Knowledge older than the Gods themselves.

Carved in marble and rivers, bending under the Greek sun in crystal serpentine. Crossing the lands, fields and meadows, with single droplets caressed by nymphs and fair birdies playing in the calm waters.

Everyone knew that opposites work together. 

Everyone could look up and see the sun and the moon frolicking in the same sky. Brush their feet against the hard, stony paths covering the mountains, and yet see little snippets of flowers breaking through the surface. To experience sadness and joy, two contradictory feelings, yet impossible to exist without each other.

Everyone could enjoy the sharp breeze from the thunderstorms, preceded by the sizzling warmth coating their sweating skin. 

Everyone knew the night had no meaning without a day. That spring couldn't exist without a death.

Everyone knew it. 

Or did they?

Or was it maybe something that one, love-possessed God simply wished to believe in? That opposites could attract even in the most impossible-to-imagine scenarios. 

It's not that the Gods of Olympus weren't paired in a rather bizarre manner. For there was a beauty of Aphrodite who cherished the brute God of War dearly. Zeus and Hera, so different and yet ruling over the divine world. And also Dionysus, who haunted by love towards a mortal, made her a goddess.

And yet, Lord Hades couldn't shake off the feeling that his love was plagued by a tragedy from the very beginning.

As how could it be that the Lord of the Underworld's heart, after thousands of years of being burdened by coldness, suddenly bloomed with restless warmth?

With a feeling so unknown and strange, his hand rested on his chest as if in desire to breeze the burning skin up. Long fingers tried to grab the muscle and tear the rosy flesh that separated him from it. But even the God of Death couldn't stop the lovely beating of his heart and mind tormented solely by a thought of… you.

It happened on a sunny day, when, usually hidden in the depths of hell, the Lord of the Underworld decided to take a stroll. Around the spring meadows, with the air carrying the flowery scent of blooming nature. So strange and bizarre, never floating around the endless plains of his domain. 

He didn't show his face often up there, as God of the Dead was much, much busier than one could think! Humans were weak, reckless, dying like flies and flooding the Underworld with their restless souls. 

Heron crossed the Styx like a madman, and Cerberus couldn't close his eyes even for a second, as the hell was a mad and troubled place.

But then, that one day when the sunlight finally blessed his crimson eyes, Hades, or Sukuna as he much rather preferred, could finally pleasure himself in breathing the air not stained by a musty smell of death.

Each of his steps left the lush grass withered, and the air bent under the heaviness of his aura. Birds would fall silent whenever the God of the Dead passed through the trees they sat in, as if in fear of being taken by the Grim Reaper too soon. Fruits hanging off the branches would suddenly fall rotten, not allowing God to taste the sweetness of their pristine juices. 

As there was no sweetness or warmth in Sukuna's life and it had been a long time since he learned how to live with it. For why would anyone care about the wellness of the Lord of the Underworld himself?

And so the world withered and shattered around him, but God truly didn't mind. 

Until he saw you, the Goddess of Spring.

Beautiful, alive, with sun smooching your laughing cheeks and eyes curving under the golden rays. Little flowers were tucked in your hair sweetly, and single strands framed your face heartily. Sukuna enjoyed looking at blooming plants, although they quickly withered under his bloody gaze. 

But not you.

You quickly became his most dearest petal, with loose, light robes always in a riot of pastel hues and lovely laughter carried by spring winds through the vast meadows. Bare feet ran through the fields of flowers without any worries, and eyes always glanced somewhere over the horizon. Somewhere, towards the seas and trees and frolic nymphs playing near the rivers. Fingers weaved wreaths one by one, and a cooing voice helped the flowers grow and blossom beautifully. 

Your robes were always slightly dirty from the earth, warm cheeks marked by pollen, eyes bustling with warmth and kindness, that touched every plant, every animal that cuddled into your open arms.

He usually lurked among the trees. Tall, broody, with a massive body covered by dark robes and a grim aura clinging to his skin. Four arms crossed on a wide chest and two pairs of eyes fixated on a young Goddess frolicking with her friends.

Soon, he started coming more often. 

The usual workaholic, a gloomy God who liked nothing and no one, a brute, as some liked to call him, suddenly found something that started haunting his mind. His dreams and nightmares, as even there, you always seemed to smooch his cheeks like a soft petal.

There, you always seemed to be his.

 His lovely, dear wife. A Queen of the Underworld.

For all those days he watched you carefully, you've never noticed him.

Not even once, as if completely blinded to everything else outside the walls of your little world.

Until one day, you were left alone.

No friends chirping to your ear, no animals warming your legs – just you.

And, well, him. 

He didn't know when and how, but a warming tiredness fell on his eyes, and oh-so-mighty God of the Death slipped into a light slumber. With withered grass lulling his heavy body and birds ogling him from the thick branches. Wind whirred quietly, brushing his pink hair, slipping between the strands and massaging tired temples.

He could almost swear that he fell asleep on the grass. Hard ground moulding under his even harder body and green tuft giggling his cheeks. And yet, after turning and squirming like a restless child, he felt something softer under his head. 

Something plush, squishy, beaming with the sweetest, flowery fragrance he's ever smelled. The wind's murmur turned into a lovely hum. A melody that coiled his senses and flooded down his spine, filling his body like the sweetest wine.

He didn't dare to open his eyes. 

As he knew, the sight of the lovely Goddess brushing gently through his hair would lead to his death. For Sukuna was rather sure that the only thing in this world that could truly stop his heart was the graceful look of your eyes fixed on him.

Not on flowers, not nymphs, nor animals.

Him.

And thus he lay quietly, with your thighs dipping under his head and soft fingers playing with his hair. 

"The Lord of the Underworld in my spring domain," you hummed, swirling a pink strand around your finger. "What a bizarre sight, I must admit."

A chuckle slipped from between your lips when his brows furrowed. Slightly yet rather openly stating that the God of the Dead, with his colossal body bending your earth, has not, in fact, been sleeping. 

But there was no need to out his silly manner, and your fingers continued soft curls around his temples. As everyone, no matter their origin, was most welcome in your domain.

Something changed around him. The air, the melody, the structure of grass.

Your presence brought life back to the withered plants and silenced animals that feared him. The birds sitting high on the branches slowly flew down, huddling shyly on his chest. Decayed grass turned lush once again, smooching his skin with its plushness.

"There's no need for fear," you whispered warmly, seeing how wary the animals were of his presence. "He is a good creature too."

Forest animals started to come closer, and closer, and closer, with deer sniffing his body and frogs clumping on his shoulders. Their little, sticky toes left traces of gluey slime, but he didn't mind.

Because God of the Dead rarely felt a life embrace his body.

And thus he decided to cherish it and pray that this single, intimate moment would last forever. With your thighs beaming warmth under his head and animals cuddling to his limbs. Surrounding him in a tight circle with furs and feathers tickling his skin. 

He couldn't open his eyes, to not destroy the moment, although, heavens, he truly wished!

To see your hearty face up close. To brush the lower lip coloured with fresh berries and tuck a single strand of hair behind your ear. To see the way pastel robes clung to your skin like a mist, and eyes peeked down at him. But instead, he could only lie quietly and listen to the melody slipping past your lips, curling around his mind like a viper.

A moment has passed, and the deep slumber began to coo his senses. He tried to fight it, longing to stay in your embrace a little longer. To remember the melody of your voice and the pattern of fingertips massaging his temples. The flowery, honeyed fragrance clinging to your skin and filling every corner of his body, taking away his privilege to smell anything else for the next few days.

Before the darkness blanketed his mind and breath became shallower, he could hear the last whispers of your voice:

"Go to sleep, my God. Allow me to accompany you for a while."

When he woke up, you were no longer there. Just a withered grass bending under his body and the warmth of the setting sun bathing his hair in red hues. 

No sign of you or animals, and the God, once again, felt devastated. As if deprived of something he should hold onto with all his strength. He was a divine being, after all, and yet your misty figure slipped between his fingers like flowing water. 

But his mind recalled those few words. Allow me to accompany you.

And thus, Sukuna decided to take this wish too faithfully.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

"Stop going out there alone," your mother has sighed, looking at your figure swirling around the wooden hut. "It's dangerous, the Gods are unpredictable–"

Your head shook, lifting the little willow-wined basket used for gathering flowers. "I am a Goddess, mother," you chirped in with a giggle, before glancing at the woman's creased forehead. "And you are too. There's simply no need to fear anything. Besides, we're safe in the spring domain."

Liar.

You didn't tell her about the God of Death crossing the border between the Underworld and mortals much more often than he should. Than he used to. With his gloomy aura beaming off the woods, although he thought that you didn't notice it. Crimson eyes followed you every single day for the past few weeks, and whenever he appeared, one side of your domain suddenly went quiet. Withered, under his death-bringing feet and the silent atmosphere he spread around himself.

And as a Goddess of Spring, you knew of everything happening on your land. 

At the beginning, you thought it was rather funny. To see the animals and flowers frightened by his sole presence. You didn't give it much thought, as various Gods had strolled through the plains of your earth and chit-chatted whenever they spotted your figure hunched over the flowers.

But Lord of the Underworld wasn't the talkative type, nor did he engage in any closer relations. In fact, you didn't know much about him aside from what you'd managed to notice over the past weeks.

And you've noticed a lot. His body was built like a mountain, with a heaviness that couldn't be put into words. Two pairs of crimson eyes, lidded like sweet almonds and framed by rather long lashes. Pinkish hair reminding you of blushed peonies, and you wondered whether it would feel equally soft under your touch. Four muscular arms carried the little birdies up their trees when he thought you didn't see, and black stripes curled around his body – like deathly mist, tattooed all over his chest, back, and cheeks, as the God of the Dead didn't mind relaxing his beastly, naked body in the nearby rivers.

The water spilt over the grassy edge, and four arms rested on drenched earth. Crystal water looped his body shyly, smooching the sun-kissed skin with cold kisses. He couldn't see your hazy figure lurking in the bushes.

Your eyes glimmering like two fresh peaches and lips curling in a sly smile, upon seeing muscles upon muscles bending on the God's back. Slick and bulging, stripped of the heavy, dark robes he usually wore and enjoying the kisses of the Mediterranean sun.

Sometimes a nymph would notice him bathing at the river and coo shyly at the handsome but rather intimidating God. You've always observed those interactions from the tree, lurking curiously, with birds perched on your shoulders. All the encounters always ended in a rather pathetic failure, with the Lord of the Underworld ignoring the sweet chirps of little nymphs and their promises to warm his cold body. 

All of them flew quickly upon seeing a grave grimace twisting the God's face, and all four palms curling into fists. 

"Always so, so angry," you murmured to the red bird sitting on your finger, as it nodded its little head. 

And so you didn't tell your mother about these few encounters, for there was no need to worry her. She kept you away from the Olympian Gods as long as she could, yet couldn't stop you from becoming a Goddess too. Truly unfortunate, if she had to admit it, as she had tried for a whole life to keep you well hidden in the far, far corner of Mount Olympus, in your own little spring domain.

"Just be careful," your mother whispered, pushing back a few loose strands of your hair. A small basket hung on your back, and robes clung to your skin. "You know how Gods can be…"

You knew. For you heard of Apollo and Daphne. Of Medusa and a curse sent upon her for being a maiden far too beautiful. About Zeus and Callisto, and more, more Goddesses, who suffered a terrible fate from the hands of Gods themselves.

You understood your mother's worry. Why she tried to tie you up to this little hut hidden in the woods of Olympus. Why she was the Goddess of Agriculture and tried so, so hard to keep her dear spring flower hidden from the prying eyes.

And yet, the serpent flow of destiny was truly twisted and unpredictable. Bending under the Moirai's deathly whispers, with a thin thread slipping between their bony fingers like a river of silk. 

As many Goddesses before you, you too were soon to learn that playing with Gods – particularly those who seemed to take a special fondness for you – was a treacherous path. That approaching them cheekily, taking pleasure in keeping them in your arms and cooing like a wounded animal, was simply foolish. Mad, in every deep sense of the word, as out of the many Gods in this world, you particularly should not play like a fox with the Lord of the Underworld himself. 

So, on the same day, as golden rays dribbled down your figure hunched over flowers, hands picking the season's most beautiful blooms, the earth suddenly burst open. With a raw, brutal rumble, unleashing chaos across the peaceful meadow. Birds rose from the lush branches, and all the forest animals that were cuddling near your body ran off.   

The heavy dust had covered your eyes, smooching flimsy dress and delicate petals that bent under the heavy, little droplets of curled earth. 

The obsidian chariot harnessed with three black horses appeared right in front of your eyes. Tall and eerie, still carrying the coldness of the Underworld and a man whose crimson eyes stared down at your figure.

No words could slip past your lips as one muscular arm lifted you up and easily flipped you over the shoulder. Locking you in place with the sheer strength of one hand, until your head hung down the man's back.

"Wait!" Rolled in a scream as the world in front of your eyes started to spin. 

A voice you hadn't heard yet punched you like a bucket of cold water. "Don't be afraid, my Goddess," Sukuna said, before whistling to his horses. "You'll soon be able to run through the meadows of the Underworld."

It tasted raw, heavy, so, so low, licking your ears with flamed tongues. A voice truly worthy of the God of the Dead himself.

Before you knew it, the earth had swallowed the chariot once again. The rumbling tore through your spring domain, causing vast fields of flowers to vanish as if slowly devoured by the sky. The horses sped downward, pulling the chariot deeper into the earth, until only a faint glimpse of the familiar sun remained – a warmth you wouldn't see again for the next few months.

The darkness engulfed you, wrapping your skin with icy, deadly touches. It felt as though the three sisters had already severed your thread of fate, sending you to the Underworld sooner than anticipated and plunging you into the claws of the beast you inadvertently unleashed. 

"My God," you mumbled, trying to wriggle under his heavy arm. "Where are you taking me?"

Sukuna chuckled lowly, his whole body trembling with a laugh that made your spine tingle. "To home, my dearest Queen."

Deathly whispers curled around your body with curiosity, as if the air in the Underworld had tasted such a sweet life for the first time. Dark clouds filled the sky, and the chariot plunged even lower. Soon, a vast, grimy land spread beneath you, with a thick river curling around the dark soil.

You have never seen the Underworld and have never shown any interest in it. Yet, from that point, with the obsidian chariot soaring high in the sky, it looked mesmerising. Almost magical, with deep, dark forests and withered meadows stretching across the land, lit only by the pale blue light of the moon and little gleaming shadows wandering aimlessly across the plains.

It wasn't difficult to spot Hades's temple. Or maybe you should say a castle.

Sitting quietly on the cliff, with Styx's calm waters flowing beneath its heavy walls. It towered over the whole domain, glimmering in blue light under the moonlight's kisses, and something in your breath has hitched upon seeing an enormous garden filled with withered trees looming over the dead flowers. 

The air was biting cold, and yet the closer you were to the temple, the warmer it seemed to smooch your skin. It didn't carry the familiar flowery fragrance, but rather a heavy, woody scent, as if something alive still lingered in the bleak land filled with agony and doom. 

When the chariot came to a halt on the dark grass, Sukuna set you down gently. With one strong arm still stalling on your back, as if afraid the moment your feet touched the earth, you would try to escape. 

But there was no chance for it, as the Underworld was a trickery and a dangerous place.

"From now on, this is your home. My Queen," his crimson eyes never left your face, even when the hand showed towards the temple looming deathly.

You moved a step away, trying to slip from between the heavy fingers brushing your waist. "It is not my home, and I will not be your Queen. Now take me back to my domain."

Looking up was a mistake, for the gravity of his gaze almost pulled you down to earth. Four eyes stared down at your fuming face before one hand lifted and fingers traced the softness of your warm cheeks. "I cannot do it, my Goddess. That's what I decided, and that's what the Gods accepted."

"The Gods?"

His big thumb brushed your lower lip, and you smacked his hand away. A low chuckle slipped through before he pushed you towards the temple. "Zeus agreed, and that's all that matters. Neither you nor even your mother has any say in it."

You tried to move away again, but his strong arm only pulled you closer to his massive body. Twice your height, with four arms ready to manhandle you like a beast – you knew standing up to him would be foolish. And yet, you tried.

But he didn't mind, as you weighed less than a feather and lifting you was not a sweat for a God of his calibre. Your body once again rolled like a sack over his shoulder, but this time you tried to fight. With nails dragging down his back and teeth digging into the muscles bulging under his robes.

For you, it was a matter of life and death. 

For him? A flimsy, sweet teasing from his dearest Goddess, who was yet to accept her fate. 

Oh, his heart swelled with the purest joy at the sight of your misty figure wrapped in his arms after weeks of yearning. It didn't matter whether you wanted to stay here or not – Sukuna aimed to use every possible means to soothe your mind and pamper you like his precious wife.

"You ignorant brute, a beast, freak!" Rolled furiously, as you once again left the bloody, tooth marks on his back. "You cannot do it!"

Another throaty chuckle escaped from his side, with his arm cuddling around your waist with fondness. "I can, my Goddess. That's how love works."

"And what can you possibly know about love, my God?"

Sukuna didn't know much, but his greedy desire to always keep you in his sight and worship you as if you were the only Goddess in the pantheon must have been close to what love felt like. To get drunk on your laugh and the plush skin of your body every single evening, as if his whole world twisted around nothing but you. To hear your chipper run with stale wind through his decaying land and once again feel your fingers brush through his hair. 

The God of the Dead, the elder of the mightiest brothers, harbinger of death, wished for nothing but to taste the nectar of your love. 

But with a frown you looked at him, your teeth digging deeper into his skin – for now, it seemed rather fruitless.

He entered the temple and moved towards the massive stairway curling to the heavens themselves. Your furious shouts could be heard throughout the whole land, but it seemed that neither he nor the servant who suddenly appeared seemed to mind.

"Uraume, prepare a bath for the Queen," Sukuna said, glimpsing quickly towards the woman. Her white, short hair curled around her slim face, and deep eyes blinked in amusement at your sorry state.

"My Lord, I don't think the Queen likes this position," she muttered, sending you a pleading look.

Sukuna scoffed, correcting your body on his shoulder. "The Queen acts like a brat, so she will be treated like one"

Uraume nodded before going down the stairs and disappearing somewhere in the deep chambers of the temple.

Thus, it was the two of you again, and Sukuna moved slowly through the dark corridors, with blue flames licking your writhing body. He didn't mind the shouts, the nails scarring his back through the dusky robes till crimson droplets formed under the material and bites that your teeth have left on his shoulders.

In fact, the God of the Dead took a bizarre pleasure in feeling your flaming touch on his skin. Something in his chest swelled whenever your lips travelled to his neck, and it didn't really matter that they left the bloody bites and not the nectar kisses he yearned for.

At some point, you've finally entered the big chamber. The weird warmness crept through the tall windows, bending in heavy, marble arches. Vast plains of the Underworld rolled like waves on the horizon, and you stopped scratching Sukuna's back when the full land came in view.

Beautiful, endless, mesmerising, so different from what you grew up with. With only a pale, blue moon constantly shining upon the lost souls and deep, agonising cries coming from the Tartarus.

Sukuna finally put you down. "That's our chamber," rolled almost proudly, and you looked around the bedroom.

Dark, draped in misty veils, with a huge bed covered with crimson sheets and a baldachin moving together with gentle swooshes of wind. Warm flames have lit the place, with torches and long waxed candles glimmering shyly around the whole chamber.

Just behind the crimson curtain, you've heard the dripping of water and Uraume's hushed voice. So that must've been the bath.

"I will not be sleeping with you in one bed, my God," you barked, but Sukuna seemed not to care at all.

He pushed you towards the balcony, with a heavy hand placed on your lower back. "That's the garden. I made it for you," your chest squeezed. For you. "You can do anything you want with it, of course."

"It's impossible to grow life within your domain," slipped harshly, before your eyes looked up. Crimson moons stared down at you. All the time. "So you kidnapped me to grow you a garden?"

His sharp jaw tightened. "I did it for your own good," he muttered, hand lifting to brush away your hair. "For our good. I want you to be the Queen of the Underworld. My wife," fat thumb kissed you fuming cheek. "My Goddess."

And as much as you wished to stay angry, it felt impossible to hide the special fondness rising in your chest. A mix of hate and curiosity, as it was difficult to imagine why the Lord of the Underworld himself was such a desperate beast to lock you in his clutches.

Your eyes went back to the garden, taking in the withered earth and flowers bending in death.

But then you've noticed something – a tree. Dark, yet looking rather alive, blooming with red, round fruits that looked as if ready to burst.

Pomegranate.

And you, as the Goddess of Spring, knew why it seemed to be the only fruit growing deep within this deathly domain.

Sukuna followed your lidded eyes before a low hum filled the air. "You'll eat it at some point," seeing a sudden shock bathing your face and a slow shake of your head, he added. "Even if I have to force you."

Soon, you would discover that there were many, many other things the God of Death would force upon you, just to keep you within his touch.

And as surprising as it seemed, eating the pomegranate seeds to bind you eternally to the Underworld would be the last.

You didn't say anything, looking at the pomegranate tree with a grim expression ripping your lips. A Spring Goddess you were, and yet the single look of this rich fruit made you want to burn it right here and there.

"My Lord, my Queen, the bath was prepared," Uraume slipped in politely, before once again disappearing into the darkness.

Sukuna came inside, and you followed, passing under his heavy arm as he lifted the curtains between the chamber and bath.

Multiple candles licked dark walls, and the steam curled in the air. The big, marble pool filled with hot water called your name like a madman, and you were ready to tear your dress in half just to dip inside. The air in the Underworld was much, much colder than up in your domain, and after the eventful day, you truly wished for nothing but a simple bath.

And yet, even this was to be wrecked by Sukuna's four hands slipping the misty robes of your shoulders. Your trembling finger caught the dress in front of your chest before it could fall.

"My God, may I know what you are doing?" There was no trace of madness in your tone, only simple weariness and irritation.

His lips curled in a smirk, and if not for both hands gripping your dress, you would surely smack his cheek. You would try at least, as bending your head back to meet his gaze was already difficult enough.

His dark robes hit the floor before you've noticed it, exposing you to the view that – rather unfortunately – made your thighs clench. Massive thighs bulged under muscles, and it seemed clear that he could snap your neck with a single clamp.

But it wasn't the thighs that hit your cheeks with a maddened fever. No, rather two, fat cocks, with shafts so heavy they barely stood straight. Droplets of sticky pearls curled around two pulsing heads, sticking like a net to his pubes. The smooth, reddened skin glimmered under the dimmed flames, and your breath hitched while taking in the inhumane size.

And then your eyes followed up to his belly, mouth grinning mischievously, torso wide as mountains and four arms, just waiting to grab your flimsy body.

Sukuna was… terrifying. Alluring, feral, obscene, but oh so beautiful. With a body worthy of a God and an almost tyrannical aura that clung to him like a second skin. The mortals have feared him, Gods always tried to keep the relations as polite as possible, and yet you somehow found a wisp of fondness coiling in his gaze.

"I'm planning to bathe with my Queen, of course," Sukuna murmured, tilting his head with a cheeky grin. Four crimson eyes burned your skin, and you've never, ever felt as small and helpless as now. "Let me help you with it." Fingers tugged on your dress, trying to slip it down.

You took a step back, gripping the robe even tighter. "My God, I'm fine. But please enlighten me why we should take a bath together?"

He, however, was relentless, and it took a single, harsher tug to let your robes fall down the marble floor. A gasp slipped past your lips as you tried to cover yourself with pathetic moves.

Sukuna lifted your body with a single arm, and soon both of you sat on the little bench carved in a pool.

He took a deep, deep sigh, leaning against the edge. Two muscular arms kept you in place, with your back plastered to his chest and ass brushing against the massive cocks, while the other two started to soap you up.

A shiver ran down your spine, feeling big, yet soft hands smooching your skin in gentle circles. Slowly, tenderly, massaging your shoulders and back, going down, and down, to the swell of your wet breasts.

A quiet, shy moan escaped your feverish cheeks when his thumbs brushed the perked nipples. You wriggled under his touch, as if fighting against itself to give into the warmness beaming from his body and heavy fingers washing your tired skin.

Your hips jerked again when he pinched your nipples, sending a sudden, electrifying wave down your spine.

"My Queen, try to keep yourself in place," he said with a low voice, and only then did you notice that your ass had been bumping against his cocks for this whole time.

You didn't look back, as if in fear that even a single glance could pique Sukuna's curiosity and test the dangerous waters of your patience. "Is it necessary, my God? I can wash myself."

Two hands gripped your hips, quickly turning you towards him.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as he sat you right on his muscular thighs. The water spilt over the pool's marble edge, and crimson eyes stayed fixed on your face. On your slightly parted lips and hair sticking to your cheeks.

His upper arms slipped up to your waist, while the lower ones started to massage your thighs. In slow, gentle circles, dangerously close to the naked pussy that bounced against the fatness of his shafts.

He played a dangerous, oh so dangerous game, but took a maddened satisfaction in observing the changing looks on your face. Anger mixed with delight, as if you wanted to hit him and nuzzle into his touch at the same time.

"What's wrong, my Queen?" he muttered, soaping up your waist. "Why would you wash yourself alone if your husband is here?"

At this point, both of you knew that the bath was a mere, foolish excuse for the Lord of the Underworld to finally enjoy the sight of your naked body. To take a pleasure in feeling your naked skin against his and test his own patience, feeling the warmth of your cunt brushing against his cocks.

His moves were deprived of any sexual manner, and yet your insides burned with the most wicked flame. Your drenched fold were bumping against his cocks, yes, and the fat shaft brushed against your clit, maybe, but even then, he didn't try to push you.

To force himself on you, as if waiting for your consent.

As if he wished you craved him as much as he did you.

But even then, every few seconds, he would move closer. His fingers would brush your trembling nipples, hips move beneath yours, and he would always take in your muffled moans with a sly smile.

"You're not m-my husband," rolled embarrassingly weak, and Sukuna hummed, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.

"Not yet. I'll give you time to make yourself at home," thick digit slipped inside your mouth, and you quickly bite it. Hard, feeling his bones crack under your teeth, although he only smiled. Like a man possessed. "As I was saying, I'll give you a month–"

"And what then?" you mumbled, with lips still curled around his thumb. "What if you won't tame me after a month?"

Pink strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead, and you needed to dig your nails into his chest, not to lift the fingers and brush them away. Four crimson eyes – two big, lidded in slyness and two smaller, curved like a moon – drank in the sight of a sweet little Goddess squirming on his massive body.

"Then I'll force you to love me," spilled calmly, without hesitation. And maddening yearning in his eyes told you that he was ready to do it. That his understanding of love was far from the sweetness and kindness you've known of.

His fingers travelled up, through the breasts, collarbones, and neck, till the second hand joined your face. He cupped your cheeks gently yet lined with restrained violence.

Possessiveness, madness, that filled his flamed eyes.

"Don't test my patience, my Goddess," he murmured softly, pulling your face closer. His lips nearly brushed against yours, and a wave of warmth washed over your body. "Let me love you in my own way, and I promise to make you happy. Within my domain, you can be as free as you desire."

It was difficult not to have your heart flutter upon hearing those words.

He knew how crazy your mother was about you. That you spent most of your life chained to her leg, never leaving the spring domain, never feeling the winds of freedom.

That's why his promise sounded so exhilarating. Wild, absolutely insane, and yet letting you let out a deep sigh. Because finally, after so many years, you were alone.

Without your mother, without the prying eyes of Gods, without the same meadows caging around you like a prison.

Only with a much, much bigger, heavier, and mind-spilling problem, of a God of the Dead who seemed to take a special, wicked interest in you.

Your hands, still trembling on his chest, pushed yourself away. Hips slipped from his cocks, but not before giving two, feverish heads one last brush. As if you wanted to push him over the edge.

He groaned and squinted his eyes. "Where are you going, my Goddess? We're not done yet."

Four hands shoot towards you, fingers trying to catch your slippery body. It curled at the end of his fingertips, teasing him mischievously with full breasts dripping with crystal droplets and soft skin glimmering under the gentle flame of candles.

His cocks moved, eyes tried to take the wholeness of your divine beauty, and yet, after weeks of watching you every single day, he still couldn't believe that a woman of your sort truly walked this earth.

"I am done with you…" your eyes curved cheekily as you slowly moved back. "My God. I agree to a monthly trial–"

"It's not a trial, you'll be staying here forever."

Your back hit the pool's edge, but Sukuna didn't move. Instead, he observed you. Like a predator, preparing for a deadly attack.

"As I said, I do agree. But if you won't manage to persuade me to stay," slipped in a whisper, and you smiled even wider, seeing a furrow creasing his forehead. "I will simply kill myself. Just like Daphne did."

His heart nearly stopped, crimson eyes bloodshot. Before you could escape the pool, two arms yanked you back, pressing your chest against his. He lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. Finger gently squeezed your face with a slight pinch, until salty fog blurred your sight.

"My God–" you barely muffled.

"Don't ever," he growled, gripping your cheeks harsher. "Ever say that in front of me again. I will break your legs if I have to. I will tie you up to bed if you force me to," something warm spilt from his belly, and just then, you remembered about his mouth. Heavy tongue took a long, fat drag of your wet cunt, and you cried within his brutal embrace. "You are mine. Every dream of yours, every part of your body, every single laugh, all of it belongs to me."

His grip on your cheeks was too strong to let you shake your head, but light enough to allow another moan to spill from your throat. In sweetness and pain, feeling the teeth of his belly mouth pinch your clit.

"My God–"

"Do you understand me?"

"I-I–ahh," a cry filled the foggy bath, feeling his tongue slurp on your wetness. It felt heavy, girthy, tasting you with a maddened pleasure as if feasting on the honeyed juices dripping down the water.

"Do you understand?" he gritted through his teeth, loosening up his grip on your cheeks. "I don't like to repeat myself."

With another sweet mewl, your head lulled to one side in a nod, and he finally released you from his clutches. You stood right in front of him – wet, trembling, with slippery thighs and cunt already missing the swirling of his tongue on your clit.

His thumb followed down to his belly, gathering traces of your cum. A second later, thick digit found its way to your lips, pushing the stickiness right onto your tongue.

It tasted sweet, almost milky-like, clinging to the muscle like a spider's web while his thumb smeared it all over your insides.

"Tastes delicious, hm? That's what you're keeping away from me," Sukuna groaned, drinking in the sight of your teary face. "I am not a patient man, my Goddess, but my heart belongs to you, and I wish to treat you the best I can," he lifted up your face, creaming your cheeks with the rest of the cum. "But I do warn you, dearest. When the month passes, I won't be holding myself anymore. So you'd better accept this fate and just let me love you."

You didn't nod, didn't even blink. Just observed his devilishly handsome face with teary, wrecked eyes beaming with fury.

You tried to snap back, but his thumb pushed harder on your tongue. "Uraume," he called, looking somewhere over your shoulder. "Take the Queen back to our chamber. I think she's a bit tired."

Light, white robes curled around your shoulder, before Uraume gently pulled you away from Sukuna's clutches. "My Queen, allow me to–"

You shook off her hand, wiping the rest of your cum from your cheek. "Thank you, I know how to tuck myself to sleep."

And so you left your future husband alone, with rage and ecstasy still mixing beneath your chest.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

The next few weeks passed with silence and tension binding the Goddess of Spring and the God of the Dead like a thin thread of fate. Only the three sisters were able to cut it swiftly and release you from the torment, and yet no one ever came to save the poor petal.

The first few days you spent mostly in the garden, lying under the pomegranate tree and observing the darkness blanketing the sky. The withered plains of the Underworld have never been touched by sunlight, and the lack of it started to bother you too.

There was no way to tell day from night, as the air was always slightly cold and the sky never turned any colour other than dark blue. Sometimes a sudden fog has risen over the horizon, curling above the parched trees.

The agonising screams from Tartarus could be heard over from your balcony, although after complaining to Sukuna about your lack of sleep, they somehow quieted down. You didn't pry into his methods, nor did you need to exactly know how he accomplished it.

It was difficult to grow anything in the garden, and after days of trying, you finally gave up. Well, not entirely, for you spent more and more days trying to think of a plant that would not need sun nor much water to bloom and if Sukuna could let you out even for a few days, surely you could find something.

He, however, was fully relentless at your begging as there was nothing binding you to the Underworld. Yet.

Fresh pomegranates whispered sweet sins to your ears as you looked at the round fruits bursting with crimson seeds. You wondered what they tasted like. How pristine their juices were.

Sometimes your finger would trace their hard skin with delicacy and quickly pull away, feeling Sukuna's heavy gaze drilling the hole in the back of your skull.

He seemed to always have you in his sight. It didn't really matter whether you strolled around the garden or went deeper into his domain – he was always there. Somewhere, lurking at your misty figure, the only colourful thing in his vast world, even if you didn't see him.

For the first few days, you didn't talk at all. And he was oh so angry with your nasty mood swings, even though it seemed he truly tried to be on his best behaviour.

For a while, you even refused to sleep in the same bed. He would wake up in the middle of the night only to find you cuddled into Cerberus's massive, soft body, snoring like a little baby and nuzzled under his heavy neck.

The beastly dog quickly became your favourite creature in the whole domain, and Sukuna couldn't count the times when you strolled with it through the dark plains and meadows, giggling sweetly whenever it rolled in withered grass.

It seemed the beast was particularly fond of and protective of you, so that even the God of Death himself could not approach you without the beast's shiny, sharp teeth growling his way. Crimson eyes observed him carefully, as if ready to rip his heart out if his lone finger brushed your silky skin.

And whenever Sukuna reminded you that Cerberus also had his role in the Underworld, the loveliest pout would twist your lips, and a dog's low growl would slash through the air.

And because Sukuna was softhearted only for you, he didn't have another choice but to allow you to adopt Cerberus as your own, exclusive pet.

But he absolutely couldn't stand waking up to the coldness wrapping around his body, and thus, for the first few days, in the middle of the night, he would travel all the way to Cerberus's cave only to take his Goddess back.

"Where is she?" the God would growl, with all four arms folded on his chest and eyes lidded with sleep. "Give her back, she'll come back to you in the morning anyway."

And the dog would usually ignore him, with three massive heads pretending to be plagued by a heavy slumber. Sukuna would sigh and slip a soft plea, trying to resonate with a beast he raised himself.

Three pairs of bloodshot eyes would glare at him deathly, but after a few quite embarrassing and yet desperate pleadings, the dog would lift his head up, only to reveal your peacefully slipping body. Curled against his fluffy neck, with fingers gripping the soft fur and shallow, peaceful breaths coming from your parted drooling lips.

Sukuna would lift you up with utmost care and bring you back to your chamber, wrapping himself around your body with all six limbs.

When the "morning" came, he was always the first one to slip from the bed. But not before getting himself untangled from your body. Lying serenely on his broad chest, with a drool pooling right above his heart and soft strands of your hair tickling his chin.

It was his most favourite sight during that month, and the only chance to see your face without a pout or crease forming on your lovely forehead. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get close to you as much as he wished to.

But at least, after the few weeks of constantly going back and forth between your chamber and Cerberus's cave, you finally stopped escaping from his clutches and slept in his embrace for a whole night.

Moreover, during those weeks spent in each other's presence, you seemed to enjoy nothing more than pissing the God of the Dead off.

During one eventful night that both he and Uraume would recall in the future with a painful headache, you sat quietly at the long table. The wooden furniture bent under the heavy supper, with meats, fruits and vegetables prepared in feast portions.

Sukuna loved to see your cheeks stuffed full, and sometimes you would even joke that he tried to fatten you up only to eat you for dessert. He chuckled lowly, every time answering that if only you spread those thighs nicely, my Goddess, I would gladly eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

An embarrassed, nasty slip from your lips, as you tried to ignore the warmth blooming in your lower belly.

One evening, however, Uraume interrupted your supper with a heavy panting and trembling gaze.

"My Lord, my Queen," she said, taking a few deep breaths. "Forgive me for the intrusion, but something deeply concerning has occurred."

"What is it?" Sukuna mumbled, not even looking her way. Instead, he poured you another cup of wine, while you tried to hide your flushed cheeks behind a curtain of hair.

Oh, you were so, so fucked.

"All the souls lingering on the river's banks have entered the Underworld."

Sukuna suddenly stopped and put the jug of wine back on the table with a loud thud. "What?!"

Both you and Uraume shrugged.

"Charon took them all," she said, glimpsing your way.

You, however, looked down at your plate, as if trying to completely erase yourself from this conversation.

"All of them were buried with a coin? How is it possible?" Sukuna growled.

Uraume took a deep sigh, with deep, sorry eyes still lingering on your hunched figure. "He said that…" She hesitated, biting down on her lower lip. "The Queen ordered to let them in."

Fuck.

The air suddenly stilled, and a moment passed before Sukuna's crimson, angry eyes looked your way. But it's not like you could see the rage blazing in his gaze, as you still carefully observed the fresh fig lying on your plate.

The fact that he somehow got delivered all your favourite, fresh fruits down to the Underworld was truly–

"Do you want to tell me something, my Queen?" he asked with utmost politeness, although you sensed the displeasure bubbling in his throat.

"No, not really," you murmured, playing with a juicy fruit.

He took a deep sigh, curling all four of his hands into fists. A soft vein popped on his forehead as he truly, really tried to keep himself calm.

"I will ask you again," slipped softly, before his two hands pulled your chair closer to him. Your thighs brushed against each other, and his fingers lifted your chin up. Till you were forced to meet his heavy, bloody gaze. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?

Oh, lying to him like that was much, much harder.

"Listen," you started, and he already sighed. "I don't see any problem with it. Why would you keep them there if Charon can just take them all to the Underworld? Isn't that the whole point of your domain?"

His fingers tightened on your chin because, dear-fucking-heavens, he really struggled to hold it together. Four bloodshot eyes looked down at your pouty lips and doe eyes, as if your pure loveliness could melt his anger.

Well, it usually could.

"They cannot enter Hades if they do not get buried with a coin. That's the rule all of them must obey," rolled harshly, and your pout became even sweeter. Fuck. "How did you even force Charon to do it? This old man is stubborn as hell."

You nestled into his palm, attempting to ease his heart with a gentle, pleading look. "It turns out most of the creatures here are quite afraid of Cerberus," you giggled, even though Sukuna was clearly unhappy. "Um, and they’re also afraid of you. The threat of reporting to the Lord of the Underworld himself tends to work quite effectively."

Sukuna pulled away with a heavy groan and started massaging his temples. One side of him was rather happy that, after weeks of fighting, you decided to use both your title and him to get what you wanted. But the other wanted to curl his fingers around your neck and snap it clean, for the mess you have caused with your need to piss him off.

He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. "Why did you do it?"

"They looked sad."

His crimson gaze once again snapped to your face. "Sad? The souls?"

You nodded. "Well, all of them wanted to enter Hades so–"

"My Goddess, you can't do such a thing!" Uraume cried, looking out the tall window as if all those souls were travelling up Hades' temple.

"Why? I thought I was the Queen of the Underworld." A cheeky smile curved your lips, and Sukuna almost lost it. "I can do whatever I want. Your own words, my God."

Well, he did tell you that from now on, this domain was under both his and your control, but his mind ran far too short to predict that you, in fact, wouldn't know the most basic rules of this land.

And thus, he could only swallow his rage and look back at Uraume. "Catch them all and bring them back to the shore. Also, tell Charon that from now on he's forbidden from listening to the Queen's orders."

You scoffed, crossing arms on your chest. "I'm just going to set Cerberus on him."

"Right," Sukuna growled, sending you a short, angry look. "And also chain the dog to his cave. This beast has forgotten who his real master is."

You could forgive him mistreating the poor souls and Charon, but a line had to be drawn regarding your beloved dog.

Your fingers grabbed his forearm, eyes bulging in worry. "Wait! Leave Cerberus out of this," Sukuna looked at your nails digging into his skin and a jittery gaze. "I'm sorry, okay? Just…" There was a thread linking you both – dangerously thin, leading to an emotion your relationship hasn't yet discovered. Forgiveness. "Please don't hurt him. It's my fault. Cerberus listens to everything I say, he's just a silly dog. So let him be. If there's someone who should be punished, it's me."

Sukuna didn't say anything for a while, staring at your pleading eyes with a furrowed brow. A storm of feelings coiled in his head, and you noticed his gaze soften slightly. He often acted like a brute, of course, but you believed that somewhere, deep, deep beneath his chest, there was still a man who placed the little birds that had fallen from the trees back in their nests.

"Fine," he finally muttered and oh, how shocked he was when you chuckled and wrapped yourself around his neck. For a moment, he sat frozen in place, but soon all four arms curled around you, as he inhaled the sweetness coating your skin.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Uraume looked away to hide a little smile tugging on her lips, as it was a long, long time since she had seen the God of the Dead blushing like a virgin nymph.

Sukuna coughed, sending her a deadly gaze. "But I still believe that you and Cerberus could use some time away from each other. I'm tired of raising two brats at the same time," he mumbled, and you giggled into his neck.

"Well, my God, try to suggest it to him, and we'll see what happens," you pulled away, with hands still wrapped around his neck. "I'm afraid your beast found himself a new owner."

And so, since that evening, a little, hopeful grain started to bloom in Sukuna's heart.

As it seemed that his lovely Goddess had finally begun to warm to him. During the evening baths, you chirped into his ear like a fair birdie, sometimes even washing his muscular back and massaging his always-creased forehead.

At night, your body instinctively nuzzled into his. Legs wrapped around him tightly, hands curled around his arms, and a slightly wet cheek left a small puddle of saliva on his chest. He always beamed with warmth, and you, like a cat, used his body as a heater.

During the shared breakfast, you kept talking while he fed you the sweetest, juiciest fruits. What's more, your roles would shift, with your fingers occasionally placing a piece of orange onto his lips – sometimes upper, sometimes lower.

Whenever you stole a few apples for Cerberus, as he's tired of eating raw meat, he would only scoff and wave his hand. The beast has been living on meat and water for thousands of years, and yet, a few weeks after your appearance, he suddenly developed a lavish taste for fruits picked only by you.

On some afternoons, when Sukuna would nap under the pomegranate tree, you would creep to his side. Carefully place his head on your thighs and hum a lovely melody, just like you did back then in a forest. He would always try to stay as still as possible, just to prolong those precious moments – your fingers brushing through his hair and flowery fragrance coating his skin.

One special afternoon, your hum was interrupted by something else.

Something… alive.

The high trilling of crickets, soft chirping of birds and muffled croaks of the frogs, coming from the little pond Sukuna has built up for you.

Your fingers suddenly stopped in their tracks, and the God coughed quietly, wriggling under your touch. Like a dog, begging for more pats.

"How is it possible?" you asked, looking down at his "sleeping" face.

There was a minute of silence before he slowly, carefully opened his eyes and sighed heavily, meeting your solemn gaze. "The animals also need to enter Hades. Just on different rules," His eyes fell on something crawling up your hand. "Look there."

And to your surprise, you've noticed a grasshopper sitting serenely on your skin. It wasn't as lush and green as you remembered it to be, but misty, almost like a cloud, with only his foggy soul still crawling up your arm.

And then you've noticed birds sitting high up on the pomegranate tree, with their little wings looking like a shadow.

Something heavy formed in your throat and heart stirred with affection. "You brought them for me?"

Sukuna hummed, closing his eyes and gently placing your hand back on his head. "You can say that. Most of them were already here. I simply ordered to be bring them to our garden."

Your fingers started working through his hair again – scratching and massaging his head, till the beastly God stretched on your thighs like a cat and nuzzled into the softness of your belly.

You didn't push him away but rather giggled and whispered a sweet thank you. A little smile tugged on Sukuna's lips, and he purred softly my pleasure, Goddess.

And thus, for the first time in your life, you have felt free.

With Underworld's woeful air smooching your cheeks and shadowy animals following you around the withered plains.

You have never felt more alive than in the realm of the dead.

That's why when Sukuna called you into the main hall one day, your heart froze. With dread and fear, upon seeing your furious mother standing right next to him by the altar.

The altar, decorated with your small marble figures and fresh flowers, he ordered to be changed daily since no plant in the Underworld could survive longer than a day.

Your fingers curled in fists, lips fell in line, and somehow, even though you loved her dearly, you simply couldn't take a step closer.

Sukuna stood still, with four arms crossed on his chest and eyes looking carefully at your trembling body. As if he could read all the thoughts coiling beneath your furrowed brows.

"My darling, oh Gods," she sighed, crossing the distance between you two in a few steps. Before you knew it, she pulled you into a hug, although your arms hung loosely by your sides. "I thought I'd lost you forever. Can you believe that I needed to threaten Zeus himself to finally find you?"

She pulled away and grabbed your cheeks, only to meticulously ogle your face. "Oh my, you're so pale! This place did you no good, but at least you're fine. This brute…" she looked over her shoulder, glancing at Sukuna's stony face. "My heart almost stopped upon hearing that he was the one who kidnapped you. Did he touch you? Are you okay? Did he, you know, force you to–"

"Mom," you quickly interrupted her and wriggled yourself out of her embrace. "Why are you here?"

She looked dumbfounded – with warm eyes bulging in shock and lips slightly falling open. When you stepped back, her forehead creased.

"I came to take you back, of course."

A gentle sigh echoed through the vast temple hall as you glanced over her shoulder. Somewhere nearby, a man was attentively listening to you, with a heart pounding loudly in his throat. Filled with fear, anticipation, hope.

Sukuna rarely looked at you with that gaze – filled with love and dread, as if he understood that neither anyone else nor he himself was truly worthy of your heart. He scarcely ever seemed so weak and afraid, as if his mind, soul, heart were fully, completely wrapped around your finger.

And thus now, after so many of his threats, you could make a choice.

To stay here, with him, or go back to your mother.

"Let's go, darling, I'm getting nauseous just from being here," she tried to grab your hand, but, once again, you stepped away.

"I'm not going back," slipped in a whisper. "I can't go back."

She looked shocked, and her lips curved in a nervous smile. "What do you mean, you can't?"

"I'm bound to the Underworld."

Lie.

But oh, how good it felt in your heart, lifting the weight of all the mixed emotions you've buried over the past few days.

"Bound? What do you–" she started, and then, as if suddenly enlightened, gasped. A sharp cry escaped her throat, and her eyes looked back at Sukuna with a frightened, intense gaze. "You! You forced her to eat the seeds!"

Before she could step closer and smack his cheek with an open palm, you grabbed her. "No, mom. I did it myself."

She stopped, turning back your way. With disappointment filling her eyes and trembling lips. "You did what?"

"I love him."

And that, well, that was a confession no one expected. Not you, mother, and particularly not Sukuna. His breath hitched, eyes bulged, and he almost, almost took a step closer.

As his heart, mind, and soul were consumed by a desire to hold you and caress you yearningly until your lips swell from the sweetness of the kiss.

Your mother quickly interrupted, holding your cheeks. "You don't. Don't say it. You don't love him. He's a beast who manipulated your mind, love has no place here. Don't act foolishly, that's not how I raised you."

Your heart shuddered in wretchedness upon her words. As you knew how much she hated all the Gods. How hard she tried to keep this sweet, yet so foreign feeling away from you, as if the little seed growing in your heart was something shameful.

Crystal droplets trickled down your cheeks, wetting her pads. "But I do, mother. And I will stay here, with him. That's my home now."

There was no need to listen to her further. Sliding her trembling hands from your cheeks, you turned and quickly disappeared into the comforting darkness of a temple you used to hate that much.

Her low pleadings filled the main hall, but you could only ignore them. Seeing her again, after a whole month, brought dreadful memories of years spent in her golden cage.

You entered the chamber and sat down on a plush bed. Your hands still slightly wet from nervousness, eyes taking in the cosiness and warmth of the bedroom you shared with… him. Candles licked your skin sweetly, and moon lurked through misty curtains.

Even the usual shrieks coming from Tartarus were mild that evening, allowing you to enjoy the little crickets slipping from the garden.

Cerberus barked somewhere deep within your domain, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You were on your way to give him his daily dose of apples when your mother suddenly appeared.

You sat on a bed, hunched and frozen, not noticing a massive shadow that swooshed closer. Dark robes appeared in front of your feet, and soon a heavy, musky fragrance followed.

"My Queen," Sukuna started, not quite sure what to say. A silence has fallen – pleasant, warm, homey. He sighed and crouched to meet your gaze. "Are you okay?"

Only then did he notice crystal droplets still dripping down your cheeks. "My Goddess, why are you crying?"

"Don't allow her to take me," slipped in a crying whisper, before a muffled choke followed. His big hands gripped yours, trying to stop the trembling. "Please, let me stay here."

His fingers lifted to gently cup your face. "What are you talking about? Of course, I won't let you go," crimson eyes softened as a large thumb brushed your lower lip. "Have you forgotten my words? You're never leaving my side."

"Never?"

He shook his head. "Never. I will stand against all of Olympus if that's the price of loving you."

Another sharp cry rolled from your lips as you nuzzled into his hand.

He changed your positions, sitting on the bed and letting you climb onto his thighs, only to push your crying face into his neck. Four hands embraced you before he began to cradle you like a baby.

With soft whispers and kisses placed on your forehead.

When the first shock rolled away and the tears finally stopped, you pulled back. With swollen lips and puffy cheeks, that made Sukuna's heart swell with fondness.

His tongue lapped up the last salty droplets before big palms cupped your hips. "You'll stay here, with me," plush lips peppered your cheeks, nose, and the slightly trembling chin. "And you'll let me love and worship you as you deserve," his hands rolled your hips against his, drawing a moan from your throat. "No one will take you away from me. Not now, not ever."

Your arms wrapped around his neck, back bent in a delicate arch. You looked at him with a plea, taking in the divine beauty of his beastly face. "What if Zeus himself comes for me?"

His lips were barely brushing against yours, and a woody, heavy smell of his body tickled your heart. "I'll kill him. My Goddess, you truly underestimate me. I will move heaven and earth to keep you by my side."

And then, with a last longing gaze connecting your starving souls, your lips have finally crashed.

In a slow, gentle, yet raw kiss, with his teeth biting down on your lower lip and throat swallowing all your sugary moans.

All four hands quickly found their way around your body – caressing, holding, gripping the swell of your ass and moving your hips in harsher rolls.

Misty robe hanging on your shoulders slipped down with a gentle tug, and soon his two upper hands lifted to cup your breasts.

The softness of your skin made Sukuna's mind spin, and a craving to sink himself into your warm cunt felt almost maddening. His cocks, still clothed by a dark tunic, brushed against your folds and the sweetest, purest moan rolled right into his lips.

"Feed me, my God," you murmured, pulling away slightly. "Feed me the pomegranate seeds and tie me to the Underworld. To you."

Of course, you lied to your mother.

And Sukuna knew it too. He observed you for a whole day and night, never leaving your giggles out of his sight, and thus he was aware of your little, desperate lie.

What he hoped for, however, was that your confession was sincere.

Tasting the sweetness of your lips, he realised how truly doomed he was – completely entangled with the scent of your skin and the beauty of your eyes. His heart skipped a beat when your fingers pulled his pink hair, causing his hips to buck instinctively, seeking the intense pleasure.

You pushed his chest, forcing his massive body to lie down on the mattress. "Feed me, and I shall let you have a taste too."

Your lips met his cheeks, jaw, and dropped down through the bulging throat and collarbones, while fingers slipped from the dark robes. He wore nothing beneath the long tunic, and soon your lips curled around his nipple, biting it softly with a hum.

Two upper arms swiftly pulled you up to his face, while the lower ones still held your bare hips. "What will you let me taste, my Goddess?"

A cheeky smirk tugged on your lips as you placed your leaking cunt right over his open belly mouth. "Your favourite fruit, my God."

With a loud moan, you lowered down onto its tongue, feeling the heavy muscles giving you a long, nasty lick. A shudder washed over your spine, and Sukuna drank the next cry that escaped your throat.

"You taste even better than I remembered, my Goddess," he groaned, feeling the saccharine droplets coat his lower tongue. Sticking to his teeth and inner cheeks like the sweetest honey. "But I have a much better idea."

And with that, you quickly found yourself facing his massive cocks and hovering over his face. Your puffy, drenched folds hang right above his lips, and he looked at your dripping cunt with a low groan.

"Fuck, my Goddess," two fingers parted your folds, only for a small, sticky droplet to drip down his chin. "You smell so fucking good, lower yourself a bit."

He didn't wait for your answer as two big hands pulled your hips down with a single, strong move. A groan slipped past his lips and went straight to your cunt, sending a wave of trembling pleasure straight to your clit.

"That's right, my sweet fucking Goddess," he mumbled, lips curving under the weight of your hips. "Don't be shy, get yourself comfortable."

"I-I'm not shy," and if not for a heat that slapped your cheeks, he maybe would believe you.

But your body was too honest, too inexperienced to hide the way your hips rolled against his tongue. Another pitched moan filled the foggy air when his tongue slipped inside your tight cunt.

His lower hands landed on your back and slowly, slowly bent you down. Till your wet lips met with two, pulsing heads and breasts hang right over the belly mouth.

Oh, he was right, this position was absolutely killing… both of you.

Because the moment big, beastly lips curled around your nipple, your hips buckled, and a sweet moan tickled both leaking heads.

"Nghhh," bounced sweetly off his veiny shafts. "That's–mhmm, my God, feels so good."

Sukuna chuckled, slurping on your swollen clit and pushing another cry from your chest. "Give them a little lick, my Queen. They've been waiting for you whole fucking month."

With a hazy gaze, you glanced at two fat cocks smooching your cheeks. Wet and massive, with droplets of musky precum oozing down the pulsing skin and a strong fragrance making you even wetter. He smelled so heavy, manly, and the moment you gave the first cock a kitty lick, Sukuna groaned straight into your clit.

Your hand grabbed the other one and started pumping it in slow, gentle moves, with your thumb brushing the reddened head. Belly mouth sucked on your breasts as if waiting for something more creamy to release itself onto his ravaging tongue, and you cried even louder whenever the wet tongue travelled between both of your nipples.

"How is it possible, fuck," Sukuna groaned, scooping a hefty gush of your cum and drinking it straight from your fluttering hole. "That you're so sweet everywhere. My beautiful, divine Goddess. Come on, try to suffocate me with your cunt. Put your whole weight into it."

With your cheek stuffed full of his cock, you pulled away with a nasty pop and looked over your shoulder. "My God, please take a deep breath," you reminded, because Sukuna seemed to be absolutely lost between your drenched thighs.

With a single finger thrusting into your tight hole and an open mouth catching all the dripping sap. His teeth grazed your clit, before a warm tongue kissed the pain away. He slurped like a madman, whispering little obscenities straight into your pussy and kissing her with nasty squelches. Gluey cum stuck to his nose, lips and chin, connecting him with your parted folds.

"I can't, I don't have to, she needs me," he groaned, giving you another heavy lick. With tongue covering the entirety of your cunt and finger pushing through your pulsing walls. "So sweet, my Goddess, you're so fucking delicious."

Oh, there was truly no remedy for him!

And thus you went back to his pulsing, almost bursting shafts. Your puffy lips kissed two heads before sucking on one gently. Fingers squeezed his constricting balls, juggling them softly and giving them a shy lick.

Sukuna trembled under your body, so you did it again, and again, and again, kissing, licking and sucking on his balls, while rolling your hips against his tongue.

"My God, are you okay?" you slipped shyly, although a cheekiness shimmered in your haze.

Sukuna pulled away from your cunt, and took a deep breath. "Don't ask me stupid questions, my Goddess. My patience is already hanging by a thread, so unless you want me to fold in half and fuck that cunt raw, you better shut that pretty mouth of yours."

You giggled, biting gently down on his balls. "I'll take that as a ye–ah!" you moaned, when the second finger slipped into your tight cunt. "My G-God, that's too–"

Too much wanted to roll, but Sukuna soon added the third . "You're so tight, my Goddess. I'm afraid both of them won't fit in," he slurped, feeling the desperate squeezes of your walls and juices trickling down his fingers.

Both?

An unsettling, truly frightening thought has crossed your mind. He could tear you apart with one, and using two seemed to be a completely foolish idea!

When his pads pushed something, slightly swollen and plush, your whole body shuddered. Pleasure washed over your spine, dripping down to curled feet, and a sugary moan wrapped around his leaking cock.

"There it is," Sukuna growled, looking at your raw, soaked pussy trying to mould itself around his fingers. "My Queen, you're doing so well. Squeezing my fingers so tight, I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cocks."

The weird warmth has been coiling in your belly since his lips landed on your clit. But now, with fingers pushing your walls and pads brushing against the plump spot, something warmer, wetter started to plash inside your pouch. Something dangerously pleasurable and ready to burst beneath Sukuna's tongue and his big, stomach mouth sucking sweetly on your tits.

"My G-God, I–" you moaned, when all of his three fingers bent against the sweet spot and lips slurped on your clit. "I'm going to, mhmm, allow me to cum on your cocks, p-please."

And a single teary look over your shoulder, with hair sticking to your wet cheeks and lips fallen open, was enough to make him lose his mind.

"Whatever you wish, my Queen," he said, quickly pulling you away from his mouth.

Your body turned again, and this time you found yourself back on top, with two massive cocks squirming beneath your drooling folds and his lower hands gripping your thighs.

"You want me to…?"

He nodded, gently pulling your hips up, to help his leaking heads kiss your fluttering hole. "Ride me, my Queen. I want to watch you take it up…" his fingers traced the softness of your belly, before pushing on a spot somewhere just beneath your button. "here. Both of them."

Your pussy was ready to burst any second, and you could already feel something else, other than your normal wetness, drip down his cocks. The fog in your mind grew thicker, sweat coolly lined your neck, as you pressed both hands against his chest and leaned on trembling, feeble arms.

Rough thumb from the upper arm slipped between your folds, rolling gently the puffy clit. "Slowly, my Queen, take a deep breath." You did just that, with eyes looking straight into his. Both heads started forcing their way through your tight walls, gathering the slippery juices on the way. "That's it, that's my good girl, deep breaths."

He talked you through it, with thumb rubbing the sweet button and lower hands slowly, slowly, pulling you down his shafts.

A sharp cry rolled past your lips when both heads slipped inside. Pushing into your contracting walls and ripping you open, till the metallic taste of blood pooled somewhere at the back of your throat.

The water plopping inside your belly was filling you full, together with Sukuna's cocks constantly trying to thrust inside. You could feel every vein, every detailed curve of his shafts lick your gummy insides, as he pushed, and pushed, and took in the maddening beauty of your face, utterly lost in pleasure.

Your pussy squelched around his monstrous cocks. Cried sweetly, with a clit slowly getting much harsher rubs, till the swollen button started to tremble.

"My God, w-wait, something's wrong," you cried, trying to pull yourself off.

But Sukuna's lower hands kept you in place, and his hips bucked up, trying to meet yours. "Everything's good, my Queen. Deep breaths, you're doing so well."

"No, you don't get it, I–"

The heat hit your cheeks, walls clamped down half-thrust, and the alarmingly plopping water, finally, finally, spilt.

You came.

Or maybe, gushed.

With his cocks barely inside, a hefty wave rolled through your spine, spraying Sukuna's hands, belly, and chest with your cum. Your body trembled in pleasure, and he used this short moment of distraction to thrust his cocks fully, till your hips finally met his.

It was brutal, mean, absolutely filthy, with his lower mouth drinking your squirt and crimson eyes glimmering with maddening yearning.

Something in his mind snapped when he noticed a big bulge right under your belly button, and within a second, your position changed once again.

And this time, you knew that it was over.

He folded you in half, till your ass peeled off the drenched bed, and pussy glistened under his fiery gaze. All four arms kept you tightly in place, with lower limbs spreading your soaked thighs and upper ones taking something from the bedside table.

Only then have you noticed a crimson, bursting pomegranate, licked by the candle's warm tongues and dripping down Sukuna's forearm. He ripped it in half with a single, gentle move, before drinking the seeds with eyes never leaving yours.

"Deep breath, my Goddess," he said again, before both of his cocks rammed into your needy, stretched hole and lips crushed against yours. "Swallow it," he muttered into your reddened teeth, pushing all the pomegranate seeds straight into your mouth. "My little slutty Queen. Coming on my cocks when I barely thrusted in."

The fruit tasted sweeter than honey itself and mixed with Sukuna's sweet spin. His tongue trailed against yours, before lips moved towards your cheeks, chin, jaw, leaving all over your face a sweet, bloody trace of the fruit.

The power that tied your body, heart and soul to the God who wished for nothing but to love you like a madman and worship every piece of your skin.

His thrusts became more erratic, brutal, with squelches filling the wet, foggy air and his heavy, massive body leaning on your folded legs. His hips met yours with each roll, and whenever he pulled away, a long, sticky strand stretched between his soaked shafts and your sensitive cunt.

"Open up, my Queen," he growled, digging his fingers into your jaw. "Show me how well you swallowed it all."

Your lips fell open, and a string of drool trickled down his fingers. Big thumb pushed on your reddened tongue, and you sucked it sweetly, with eyes crossing in pleasure.

The long, fat tongue of his lower mouth slid out and gave your clit a long, filthy lick, before its lips sucked on it raw. Irritating the sensitive button and slurping on the last droplets of your squirt. Sukuna groaned, feeling your walls clamping around his cocks and pushed harsher, as if trying to fight the merciless squeeze.

"Fuck, my Goddess, let me–ahh–let get to your womb," he groaned, giving you a single, brutal thrust. You cried around his thumb, but he simply shushed you sweetly. "Don't cry, it's alright. Ngh, squeezing me so fucking hard," he leaned over, licking off the salty droplets.

His hips moved with unbelievably violent motion, rocking your bed against the wall and drawing a loud cry from your throat. Two pulsing heads kissed your womb with squelches till it swelled like a juicy peach and bent under his heartless thrusts.

A familiar warmth once again started to pool in your belly. Your arms curled behind Sukuna's neck, pulling him into another, filthy kiss. "My God, I'm g-gonna… soon… mhmm so good, s-so–ahh!"

He chuckled against your lips, but couldn't ignore the lovely tenderness filling your teary eyes. His heart jumped, and lower hands folded you into an even meaner mating press. Till you could barely breathe under his massive body, squeezing you down.

"Say it," he whispered, letting his cocks rip you raw. "Say it again."

Two fat shafts slipped in and out, smooching every little corner of your tired, swollen cunt. The pleasure filled you from head to toe, overflowing your body in electrifying strokes.

You knew what he wanted to hear. But his thrusts made a mushy mess out of your mind and eyes rolled back each time his hand pushed the bulge forming under your belly. Not even pregnancy could get you that bloated.

When your head lulled to the side, his fingers dug into your cheeks again, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Say it, my Goddess," he said, licking the last red traces of pomegranate juice from the corner of your lips. "I beg you."

"I love you," slipped like a dream. "I–I, mhmm, I love you. My God, I–"

His lips joined yours in a yearning, maddened kiss. "Fuck, my sweet Goddess. I love you so much, so fucking–fuck."

The warmth in your belly spilt again, and watery cum flooded his abdomen. The belly mouth sucked itself onto your clit, drinking each and every bead of your sweet nectar.

A second later, his hips finally stilled. Pulsing heads nuzzled into your womb, filling it with heavy, gluey cum. He pumped you full, with maddened pleasure creasing his forehead and knees digging into the mattress. Everything, just to get as close to you as possible.

His hefty cum filled your belly before bursting outside and buttering your folds.

"My God, at this point, mhmm, you'll knock me up," a sweet, tired giggle slipped past your lips, feeling his seed overflowing your poor womb. "Although I truly wouldn't mind."

He sighed, nuzzling warmly into the crook of your neck. The plushiness of your skin still made his mind spin, and the flowery fragrance haunted him like a spirit. "My Goddess, don't play with fire."

Your fingers brushed through his hair, pulling a low hum from his massive chest. "I'm not afraid to get burned," you said with full seriousness.

But God didn't answer. Just cuddled closer to your body – plush breasts, soft neck, and hair tickling his nose. He reminded you of Cerberus whenever the beast tried to cuddle into your side.

And with the same love and fondness, you kissed his temple, whispering simple yet oh so important, I'm yours, forever.

Forever it truly was for you, as no other couple on Olympus would ever conquer the utter devotion and love of the Goddess of Spring and the Lord of the Underworld.

Such contrary characters and yet relishing themselves in the most maddening obsession the Olympus has ever seen.

©liahcharms all rights reserved. Do not copy, plagiarise, feed AI, translate or modify my works.

Oh god, I'm tired but so, so happy. I think it's pretty good, but please let me know your thoughts in the comments <3 Pray forgive me for any mistakes, the wizard was proofreading it at 11 p.m.

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[coco-jino]

Evil Lives Next Door…

R.Sukuna!

EvilBoyNextDoor! Sukuna x Reader.

Sukuna is lowk a psycho who needs to be served a restraining order. Tw: home invasion kinda? Violence & mentions of blood. Sukuna is a cocky pos who lives to annoy reader.

Art is by _v7undead on X and I’m not sure who the artist of the other one is :’) but credits to them!!

The first time you met Ryomen Sukuna, he was sitting on a black motorcycle at two in the morning, covered in blood. You had only moved into the neighborhood three days earlier, so naturally your first thought was: Oh my God, my neighbor is a serial killer. He noticed you staring from your porch immediately. Four pinkish-red eyes lifted lazily toward you through the dark, sharp and terrifying even from across the street. You froze with your house keys halfway to the lock while Sukuna stared back at you for a long moment before casually wiping blood off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You gonna stand there all night?”

You nearly dropped your keys. “I—”

Your eyes darted to the blood again. Sukuna followed your gaze and clicked his tongue.

“It’s not mine.”

“That does not make it better?!”

To your horror, he laughed. Not awkwardly or apologetically, but like your panic genuinely entertained him. The porch light caught the black tattoos winding over his arms and throat while he leaned back against the motorcycle with terrifying ease.

“You’re the new neighbor.”

It wasn’t a question.

You swallowed hard. “Y-yeah.”

“Tch. Thought so.”

Then he just looked at you long enough to make your skin hot. Not in a romantic way. More like a tiger deciding whether or not you were edible. You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Well. Um. Goodnight?”

Sukuna smirked slightly. “Sure.”

You got inside your house in record time and immediately texted your best friend:

my neighbor is either in a gang or legally wanted by several governments

The problem with Sukuna was that he somehow got worse the more you knew him. At first he was just intimidating, tall, broad-shouldered, covered in tattoos, and constantly looking like he’d either kill someone or ruin their life recreationally. But then you started noticing things. Older ladies on the street adored him for some reason. He carried groceries for Mrs. Tanaka every Thursday without being asked. Neighborhood cats followed him around like he was their cryptid king. He always left food out for the orange stray near the vending machines while insulting it under his breath.

“Ugly thing,” he muttered one afternoon, crouching to scratch under the cat’s chin anyway.

The cat purred instantly.

You stared from across the sidewalk until Sukuna glanced up.

“What.”

“…You like cats?”

“No.”

The cat immediately rolled onto its back for him.

You blinked slowly. “That cat would die for you.”

“Tch. That’s its problem.”

The second major issue was that Sukuna was unfortunately very attractive. Like offensively attractive. The kind of attractive that made you angry, especially because he clearly knew it. One evening you came home carrying far too many grocery bags only to find him leaning against your fence smoking.

“You walk slow.”

You glared immediately. “Some of us buy actual food instead of surviving on cigarettes and violence.”

Sukuna snorted before taking half the grocery bags from your hands effortlessly. Your brain short-circuited.

“…What.”

“You looked pathetic.”

“That’s not nice!”

“You’re welcome.”

He started walking toward your front door anyway, forcing you to hurry after him.

“You know, normal people say things like, ‘Here, let me help you.’”

“I’m not normal.”

Unfortunately, he had a point.

But the real issue, the actual issue, was the way Sukuna looked at you differently than he looked at everyone else. You noticed it slowly over time. The way his eyes followed you when you talked. How he somehow appeared outside whenever you struggled carrying something heavy. How strangely quiet he became whenever you were upset. He still acted like a menace to society, but around you there were tiny cracks in that terrifying exterior.

One rainy evening, the power in your house went out completely. You were standing on a chair trying to reach the stupid fuse box when suddenly a deep voice behind you said:

“You’re gonna fall.”

You screamed so loudly you nearly did fall, but Sukuna caught you one-handed around the waist before you hit the ground. Your heart practically stopped.

“What is WRONG with you?!” you yelled.

“Tch. Your window was open.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re IN MY HOUSE.”

“You were taking too long.”

You stared at him in disbelief while rain hammered against the windows outside. Then you realized something even worse.

His hand was still on your waist.

Sukuna noticed your expression immediately and smirked. Your face got hotter instantly.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You’re doing that on purpose.”

His grin widened slightly. “Doing what?”

You hated him. Actually hated him.

“Get out of my house.”

“No.”

“You can’t just say no?!”

“I fixed your power.”

You blinked just as the lights flickered back on behind him.

“…Oh.”

Sukuna looked unbearably smug. “You’re welcome.”

You crossed your arms. “You’re still insane.”

“And yet,” he said lazily, stepping closer, “you keep looking at me like that.”

Your breath caught. “…Like what?”

Sukuna’s eyes dragged slowly over your face like he already knew the answer.

“Like you’re trying real hard not to kiss me.”

Your brain fully stopped functioning.

Because the worst part?

He was right.

You found out completely by accident, which somehow made the entire situation worse. Much, much worse. It happened three days after the “fuse box incident”, three days of avoiding Ryomen Sukuna as hard as humanly possible. Unfortunately, Sukuna lived directly across the street and seemed to treat personal boundaries like vague suggestions from the government. Every time you left your house, there he was. Leaning against his bike. Sitting on his porch. Standing outside the convenience store at exactly the same time as you “coincidentally.” It was horrifying. And deeply suspicious.

So when your elderly next-door neighbor Mr. Saito casually said, “Good thing that boy fixed the breaker box he tampered with,” you stopped walking entirely.

“…I’m sorry,” you said slowly. “The what he tampered with?”

Mr. Saito blinked. “The breaker outside your house. Saw him messing with it before your lights went out.”

Silence.

The grocery bag in your hand nearly slipped.

“You… saw him do it?”

“Oh yes.” The old man smiled fondly. “Young love is strange these days.”

Young—

LOVE?!

Your soul left your body.

You crossed the street so fast you almost got hit by a bicycle. Sukuna was exactly where you expected him to be: sprawled lazily across a chair on his porch like a tattooed cryptid king, one arm hanging over the side while he smoked. He looked up immediately when he saw your expression.

And smiled.

That somehow made everything worse.

“You,” you said, pointing accusingly, “cut my power?!”

Sukuna blinked once and then had the audacity to look confused.

“…Yeah.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Yeah?!”

“Tch. Why are you yelling?”

“WHY AM I—” You looked around wildly like the universe itself needed to witness this conversation. “YOU BROKE INTO MY ELECTRICAL SYSTEM.”

“I didn’t break it. I fixed it too.”

“That is NOT BETTER.”

Sukuna exhaled smoke slowly, completely unbothered by your psychological collapse.

“You were avoiding me.”

Your eye twitched. “So your solution was domestic terrorism?!”

“It was one fuse.”

“YOU SOUND INSANE.”

At that, Sukuna actually laughed. Like genuinely laughed. Deep, rough, and horribly attractive, which only enraged you further.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, horrified. “You’re actually a psycho.”

“Tch.”

“You cut my power so I’d talk to you!”

“You did talk to me.”

You stared at him in speechless disbelief. The worst part was that he sounded like this was completely reasonable behavior.

“You cannot do things like that!”

“Why not?”

“BECAUSE NORMAL PEOPLE DON’T SABOTAGE HOUSES TO FLIRT.”

Sukuna tilted his head slightly.

“…That’s flirting?”

You froze.

He froze.

Silence.

Then slowly… slowly a grin spread across Sukuna’s face. A dangerous one.

Your stomach dropped instantly.

“Oh no.”

“You thought I was flirting with you.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You just said it.”

“I TAKE IT BACK.”

Sukuna stood up from the chair in one smooth movement, towering over you immediately. Your survival instincts activated at once and you took three giant steps backward. He noticed and looked amused.

“You’re scared of me now?”

“Now?!” you repeated incredulously. “Sukuna, you committed a felony because I wasn’t texting you back!”

“It worked.”

“That’s NOT THE ISSUE.”

He stepped off the porch toward you and you backed away again immediately.

“Sukuna.”

“What.”

“If you come any closer I’m calling the police.”

“Tch. Dramatic.”

“You are literally proving my point!”

Sukuna stopped in front of you anyway, close enough that your heart immediately started acting stupid, which felt deeply unfair during an active crisis.

“You talk too much when you’re nervous,” he said lazily.

“I’m nervous because my neighbor is apparently one bad day away from becoming a true crime documentary.”

His grin widened slightly.

“You’re cute when you panic.”

Your brain blue-screened instantly.

“…What.”

Sukuna leaned down slightly, eyes sharp with amusement.

“I said—”

“I HEARD YOU.”

Silence.

Your face was burning while Sukuna looked entirely too pleased about it.

Then somehow, impossibly, he got worse.

“Your power’s gonna go out again tonight.”

You gasped in genuine horror.

“SUKUNA.”

His eyes gleamed with amusement.

“You gonna invite me in this time, or should I cut the lights first?”

You pointed at Ryomen Sukuna so aggressively your grocery bag nearly exploded.

“That,” you said, voice shaking, “is the most serial-killer sentence anyone has ever said to me.”

Sukuna looked deeply unbothered by this information.

“Tch. You watch too many crime shows.”

“YOU sabotaged my electricity to force interaction!”

“And?”

“And?!”

He stared at you for a long moment before shrugging lazily.

“You kept avoiding me.”

“That is not legal justification!”

“You’re still talking to me.”

Your eye twitched because, infuriatingly, he had a point. You hated that he had a point, and Sukuna looked unbearably smug about it too.

You took another cautious step backward. “I need you to understand something very clearly.”

“Hm?”

“If my lights flicker even once tonight, I’m calling an exorcist.”

“That only works on curses.”

“Great,” you snapped. “Then I’ll call Batman.”

Sukuna barked out a laugh so sudden it caught you completely off guard. It transformed his entire face for a second was sharper, younger and dangerously attractive which was honestly inconvenient considering the active restraining-order energy of this conversation.

You recovered quickly.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Being weirdly charming right after threatening my infrastructure.”

Sukuna smirked immediately.

“So you admit I’m charming.”

“No.”

“You just did.”

“I literally didn’t.”

“You implied it.”

You groaned loudly and turned to leave before this somehow became even more humiliating.

Then Sukuna spoke again.

“You’re coming over tonight.”

You stopped mid-step and slowly turned back toward him.

“…Excuse me?”

“My place. Eight o’clock.”

Your jaw dropped.

“That was not a request!”

“It worked though.”

“Sukuna, you cannot summon people like an evil billionaire.”

“Tch. Why not?”

“Because society has RULES.”

He crossed his arms, tattoos shifting against muscle in a way that honestly should have been illegal.

“You’ll come.”

The certainty in his voice made your stomach flip in the worst possible way.

“No, I won’t.”

“You’re curious.”

“I’m terrified.”

“Close enough.”

You stared at him for a long moment before narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“…Wait.”

Sukuna already looked amused, which was never a good sign.

“Did you only cut my power because you wanted an excuse to talk to me alone?”

Silence.

One second.

Two.

Then Sukuna looked away first.

Your mouth fell open instantly.

“Oh my God.”

“Tch.”

“Oh my GOD, you did.”

“You ask too many questions.”

“You committed electrical manipulation because you have a crush on me?!”

At that, Sukuna’s eyes snapped back to yours immediately.

“What did you say?”

Your survival instincts screamed, but unfortunately your mouth moved faster than your brain.

“You heard me.”

The entire atmosphere shifted.

Sukuna stepped toward you once and your heartbeat immediately malfunctioned.

“Say it again.”

His voice dropped lower that time. Rougher.

You absolutely should not have found that attractive.

You absolutely did.

Which honestly felt like a personal failure.

You swallowed hard. “No.”

Sukuna kept walking toward you slowly until you backed directly into your own front gate.

Oh no.

Oh no.

He planted one hand against the gate beside your head, towering over you completely now.

Your soul ascended.

“You think I have a crush on you?” he asked softly.

“You cut my power!”

“You were avoiding me.”

“That is not helping your case!”

His grin widened slightly.

“You noticed though.”

Your face felt dangerously hot.

“Unfortunately.”

For one terrible second, neither of you moved.

Then Sukuna leaned closer… close enough that you could smell smoke, rain, and something distinctly him.

“You gonna come over tonight,” he murmured, “or do I need to start tampering with your water supply too?”

You stared at him in absolute disbelief.

“…You are clinically insane.”

“And yet,” Sukuna said lazily, eyes dropping briefly to your mouth, “you’re still looking at me like that.”

Your brain short-circuited.

Again.

This man was a public safety hazard.

By the time you knocked on Ryomen Sukuna’s door at exactly eight o’clock, you already knew this was a mistake. A catastrophic one. The kind future-you would eventually look back on and say: Yeah, that was the beginning of my downfall.

The door opened almost immediately. Sukuna leaned against the frame wearing a black t-shirt and loose sweatpants like he wasn’t the most dangerous man in a three-mile radius. His eyes flicked over you once, slowly, before he smirked.

“You actually came.”

You crossed your arms immediately. “I’m here to make sure you never touch my electrical system again.”

“Tch. Sure.”

“That’s literally why I’m here.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

You followed him inside anyway.

Big mistake.

His house somehow smelled exactly like him. Smoke, rain, and something warm underneath it all. Minimal furniture. Dark colors. One giant couch that looked unfairly comfortable. And somehow it was worse seeing Sukuna in a normal setting, because he still radiated the exact same dangerous energy while doing completely ordinary things. Like handing you a drink. Or leaning against the kitchen counter watching you talk. Or looking at you for slightly too long.

“You’re staring again,” you accused.

“You talk with your hands.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s distracting.”

Your face got hot instantly while Sukuna looked unbearably satisfied about it.

The conversation somehow devolved into arguing over movies, then music, then whether or not he was “legally concerning as a human being.”

“I’m serious,” you said. “You have villain energy.”

“And you still came over.”

“That was investigative journalism.”

Sukuna barked out a laugh.

Then the room got quiet.

Not awkward quiet.

Worse.

The kind where you suddenly became hyperaware of how close he was sitting. How his arm rested along the back of the couch behind you. How his eyes kept dropping to your face whenever you spoke.

Your heartbeat started acting suspicious immediately.

“You’re nervous again,” Sukuna murmured.

“No, I’m not.”

“Liar.”

You turned toward him to argue and immediately stopped.

He was way closer than expected.

Your brain completely stalled.

Sukuna noticed instantly.

That smug look returned immediately.

“Oh, you’re in trouble now.”

“Sukuna—”

“You keep looking at me like you forgot how to think.”

“That is not happening.”

“Hm.”

Then he leaned in slightly. Not all the way. Just enough to make your pulse spike violently.

“You gonna run away again?” he asked quietly.

Your brain screamed: leave immediately.

Your body completely ignored that advice.

For one terrible second, neither of you moved.

Then Sukuna kissed you.

And your brain fully shut down.

Because oh.

OH.

That was—

That was a problem.

A massive one.

Your hands instinctively grabbed onto his shirt as the kiss deepened briefly, and somewhere in the middle of your rapidly collapsing decision-making skills you ended up half in his lap while Sukuna looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Then suddenly…

Your survival instincts returned.

You jerked back so fast you nearly fell off the couch.

“Oh my God.”

Sukuna already looked irritated. “What.”

“You—”

You pointed at him accusingly while your face burned alive.

“You’re evil.”

A pause.

Then slowly, Sukuna grinned.

“…Because I kissed you?”

“You HYPNOTIZED me somehow.”

He laughed immediately. Actually laughed. Deep, cocky, thoroughly satisfied laughter while you stared at him in horror.

“That is the only explanation.”

“Tch. Sure.”

“You’re like- like medically seductive.”

Sukuna leaned back against the couch looking unbearably smug now.

“You were kissing me back.”

“THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT.”

“It seemed important.”

You made a strangled noise, grabbed your jacket, and practically sprinted toward the door.

Behind you, Sukuna called out lazily:

“You’ll come back.”

You whipped around, scandalized. “NO I WON’T.”

His grin widened.

“Liar.”

[coco-jino]

The Things We Do in the Dark

Forbidden love between Sorcerer! Reader and True Form Sukuna. And a Gojo cameo!!

Final Part

Part five

⸻

The shrine was quiet, almost too quiet. The wind whispered through the pines outside, carrying the scent of moss and earth and the lanterns flickered faintly against the polished wood.

You were kneeling by the inner courtyard, arranging talismans and checking your weapons. Every so often, your gaze flicked toward the shadowed corridors, expecting Sukuna to appear. But tonight… something felt off.

A ripple in the air. A pulse of cursed energy unlike anything you’d felt in weeks.

“Interesting.”

The voice was light, teasing, confident—too confident for someone arriving uninvited. You stiffened. From the mist outside the shrine, a figure appeared.

White hair. Blindfolded eyes. A grin that made your stomach clench.

“Gojo Satoru,” he said smoothly, bowing with a mock elegance that didn’t quite hide the danger radiating off him. “Sent by the elders to… tidy up a little mess.”

Your blood ran cold. The elders rarely moved directly—let alone sending him. His cursed energy alone was a storm waiting to break, and now it was here, centered on you.

“You’re… prettier than I expected,” Gojo added, blindfolded eyes lingering just a moment too long. His tone flirted, playful, dangerously casual. “Almost makes me wish I didn’t have a job to do.” He added with a shrug.

Sukuna’s presence slammed down behind you like a physical weight. Four eyes glared at the intruder, amber blazing with heat and fury.

“You,” Sukuna said slowly, the edges of his voice slicing the air. “You think you can just wander in here… and flirt?”

Gojo tilted his head, grin widening. “Flirt? Oh, I wouldn’t call it that. More like… appreciation. And I do appreciate a competent sorcerer who doesn’t immediately die when I show up. Especially when she’s… fascinating.” His grin widened.

You felt your pulse spike—not entirely from fear.

Sukuna’s jaw tensed, energy coiling like a spring ready to snap. “You came to execute us,” he said quietly. “And now you waste time on… idle thoughts?”

“I’m multitasking,” Gojo replied lightly, spreading his hands in a theatrical gesture. “Execution is boring when there’s entertainment around. And trust me, you two are very entertaining.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You wanted to step back, to take cover, but Sukuna’s hand brushed lightly against your arm—not to guide, just to remind you he existed. The juxtaposition of his presence and Gojo’s teasing arrogance made your mind race.

“Enough games,” Sukuna returned the mocking grin. “Do not test me.”

Gojo’s grin didn’t falter. “Oh, I’m not testing you,” he said smoothly. “Just… curious. I wonder what makes someone like you tick. And you—” he turned his head toward you—“what drives you to stick with a monster like him?”

Every word was a challenge, a spark thrown into the kindling of tension between you and Sukuna.

You felt Sukuna’s hand tighten on your arm, possessive and protective, and yet the thrill of the encounter was intoxicating. You weren’t just caught between a fight—you were caught between two forces, both terrifying in their own ways.

“Curiosity is… dangerous,” Sukuna said, voice low, eyes never leaving Gojo. “And I don’t like danger.”

“Good,” Gojo replied lightly, tilting his head, “because danger is kind of my specialty.”

And with that, the air between the three of you cracked, thick with tension, power and something you couldn’t name but could feel in your chest. The night had just begun and already you knew nothing would be the same.

⸻

The wind picked up, carrying the scent of pine and rain as Gojo stepped fully into the courtyard. His white hair whipped around his blindfolded eyes, and the grin on his face made your stomach tighten.

“Ready to die yet?” he teased, voice light, almost flippant. “Or should we make this… fun?”

Sukuna’s four eyes narrowed, golden flames coiling in the dark. “You overestimate yourself.”

Gojo tilted his head, relaxed, almost bored. “I do tend to do that.”

Before you could react, Gojo moved—a blur of cursed energy and speed. You barely had time to raise a talisman before he struck. Sparks of cursed energy splintered across the shrine, shattering lanterns and throwing wooden beams askew.

“Y/N,” Sukuna barked, his presence a wall of heat and power. “Stay behind me.”

But you didn’t. Not entirely. You darted forward, planting talismans where you could, drawing small circles of binding cursed energy to slow Gojo’s attacks, distracting him just enough to give Sukuna the upper hand.

It wasn’t much. You were no match for someone like Gojo. But your timing and precision mattered. Each spell, each movement, carefully measured to protect the shrine and give Sukuna the advantage.

Gojo laughed, flipping backward as he avoided one of your binding circles. “Not bad, little firecracker,” he said with a smirk. “You’re surprisingly competent.”

Sukuna’s lips curled in a dangerous grin, amber eyes blazing. He moved like a shadow with claws, each strike precise, controlled, deadly. Gojo countered, but the fight was clear: Sukuna was stronger. Not by much—Gojo was fast, cunning, playful but the raw force and cunning of Sukuna outweighed him.

You planted another talisman at Gojo’s feet, sending a burst of energy under him. He barely flipped away, grinning, and shot a teasing look at you.

“You’re all trouble,” he said, his voice teasing, almost flirtatious. “I like it.”

Sukuna growled low, a rumble that shook the wooden beams. “Enough. He’ll leave soon.”

And that’s exactly what happened.

With a dramatic spin and a mocking bow, Gojo leapt back over the riverbank and into the trees. “I’ll be back,” he called, his voice echoing through the mist. Then, before he disappeared completely, he added with a smirk, “Try not to get eaten in the meantime, gorgeous.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, his cursed energy flaring violently for a heartbeat, then dissipating. His gaze shot to you, amber eyes burning.

Sukuna’s lips twitched. Not a smile, not quite, but something dangerously soft. He reached for your hand, curling his fingers lightly around yours. “We need to prepare. Plan. He’ll be back, and next time… I won’t let him leave so easily.”

⸻

The shrine smoldered, faint wisps of smoke curling from shattered lanterns and scorched tatami. The battle had ended—or so it seemed. Gojo had fled, but you knew better than to believe he wouldn’t return. Sukuna, towering and lethal, stood among the ruin, amber eyes blazing in the dim light.

He didn’t look at you at first. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was a storm, and you felt it settle around you like chains you didn’t mind.

“You’re quiet,” he said finally, voice low, lethal, and unreadable. “After all that… I expected something.”

“I’m alive,” you said, voice steady, though your heart still raced. “Isn’t that enough?”

He didn’t respond immediately. His hand brushed yours—not soft, not affectionate, but claiming, reminding you that nothing in this world was yours without his permission.

“You survive,” he said at last, voice a whisper meant only for you. “And yet… I’m not satisfied. There’s always another storm.”

You knew he was right. That was Sukuna. There was no end. No moment of peace. Even after Gojo, even after the fight, the world would always demand more.

“I’ll face it,” you said quietly. “As long as it’s with you.”

That earned a chuckle—low, dangerous, vibrating in your chest. His fingers tightened around yours. “Bold. Foolish. Exactly why I will always want you.”

The sun began to set, casting long shadows through the broken beams. The shrine was battered but standing. The night would be long, and so would the dangers beyond it.

Yet here, in the center of the chaos, there was a fragile, terrifying balance. You didn’t know if tomorrow would bring death, another attack, or even betrayal. But for now, you were here. And Sukuna was here.

He leaned down, close enough that you could feel his heat, his power coiling around you like a living thing. Not a kiss—yet—but the promise of claim, the undeniable assertion of dominance that left no doubt who you were tethered to.

“Sleep,” he commanded, finally, voice velvet over steel. “Tomorrow… we see who survives the night.”

You rested in his shadow, aware of the danger, aware of the power, aware that your lives would never be ordinary, never safe, never simple. And yet, the pull between you—the dark, twisted, intoxicating bond—was the only certainty in a world that offered none.

Outside, the wind whispered through the pines. Somewhere distant, Gojo’s laughter lingered, a reminder that the storm was never truly over.

But inside, in the smoldering quiet of the shrine, only you and Sukuna remained.

And that—whatever came next—was enough.

The End…

⸻

@bl0g-d0ll @itxsaphinax @ilovedaddysakuna @theatercryer @lunnesxlunamoon @household-cryptid @blairresilience @rienaxx-bomb1

[fireflyschiikawa]

heian!sukuna writing letters to his upset wife

the first letter, arrives short and abrupt.

return. do not make me come for you.

lord, R.S.

the second letter, arrives soon after.

to the one who dares deny me her presence, you left without permission. return at once.

your lord, ryomen sukuna.

the third letter, arrives in a much longer scroll.

how troublesome. you forget yourself, woman. there is no place you may go that is beyond my reach. had i wished it, you would have been returned to my side before nightfall. consider it generosity that you were not. do not ignore my scrolls.

your lord, ryomen.

the fourth letter,

since i cannot imagine there is much in those lands to interest you, i can only suppose your continued absence is due to your ever prolonging distaste with me.

i urge you: come be angry at a nearer distance.

your husband, R.S.

the fifth letter,

you are in no mood for games. very well. i am in no mood for them, either.

let me say it outright: there are moments brief, and increasingly frequent in which i reach for you without thought. this displeases me, i am not accustomed to such absence from you, nor restraint.

you have forced both upon me.

come home and shout at me. come home and fight with me. come home and break my heart, if you must. it has become yours only to break. just come home.

your husband, sukuna.

the next letter,

not even responding to my missives is ridiculous and beneath you and i hate it.

atleast inform me of your health.

ryomen sukuna

and then finally, your reply,

stop writing to me, at once. my wedded lord you have trespassed much and caused me such nuisance, it is quite enough now.

i am well. but do not pretend as if you may not already know that. you think i am not aware of my new lady’s maid keeping an eye on me, certainly appointed to report back to you?

consider it my generosity that i let her stay, and consider it my ignorance towards your repetitive letters for my lack of response.

if i receive any such scroll from you, i shall burn it.

signed, yours.

and his response,

surely if your lovely eyes may not grace my lowly epistles, then i shall speak freely.

to my most willful wife, you command me to cease, and yet you write at length. i had not realized i occupied you so thoroughly. as for your lady’s maid, you give me too much credit. if she watches you, it is because you are worth watching. i would hardly entrust such a task to another. although i cannot speak for what ways uraume employs to inform me on your health..

i have been told it is unbecoming to repeat oneself so, i will not ask you to return again. you may remain where you are, in whatever peace you have convinced yourself you prefer. i will not contest it.

and yet, i find myself wondering: why you will not come back of your own accord. have you no consideration, for your neglected husband?

the hand you force, your husband.

to my most theatric husband, you mistake response for preoccupation. do not flatter yourself, i write only to correct what you insist on misunderstanding.

as for being “worth watching,” you dress surveillance in pretty language, you always had a knack for that. for such sweet talk will not work on me, do not expect gratitude for it.

if your husband is neglected, perhaps he should consider why.

signed, your wife, unfortunately.

to my most contrary wife, “unfortunately,” and yet you take such care to sign it. i wonder if your hand hesitated at all.

as for your refusal of gratitude, keep it, i did not ask for it. you suggest your husband reflect on his neglect. i have. thoroughly. i apologize for everything, end this torment for me wife, for i can bear it no longer.

you insist my words hold no effect on you now. how curious, has distance made you bold, or merely forgetful? i recall a time not long past, when your resolve was far less reliable. how easily it would slip from you, how quickly your protests would soften when i would indulge you, a little more closely. 𓀐𓂸

have you truly forgotten? or are you simply daring me to remind you?

very well. do not worry, i will remind you, not behind these papers this time. consider that a courtesy, one last chance to brace yourself or do you prefer to test me?

i would find it entertaining, either way.

your lord and husband, R.S.

my lord, you are most unfair!

do not be naughty, ryomen. i warn you, what you speak of this “reminder” it is highly improper. and what if someone else were to see it? consider your poor wife’s reputation!

your teasing is relentless, and i am most vexed. you threaten of your arrival, yet remain absent, perhaps one day, your threats will find action..though i dare not hope it too loudly.

if you intend to test my resolve, i suggest you waste no more time. come, then, and take me with you, lest i change my mind.

apology accepted, your wife.

a shorter note, in refined handwriting,

lord ryomen sukuna will be arriving soon.

his subject, uraume.

firefly; this is probably my first fic where i have worked SO hard on formatting it, i hope you guys enjoy ❀ུ͏  

inspo: by cardan’s letters to jude from the folk of the air series.

more kuna

[nejiverse]

can we all agree heian sukuna is unmatched

[that1geek06]

"English isn't my-"

Hush now my friend, and let me read the absolute beauty of a fic that you have bestowed this world and humiliated the first English speakers with

[vetckkie]

girl get off that c.ai and embrace the 'x reader'

[blkkizzat]

CAN YOU KISS ME MORE?

TRUE FORM SUKUNA X READER

cw: smut, bloodplay, nasty sloppy kissing wc: 790

True Form Sukuna never kisses you when he fucks you.

It wasn't something he ever deemed necessary to share such intimacy with a mere concubine-- even if you were his favorite. You'd always cum hard regardless, milking his thick cocks so obediently without any request or complaint. You were the perfect little fuck doll. So he's slightly taken aback one day when you are so cockdrunk and fucked out you forget yourself and ask for him to kiss you. The request was slurred and almost intelligible as he'd been tearing up your tight cunny the majority of the night, you barely had a coherent thought. He wondered if it finally happened and he broke your mind with his cocks--- had to be the case if you were asking him something this delusional. Clearly you were delirious if you thought he'd agree to such a ridiculous request.

However, if there is anything he loves more than fucking you and thats teasing you. Sukuna smirks. Hovering over your shaky sweat-ridden form and admiring the new bruises that are blooming under your skin. He's so close to your face you close your eyes in anticipation and quiver thinking of the fiery kiss he would surely swallow you whole with when Sukuna slaps his hand over your mouth. Your eyes shoot open in realization as the mouth on his hand forces it's thick tongue down your throat.Sukuna grins at you evilly, thinking it would be the last time you make such a silly request of him and waiting to drink in your disappointed whines. Yet the expression quickly falls off his face when he realizes your hands that are now clutching his wrists aren't to pull him away but to deepen the kiss. Once over your initial shock, the pleasure of being kissed by Sukuna--- even by his mere hand takes over. You moan wantonly into his heavy palm. Your tongue pushes back against his moist appendage as if to fight a losing battle of dominance, it just felt so good, so complete to have him filling all parts of you. Both your holes clenched impossibly tighter around him as you wrap your arms around his wrist, threading your fingers through his own as his massive hand is brought even closer to your face.

Not even when the sharp canines of his hand mouth puncture your tongue and fill yours and his with blood, you attempt to pull back. The sensation is even more dizzying as his mouth tongue greedily sucks your blood down as it spills from you. A mix of drool and blood pool in the corners of your mouth and dribble down your neck as you slobber and gurgle to breathe through the kiss yet still stroke the back of his hand like it were the nape of his neck, encouraging his hand to ravage you harder. You nearly choke from how far it tries to reach down your throat. Sukuna's hand tongue mimicked the motions of his cock the way it drove itself into your heated mouth. You were so close, so close to cumming again bucking your hips up to him and his thrusts in turn picked up speed. Sukuna pounding you so deep you thought he might puncture a lung--- not like you were making good use of them now anyway. However just as you are reaching your peak Sukuna rips his hand away from your mouth. "Stupid filthy fucking girl. Not an ounce of fucking couth." Before his mouth, his primary one, slams onto your kiss swollen lips. If you could have processed anything beyond your own pleasure you could have realized then how jealous Sukuna was of his own fucking hand. Yet everything goes blank as white hot pleasure consumes you now that you are finally kissing him on the actual mouth, this tongue even more determined to ruin you than the last.

Your hands grip the sides of his tattooed face as your pussy gushes and flutters around him so hard causing him to do something he rarely ever did and cum inside you. Nevertheless he continues to drill his cum into your holes as he attacks your bruised lips, uncaring now if you were slightly turning blue from the lack of air from his hand around your neck pinning you to the bed. Sukuna only pulls back when you are near the point of passing out. He couldn't have you tapping out just yet, not when you were awakening his carnal fires in such a way. You ragdoll against him as Sukuna flips you over on top of him squishing your cheeks in one hand to force your mouth open as he continues to fuck up into you with renewed vigor.

True Form Sukuna now always kisses you when he fucks you.

a/n: wrote this all @ 3am IN TUMBLR DRAFTS of all places so you know im delirious doing something this reckless. needing sleep but cant cause i cant find my indica vape and my adhd meds havent worn off yet lol. but my mind is not stable enough to write on any of my many WIPs lol. sorry for whatever this is lmfao i just had the massive intrusive thought of Sukuna being jealous of you making out with his hand so hard lmfao. EDIT-- now that im lucid and not sleep deprived i fixed some errors and reformatted lol.

[aransmind]

skater boys

[coco-jino]

The Things We Do in the Dark

By

Part Five

Part Four

Jujutsu Sorcerer Y/N x true form Sukuna!! Forbidden love…

⸻

Before the shrine.

Before the lies.

Before you ever stood beside Ryomen Sukuna and called it a choice—

you were sent to kill him.

⸻

You were younger then. Not inexperienced. But not yet… dangerous in the way you would become.

The mission had been simple in theory:

Investigate the disturbance. Confirm if it is Sukuna. Retreat if necessary.

No one actually expected you to survive contact.

You knew that.

They knew that.

But you went anyway.

⸻

The forest felt wrong long before you reached the shrine.

Too quiet.

Too still.

Cursed energy clung to everything, thick and suffocating, like the land itself had learned to breathe around something monstrous.

Most sorcerers would have turned back.

You didn’t.

Not because you were fearless.

But because you needed to know.

⸻

You found him without realizing it.

Or rather—

he let you.

The shrine stood broken, ancient, half-swallowed by time. You stepped inside cautiously, senses stretched thin, every instinct screaming at you to be ready—

And then—

“You’re early.”

The voice came from behind you.

Your body reacted before your mind did—you spun, cursed energy snapping into place—

And froze.

Four eyes.

All on you.

Watching.

Amused.

Interested.

“You’re not running,” he observed.

Your grip tightened on your weapon.

“…Should I?”

That—

that was your first mistake.

Sukuna smiled. Slow and curious.

“Most do.”

“Then I’m not most.”

A pause. Something shifted. Not the air.

Him.

Just slightly.

Enough to notice.

⸻

You attacked first. Of course you did. You were a sorcerer. He was a curse. That was how this worked. Your technique struck fast—clean, precise, aimed to test, not kill.

It didn’t matter. He caught it. Effortlessly. Like it was nothing. Like you were nothing.

And then—

he laughed.

Not mocking or cruel.

Just… entertained.

“That’s it?” Sukuna said.

Your jaw clenched.

“I’m not done.”

“Good.”

The word came softer than expected.

Then—

he moved.

You didn’t even see it.

One moment he was across from you and the next, his hand was at your throat, lifting you just enough to force your body to react. Your breath hitched. Not from pain. From the speed. From the power.

“You’re weak,” he murmured.

Not impressed.

Not yet.

But not bored either.

And that—

that was the only reason you were still alive.

⸻

You should have died there. Every instinct told you that. Every lesson drilled into you as a sorcerer told you:

If you encounter Sukuna, you don’t hesitate.

But you did.

Not in fear.

In… observation.

You were looking at him.

Not just as a curse.

But as something… more.

Something aware.

Something choosing not to kill you.

“…Why?” you asked.

The word slipped out before you could stop it.

Sukuna tilted his head slightly.

“Why what?”

“Why am I still alive?”

Silence.

Then—

a slow, sharp smile.

“You’re asking the wrong question.”

His grip tightened just slightly.

“You should be asking how long that will last.”

Your pulse jumped.

But you didn’t look away.

Didn’t beg.

Didn’t break.

And that—

that was the moment everything changed.

⸻

“Come back.” The words were casual. Like an afterthought. But they weren’t.

Your breath caught.

“…What?”

“Come back,” Sukuna repeated, releasing your throat without warning.

You stumbled slightly, catching yourself. Confused. Thrown off.

“Why would I do that?”

His eyes lingered on you.

Deciding.

“Because next time,” he said, voice low, amused, “I might actually try.”

Your chest tightened.

“That’s not exactly convincing.”

Sukuna laughed.

“It’s not supposed to be.”

A pause.

Then—

“If you don’t come back,” he added, almost lazily, “I’ll find you instead.”

That—

that felt more real.

More like a threat.

“…You expect me to just walk back into this?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

No doubt.

Like it was already decided.

⸻

You left that day.

Alive and unharmed but shaken.

And you told them—

nothing.

⸻

You went back three nights later.

⸻

The second time, he didn’t wait.

The moment you stepped into the shrine—

“You came.”

You turned.

He was closer this time.

Already watching.

Already expecting you.

“I said I would.”

A lie. You hadn’t. But it didn’t matter.

Sukuna’s gaze dragged over you slowly. Taking in every detail. Every change. Every hesitation.

“Good,” he said.

And that was it.

No attack.

No immediate violence.

Just—

attention.

⸻

That’s how it started.

Not with love.

Not with trust.

But with interest.

⸻

You returned again.

And again.

Each time telling yourself it was for information or strategy.

For understanding your enemy.

But slowly—

the space between you changed.

Conversations lasted longer. Silences grew heavier. Closer.

He started touching you more—not gently, not kindly, but deliberately. Testing. Claiming. Learning how you reacted.

And you—

you stopped pulling away as quickly.

⸻

“You’re still pretending,” Sukuna said one night.

You leaned against the shrine pillar, watching him.

“Pretending what?”

“That you’re here for them.”

Your chest tightened.

“I am.”

He stepped closer.

Of course he did.

“You don’t lie well.”

“I lie just fine.”

“You come back,” he said softly. “That’s not strategy.”

Your breath hitched.

“Then what is it?”

A pause.

A slow smile.

“Something worse.”

⸻

The first time you stayed too long—

he noticed.

The first time you didn’t flinch when he touched you— he remembered.

The first time you didn’t report back what you learned—

he knew.

⸻

And the first time you realized you didn’t want him dead—

you didn’t say it out loud.

But you came back the next night anyway.

⸻

That’s when it stopped being curiosity. And started becoming something far more dangerous.

⸻

Because Sukuna doesn’t chase. He doesn’t beg. He doesn’t build relationships. He takes. He keeps. He decides.

⸻

And somewhere between the first time you should have died and the moment you chose him on that battlefield—

Sukuna had already made up his mind.

⸻

You weren’t an enemy anymore. You weren’t even just interesting.

⸻

You were his.

⸻

You should have left earlier that night.

You knew it.

The forest had gone still—too still—and the shrine felt heavier than usual, like the air itself was pressing you toward something inevitable.

“You’re staying longer.” His voice came from behind you.

Closer than expected. You didn’t turn immediately.

“…Maybe I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

A lie.

A weak one.

Sukuna noticed. Of course he did.

Ryomen Sukuna stepped closer, his presence wrapping around you before his shadow did. “You always have somewhere else to be,” he said. “You just keep choosing not to go.”

Your chest tightened.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything.” His hand reached you before you could respond—fingers brushing your wrist, slow, deliberate.

Not grabbing.

Not forcing.

Just there.

Testing.

Waiting.

You didn’t pull away.

That was the moment.

Small and quiet.

But irreversible.

Sukuna stilled.

Not physically—but something in him sharpened. Focused.

“…Interesting.”

Your pulse jumped.

“It’s not—”

His fingers slid up your arm. Slow and intentional. Measuring your reaction. You should have stepped back. You didn’t.

His hand reached your shoulder.

Paused.

Then pressed—just enough to guide you back a step.

Then another.

Until your back met the shrine pillar.

Your breath caught.

“Sukuna—”

“You’re not leaving,” he murmured.

Not a question.

Not a command.

An observation.

And somehow—that made it worse.

His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face upward. Forcing your gaze to meet his. All four eyes locked onto you.

“You feel it,” he said softly.

You swallowed.

“…Feel what?”

“That moment where you realize,” he continued, voice lowering, “you should stop this.”

Your breath hitched.

Because he was right.

“And you don’t.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Charged.

His thumb brushed lightly beneath your lip.

Testing.

Waiting.

You didn’t move.

Didn’t resist.

Didn’t deny it.

And that—

that was when it changed.

Something in Sukuna’s expression darkened—not anger, not cruelty, but something more focused.

More deliberate.

“Dangerous,” he murmured.

But he didn’t step back.

He stepped closer. Close enough that the space between you disappeared entirely. Your breath faltered.

Because now—

there was no pretending this was just curiosity.

His hand slid slowly from your jaw to your throat.

Resting there.

Warm.

Possessive.

“Remember this,” Sukuna said quietly.

“Because you don’t get to pretend you didn’t choose it.”

⸻

It didn’t happen all at once.

Sukuna didn’t even realize it.

Not immediately.

At first, it was just interest.

Then preference.

Then expectation.

You came when he wanted. You stayed when he allowed. You left when he was done.

Simple.

Predictable.

Until—

you didn’t.

⸻

“You’re leaving early.” You didn’t look back. “I have a mission.”

A mistake.

You felt it instantly.

The shift.

Subtle.

But sharp.

“…With who?”

You hesitated. That was all it took.

“You’re hesitating.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

The words came colder than usual. Your chest tightened.

“It’s just another sorcerer.”

“Say his name.”

Your jaw clenched.

“…It doesn’t matter.”

“Say it.”

“…Toji.”

Silence.

Sukuna went still.

“Toji Fushiguro,” he repeated slowly. Like he was testing the name. Weighing it. Dissecting it.

“You fight beside him?”

“Yes.”

“You trust him?”

“I—”

Wrong answer.

He stepped back.

Once.

Then again.

Creating distance. Which was worse. Far worse.

Because Sukuna didn’t create space unless—

he was deciding something.

“You’re going.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

Another pause.

Then—

“Don’t.”

Your breath caught.

“…What?”

“I said don’t.”

The command settled heavy in the air.

Unavoidable.

“You don’t get to tell me that.” Your voice came sharper now. More defensive.

And that—

that was the exact moment.

Sukuna’s gaze snapped back to you.

“You think this is still a choice?”

The question hit harder than anything else.

Because—

until that moment—

you had.

“I come here because I want to,” you said.

“You come here because I let you.”

The correction was immediate. Cutting and final.

Your pulse spiked.

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It is to me.”

Silence.

Then—

quieter—

more dangerous—

“You don’t stand beside anyone else.” Your breath caught. “You don’t get close to anyone else.” Your chest tightened. “And you don’t walk out of here,” Sukuna finished, voice dropping low, “and act like what happens between us doesn’t exist.”

The words sank in. Heavy. Binding.

And that’s when you realised that this wasn’t interest anymore. This wasn’t curiosity. This wasn’t even obsession.

⸻

This was possession.

⸻

After that night—

nothing felt the same.

You still left. You still returned to the sorcerers. You still took missions. But something had shifted. Irreversibly.

⸻

“You’re distracted.”

The voice pulled you back.

Training grounds.

Daylight.

Reality.

Across from you stood Toji Fushiguro, watching you with that same sharp, unreadable gaze.

“You hesitated.”

Again.

You tightened your grip.

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

He stepped closer.

“You keep doing that.”

Your chest tightened.

Because now—

you knew why.

Because every time you moved, every time you fought, every time you thought about Sukuna—

there was a hesitation.

A fracture. A split. And it was getting worse.

⸻

That night—

you went back.

Of course you did. You always did. The shrine felt heavier than usual. More suffocating. Like it already knew.

“You were with him today.”

You froze.

Because you hadn’t said anything yet.

“…You were watching?”

Sukuna stepped into view.

“I don’t need to watch,” he said. “I can feel it.”

Your pulse spiked.

Because that meant—

he had felt it.

The hesitation. The conflict. The part of you that wasn’t entirely his.

And that—

was exactly where it all begins.

⸻

Because from that moment on—

Sukuna wasn’t just interested. He wasn’t just watching. He wasn’t just waiting.

⸻

He was testing you.

Breaking you.

Forcing you to choose.

⸻

And the worst part?

⸻

You already had.

⸻

To be continued…

@ilovedaddysakuna @itxsaphinax @theatercryer @lunnesxlunamoon @bl0g-d0ll @household-cryptid @blairresilience

[coco-jino]

The Things We Do in the Dark

By

Forbidden love between true form Sukuna x sorcerer reader!!! Reader is head over heels and lowk desperate.

NOTE: this part contains smut so be aware!!! It’s a bit hardcore. Also I’m not the best at writing smut so if it’s trash let’s just act like it never happened. MDNI!!!

Part Four

Part one Part Two Part Three

⸻

The silence didn’t break.

It tightened.

The shrine felt smaller somehow, the air pressing in until every breath you took felt borrowed—allowed, not yours. Ryomen Sukuna hadn’t moved. Not since his last words. But that was worse.

Because when Sukuna was still—

he was deciding.

And you could feel it.

In the way his cursed energy coiled low and heavy beneath the surface. In the way his gaze stayed fixed on you, unblinking, like he was stripping you down to something simpler. Something easier to control.

“You hesitated.” The words came quiet. Not sharp. Not loud. But they landed heavier than anything he’d said before.

“I—”

“Don’t.”

He cut you off instantly.

“I’m not interested in excuses.”

Your jaw clenched.

“I wasn’t choosing him.”

“No,” Sukuna agreed softly.

His thumb pressed against your pulse.

“You were choosing not me.”

Your breath caught.

And that—

that was the problem.

Because he wasn’t wrong. Not entirely.

His hand slid from your throat, slowly—too slowly—down to your shoulder, fingers curling there, firm, grounding, possessive.

“Do you know what that means?” he asked and you didn’t answer. You didn’t trust your voice. “It means,” Sukuna continued, stepping closer—until there was no space left between you, “that you still think you have the right to decide when to act.”

His grip tightened at your shoulder. “That ends now.”

Your pulse spiked.

“You chose to stay,” he said. “You chose to stand beside me.”

A pause.

Then—

“Which means you don’t get to pick and choose what parts of me you accept.”

The words sank deep.

Because this—

this was the version of him no one survived.

The one that didn’t negotiate.

Didn’t compromise.

Didn’t care.

His hand moved again—back to your chin, forcing your gaze up to meet his.

“Look at me.”

You did. You always did.

And that, somehow, made this worse.

“Tell me,” Sukuna murmured, eyes narrowing slightly as he searched your expression, “when you stepped in front of me…” His thumb brushed just beneath your lip, slow, deliberate, testing your reaction.

“…what did you think would happen?”

Your breath hitched. “I thought you’d kill him.”

“And that bothered you.”

Not a question.

A statement.

Your silence confirmed it.

Sukuna exhaled softly.

Almost amused.

But there was no warmth in it.

“You’re still divided.” The words came like a verdict. “And I don’t share.”

Before you could react, he moved—fast—your back hitting the wooden pillar behind you, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. His hand came up beside your head, bracing against the wood, trapping you there.

Close.

Too close.

“You don’t get to carry pieces of other people into my domain,” he said, voice dropping lower, rougher now. “Not after choosing me.”

Your breath came uneven.

“I didn’t—”

His hand snapped back to your throat.

Firm.

Final.

“Stop lying.”

The command cracked through the space.

And this time—

you didn’t argue.

Because arguing would make it worse.

Because you could feel it—

you were already past the point where words mattered.

A slow smile pulled at Sukuna’s lips.

“There it is,” he murmured. “You’re learning.”

Your pulse thudded beneath his fingers.

Fast.

Unsteady.

Exposed.

He felt it.

Of course he did.

His thumb pressed into that rhythm, not enough to hurt—but enough to remind you that he controlled it.

“Good,” he said softly. “Then listen carefully.”

The air shifted again.

Not violent.

Not explosive.

But heavy.

Deliberate.

Like something locking into place.

“You don’t leave this shrine unless I allow it.”

Your breath caught.

“You don’t fight beside anyone else.”

His grip tightened just slightly.

“You don’t protect anyone from me.”

Each rule settled deeper than the last.

Because they weren’t suggestions. They were conditions.

And then—

his voice dropped, quieter.

More dangerous.

“And you don’t hesitate.”

Silence.

You swallowed carefully.

“And if I do?” you asked. You shouldn’t have. But you did.

Sukuna tilted his head slightly, studying you. Like he’d been waiting for that. “Then I remind you.”

The words were soft. But the meaning wasn’t.

Before you could process it, his hand left your throat—only to catch your wrist, pulling it sharply upward and pressing it against the pillar above your head.

Your breath hitched.

Not pain.

Control.

Your other wrist followed just as quickly.

Pinned.

Trapped.

Not violently.

But completely.

Your pulse spiked.

“Sukuna—”

“Now you’re paying attention,” he murmured.

His gaze dropped briefly to where he held you, then back to your face—watching, measuring, absorbing every shift in your expression.

“This is what happens,” he continued, voice low, almost thoughtful now, “when you forget your place.”

Your chest rose sharply.

“I didn’t forget.”

“No?”

His grip tightened slightly around your wrists.

“Because from where I’m standing,” Sukuna said, leaning closer, his voice brushing against your skin, “it looked like you thought you could decide who lives and dies in my presence.”

A pause.

Then—

“Say it.”

Your breath faltered.

“Say what?”

“That you don’t get to choose.”

Silence.

Your jaw tightened.

But slowly—

“…I don’t get to choose.”

“Again.”

“I don’t get to choose.”

“Louder.”

“I don’t get to choose!”

Sukuna exhaled softly, something satisfied settling into his expression.

“Good.”

His hand slid down your arm—slow, deliberate—leaving your wrist pinned with the other, his touch dragging just enough to make you aware of every inch of contact.

“And yet,” he added quietly, “you still tried.”

Your breath hitched again.

Because this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

His hand reached your jaw again, tilting your face toward him.

Forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You’re going to remember this,” he said.

Not threatening.

Certain.

“You’re going to remember exactly what it feels like to stand here and realize…”

His thumb pressed lightly against your lower lip.

“…that you don’t belong to yourself anymore.”

Your pulse thundered.

Because the way he said it—

the way he looked at you—

made it feel less like a punishment…

and more like a claim.

His gaze dropped briefly, then returned to yours, darker now, heavier with something that hadn’t been there before.

Something that shifted the tension into something sharper.

More dangerous.

“Don’t move,” Sukuna murmured.

The command settled into your bones before you could even think to resist.

And then—

he stepped closer.

Close enough that the space between you disappeared completely. Close enough that you could feel the heat of him, the weight of his presence pressing in from every direction.

Close enough that if you moved even slightly—

you’d close the distance entirely.

His hand hovered for just a second—

like he was deciding something.

Then—

it lowered.

Slow.

Deliberate.

And the air changed again.

Thicker.

Charged.

Unavoidable.

“You’re going to learn,” Sukuna said softly, voice dropping into something far more dangerous now—

“…exactly what choosing me means.”

His large hand moved agonisingly slow—from your shoulder, down and past the curve of your breast, to your hips, and finally to your womanhood. His palm cupped your clothed heat, as he lowered his head down to your neck.

“Ever since you made your decision…”

His voice low. Rough.

“Every inch of you became mine.”

You winced as he bit down on your neck—teeth piercing skin. Not with lust. Not even anger.

Hunger.

The way one would bite into a meal. As if you were something to be consumed.

“Sukuna… you’re hurting me,” you breathed, your palms pressing against his chest in a weak attempt to push him away.

The pain shifted—not gone, but dulled—as he soothed the spot with his mouth, drawing a sharp breath from you. Pain and something dangerously close to pleasure tangled together, leaving your head spinning.

It was…

Electrifying.

And maybe that was why you could never leave him. He gave you a rush no one else ever could.

“You’re gonna take it…”

His voice hardened as he grabbed your hips and turned you around, pressing you firmly against the cold wall. Your breath caught as your back arched slightly under his hold.

“And I’ll remind you again and again… until you understand who you belong to.”

You said nothing. You would never admit it out loud—but you had been craving him for far too long.

Fabric tore under his grip, the sound sharp in the quiet. One of his hands forced your head forward, not enough to truly harm you—but enough to remind you how little control you had.

He inhaled deeply against your hair.

“You can’t ever leave me,” he murmured.

“I won’t… my place is with you.”

That seemed to snap something in him.

“You will always need me,” he said, voice dropping lower. “You’re nothing without me.”

His bulge now pressing into your back, as he grinded against you and massaged your soft breasts.

He dipped his large hand into your panties and began rubbing your damp clit—earning a moan from you.

“Don’t stop—please.” You cried.

He answered with another harsh bite to your neck, marking you without hesitation.

Biting.

Sucking.

Claiming.

A low, frustrated sound left him, like restraint was the only thing keeping him from losing control completely.

His grip tightened, your body responding despite everything—every movement, every touch, sending waves through you that you couldn’t fight. He ripped even your underwear now leaving your entire bottom exposed for his viewing pleasure.

You tried to look back but one of his arms grabbed the back of your head and pushed your face harshly back against the wall.

Without warning he mercilessly thrusted one of his cocks deep into you. No preparation. No grace. No care.

Your entire body recoiled with each harsh thrust. Your face pressing continuously against the wall as his other hands grabbed your breasts and hips.

It hurt—at first. But then it was pure ecstasy, being able to feel him like that. So full. So deep and so rough.

“Yeah, I can see it on your face you like this, huh, you pathetic slut.” He spoke leaning closer to your face.

“Is this what you wanted? To be taken like this?”

You said nothing.

“Answer me!”

“Yes! Yes! Please just don’t stop. I need you so bad.”

He breathed in deep and hard. Almost like he was trying to breathe your entire being in.

“Disgusting. You’re nothing but a cock hungry slut.”

One of his hands left your hip and landing harshly against your ass with a smack. He massaged the soft flesh before spanking you again. Hard enough to make it hurt.

His pace quickened.

Rough.

Careless.

Greedy.

“I’m… I’m close.” You spoke completely out of breath.

“Fuck… you’re so good.” He continued to thrust as he pulled you off the wall and closer to him. His hands wrapped around your body, squeezing hard enough so your back is tight against his chest.

Thrusts relentless and you couldn’t hold back any longer. You released all over him. Your release dripped down your thighs and some against his abdomen.

But he didn’t stop. You were now sensitive and becoming very overstimulated. Your moans became louder and uncontrollable as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.

“Don’t tell me you’re done already?”

You couldn’t even respond. It was too much pleasure for you to handle.

“I’m just getting started.”

⸻

To be continued…

@itxsaphinax @ilovedaddysakuna @lunnesxlunamoon @theatercryer @bl0g-d0ll @household-cryptid

[ssukidoll]

♥︎ rugby player sukuna is so in love with his dolly girlfriend

ryomen sukuna, the biggest and scariest man on the university's rugby team, is dating one of the sweetest looking thing on campus — you. it's truly a wonder how someone like him even bagged someone like you... but the more people see you two, the more they begin to realise just how smitten this brute is with you.

everyday before his practice sessions, his teammates see him standing with you, burly arms wrapped around your frame as he leaves little pecks all across your face. and you're always seen holding a little flower in your hands, one that sukuna had handpicked from some bush for you just so that he can see that pretty smile of yours — it's become routine at this point.

his backpack has a few keychains that you'd bought for him — mostly my melody ones unsurprisingly, since she's your favourite character. he knows that there are some people who side-eye him for that, curious as to why a guy like him walks around with such cute trickets dangling from his bag. but he couldn't care less. you were so adorably happy when you'd bought them for him and when you'd attached them to his bag, he could never have the heart to ever remove the little accessories.

he adores how pink and cutesy you always look — adorning cute skirts and dresses, nails always done with pretty charms glued to them, and smelling like a whole bakery. he stares at you with the most lovelorn eyes known to mankind. it's impossible for him to keep his hands off of you, always finding purchase either on your waist or your buttcheeks. he does also adore teasing you in public, loving how easily flustered you get and how you yell at him like a misbehaved dog. but the smack on your ass is all worth it to him!

he's honestly just turned into a mini you. his clothes all smell like you, sugary and vanilla (though some of them still bear a hint of his own musk). he'll catch himself copying some of the cute phrases you use like 'what the flip?' or 'that's adorbs', saying it with the exact same intonation too. he's even started enjoying the romance animes you've introduced him to, even beginning to suggest shows himself.

sukuna has definitely changed ever since meeting you — going from this hard and brutish man that'd scowl at anyone who looked his way to a man who had softened so much, his teammates and friends finally catch him smile every now and then. of course, he's still rough around the edges, but he's still your dear swine of a boyfriend whom you love to bits!

[coco-jino]

The Things We Do in the Dark

By

Continuation of the forbidden love shared between true form Sukuna and jujutsu sorcerer Y/N!!

Part Three

Part One Part Two

⸻

The shrine had never felt quiet before. Not truly.

There was always something beneath it—something watching, something waiting.

Him.

But tonight, the silence felt… different. Like something was about to break.

“You’re distracted again.” His voice came from behind you this time. Closer than expected.

Your shoulders tensed, but you didn’t turn.

“I’m not.”

A pause.

Then—

a low hum.

“You’re lying.”

Before you could respond, his hand brushed your shoulder—light, almost absent, but enough to send a sharp awareness down your spine. “You keep doing that,” Ryomen Sukuna murmured. “Thinking about things you shouldn’t.”

Your jaw tightened.

“And what exactly am I allowed to think about?”

“Me.”

The answer was immediate. Unapologetic.

You exhaled slowly, forcing your expression to stay neutral.

“You already know I chose you.”

“And yet,” he continued, voice lowering slightly, “your mind still wanders back to him.”

You turned then. “Not everything is about Toji.”

Sukuna’s gaze sharpened.

“Say his name again.”

You didn’t.

Because you recognized the shift—the subtle drop in his tone, the way the air thickened just slightly. Instead, you held his gaze. And that was enough.

For now.

⸻

You felt it before you saw him.

A disturbance in the trees behind you as you filled up a pitcher of water from a stream just behind the shrine.

Faint.

Careful.

But not careful enough.

Sukuna didn’t react immediately.

That was the first warning.

Because when Sukuna chose not to react—

it meant he already knew.

“You should leave.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them.

His eyes flicked to you.

Slowly.

“And why,” he asked, voice almost curious now, “would I do that?”

Your pulse spiked.

Because you couldn’t say it.

Because saying it would confirm everything.

Too late.

A figure stepped into the edge of the clearing.

Silent.

Controlled.

Weapon already in hand.

Toji Fushiguro.

His gaze locked onto your back as you slowly stood up and turned to face him. Heavy pitcher in hand.

“…So this is where you’ve been.”

The words were quiet. But they carried.

Your chest tightened.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Toji’s grip shifted slightly on his weapon. “I figured that out already.”

“Come with me.”

Simple. Direct. Like always. Your throat tightened.

“I’m not leaving.”

Silence.

Then—

“Y/N.”

Not sharp.

Not commanding.

Just certain.

“You don’t belong here.”

The air shifted.

Violently.

Sukuna laughed from behind you as he emerged from the back gate of the shrine.

Low and amused.

“Don’t you?” he murmured, eyes still on you.

Your stomach dropped.

Because you could feel it—

his attention narrowing.

Sharpening.

Watching every reaction.

“I chose this,” you said again. But it sounded different now. Less certain and Toji noticed.

Of course he did.

“He’s in your head,” Toji said flatly. “That’s what this is.”

Sukuna’s smile widened. “You think so?” His voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Or maybe she just knows where she belongs.”

“With you?” Toji shot back.

“Yes.”

The answer was immediate. Final.

And this time—

it wasn’t just words.

Sukuna moved.

Fast.

Closing the distance between you and pulling you back against him, one hand settling at your throat, the other gripping your arm.

Possessive and unapologetic.

A statement.

“Toji Fushiguro,” Sukuna continued, almost conversational now, “breaking into my domain to retrieve something that isn’t his.”

Toji didn’t flinch. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I already have.”

Your breath hitched slightly as Sukuna’s grip tightened—not painfully, but enough to remind you exactly where you stood.

Between them.

And the tension snapped.

Toji moved first.

Steel flashed.

The strike was clean, precise—

and meant to kill.

Sukuna didn’t even step back.

His cursed energy surged, colliding with the attack effortlessly—but for the first time, his focus split.

Not fully.

But enough.

Enough for you to feel it.

This wasn’t a test.

This wasn’t controlled.

This was real.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” you said, voice low, urgent.

“Toji—stop.”

“I’m not leaving you here.” He spoke with desperation.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I do.”

Another strike.

Closer this time.

Faster.

Sukuna’s grip on you tightened sharply as he shifted, pulling you out of the immediate line of attack—but not letting go. Never letting go. “You’re irritating me,” Sukuna said, voice dropping into something far more dangerous.

Toji didn’t respond.

He just moved again.

And this time—

Sukuna moved to end it. You felt it. The shift. The intent. The difference between playing and killing.

And you knew—

Toji wouldn’t survive it.

“Wait—”

Too late.

Sukuna’s cursed energy surged, sharp and devastating, aimed directly—

You moved without thinking.

Your technique snapped into place—

intercepting.

Redirecting.

The force tore past Toji instead of through him, splitting the ground behind him open.

Silence.

Dead.

Heavy.

For a moment—

no one moved.

Then—

Sukuna’s hand tightened violently around your throat. Not enough to kill. But enough to make your breath stutter.

“…You just interfered.” His voice was quiet. Too quiet. Dangerously quiet.

Your pulse pounded.

“He would’ve died.”

“Yes.” The single word landed like a blade. “That was the point.”

Toji’s eyes flicked between you.

Understanding dawning.

“…Y/N.”

“Go,” you said, not looking at him.

“What?”

“GO.”

This time it broke out sharp and desperate.

Before Sukuna could shift his attention again.

Toji hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then—

he moved.

Gone.

Fast.

And the moment he disappeared—

the air collapsed inward.

All of Sukuna’s attention snapped back to you. Fully. Completely. Dangerously. Silence stretched. Long, heavy and unforgiving.

Then—

“…You chose him.”

Your breath caught.

“I didn’t.”

“You protected him.”

“I—”

His grip tightened, cutting you off. “You stood in front of me,” Sukuna said, voice dropping lower with every word, “and chose to save someone who came here to take you away.”

Your chest rose sharply.

“I chose to keep things from getting worse.”

A pause.

Then—

Sukuna laughed.

But there was no amusement in it this time.

“You’re still lying.”

His other hand came up—gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“Say that you don’t care if he lives.”

Your throat tightened.

Silence.

That—

that was your answer.

And Sukuna saw it.

Of course he did.

Something in his expression shifted.

Not anger.

Not exactly.

Something colder. More dangerous.

“I see.” The words were quiet.

His grip loosened—

suddenly.

Enough for you to breathe.

But not enough to step away.

“You made your choice on the battlefield,” he continued.

A pause.

Then, softer—

“But tonight…” His thumb pressed lightly against your pulse again. “…you made another one.”

Your breath shook.

“I didn’t choose him over you.”

“You didn’t have to.”

That was worse. Silence stretched between you. Thick. Unavoidable.

Then—

“Stay.”

The word came suddenly. Sharp. Not a request. A command. Your body didn’t move. Didn’t resist. But your silence lingered just a second too long. And Sukuna noticed. Of course he did.

His hand returned to your throat—slower this time.

Deliberate.

“You don’t get to hesitate anymore,” he said quietly. “Not with me.”

Your pulse thudded beneath his fingers

“Next time,” Sukuna continued, voice dropping to something almost soft—

something far more terrifying—

“…I won’t miss.”

A chill ran through you. Because you believed him.

Because this time—

he wasn’t testing you.

He was warning you.

@ilovedaddysakuna @itxsaphinax @theatercryer @household-cryptid @lunnesxlunamoon @bl0g-d0ll

[coco-jino]

The Things We Do in the Dark

By

Sorcerer Y/N x True Form Sukuna forbidden love continues!!

Part Two

Part One

⸻

You moved.

And the world held its breath.

At first—

no one noticed.

Not the sorcerers.

Not the curses tearing through the battlefield.

Not even Toji Zen’in—

until you didn’t follow him forward.

“Y/N—”

His voice cut sharp, turning back toward you. But you had already stepped away. Not toward him. Not toward the formation.

Toward him.

Across the battlefield, Ryomen Sukuna watched.

Waiting.

Expectant.

Certain.

Each step you took felt louder than the chaos around you. The ground seemed to shift beneath your feet, the air thickening, pulling you forward as if the choice had already been made long before this moment.

Behind you—

“Toji, wait—she’s—”

“Y/N!”

You didn’t stop.

You couldn’t.

Because the second you started, you understood something terrifying:

You were never going to choose them.

Not really.

⸻

When you reached him, the battlefield warped. Sound dulled. Movement slowed. Everything else faded into something distant and irrelevant. Only he remained.

“You took your time.”

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

Like he’d never doubted you for a second.

Your chest rose and fell, uneven.

“I had to make it convincing.”

A pause.

Then—

Sukuna laughed.

Low.

Dark.

Satisfied.

“I told you,” he murmured, stepping closer, “you don’t pretend when you’re with me.”

Your pulse spiked as he reached out—fingers brushing your jaw, slow, deliberate, like he was reacquainting himself with something that belonged to him.

“And yet…” he added softly, eyes flicking briefly past you—toward the battlefield, toward Toji—“…you let him get close.”

The air shifted again.

Colder.

Sharper.

His hand slid from your jaw to your throat in one smooth motion.

Familiar.

Claiming.

Possessive.

“You fought beside him,” Sukuna said, voice dropping. “Listened to him. Let him stand at your back like he had any right.”

Your breath hitched.

“I needed to stay alive.”

“And he was the only way?” he pressed.

You held his gaze.

“Yes.”

Silence.

Then—

his grip tightened.

Not enough to hurt. But enough to remind.

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

A shadow moved in your peripheral vision.

Fast.

Deadly.

Toji.

You barely had time to register it before Sukuna shifted—pulling you slightly behind him without breaking eye contact with you. Like an afterthought. Like you were already accounted for.

Steel met cursed energy.

The impact rang through the air.

Toji landed a few feet away, blade in hand, eyes locked not on Sukuna—

but on you.

“…So it’s true,” he said.

There was no shock in his voice.

Just quiet confirmation.

Your chest tightened.

“Move,” Toji added, sharper now. “Get away from him.”

You didn’t.

Couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Sukuna noticed.

Of course he did.

And slowly—

he smiled.

“There it is,” he murmured, almost pleased. “That look.”

Your breath caught. Because you knew exactly what he meant. The moment where everything became undeniable.

Toji’s gaze hardened.

“He’s using you.”

“And you’re not?” you shot back before you could stop yourself.

That—

that landed.

Silence stretched between the three of you, thick and volatile.

Toji’s grip on his weapon tightened.

“I fight with you,” he said. “I trust you.”

Sukuna’s laugh cut through the moment like a blade.

“Trust?” he echoed, amused. “You think that’s what this is?”

His hand returned to your throat—slow, deliberate, right in front of Toji this time.

Not hidden.

Not subtle.

A statement.

With a sudden pull, rough lips collided with yours. Sukuna’s right upper hand buried itself in your hair, holding your head in place so you couldn’t escape him. The kiss was a claim. You were his. It was a warning to Toji, and a declaration of ownership.

And worst of all, you knew it. You knew there was no such thing as romantic gestures when it came to the King of Curses, and yet you still melted into it like it was everything you had ever needed from this world.

“She came to me long before this battle,” Sukuna continued after pulling away, never loosening his hold on you, his voice now laced with something darker. “Long before your little partnership.”

Toji’s expression didn’t change.

But something in the air did.

“You’re lying.”

“I don’t need to,” Sukuna replied simply.

Your pulse thundered beneath his fingers.

“Tell him,” Sukuna said softly, eyes flicking back to you. “Go on.”

Your throat tightened—not from his grip, but from the weight of it.

“Y/N,” Toji said, quieter now.

Not commanding.

Not sharp.

Just—

certain.

“Look at me.”

You didn’t.

Because if you did—

you might hesitate.

And hesitation, with Sukuna, was dangerous.

“I chose this,” you said instead. The words felt heavier out loud. More final. Toji went still.

“Chose…” he repeated.

“Yes.”

Silence.

Then—

“…You’re making a mistake.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened just slightly at that.

“Careful,” he said, voice dropping. “You’re starting to sound like you think she belongs to you.”

“I don’t,” Toji replied evenly. His gaze flicked briefly to Sukuna’s hand at your throat. “But you clearly think she belongs to you.”

A beat.

Then—

Sukuna smiled.

Sharp.

Unapologetic.

“She does.”

Your breath caught.

And this time—

you didn’t deny it.

⸻

The fight didn’t continue the way it was supposed to. It shattered. Strategies fell apart. Alliances broke.

Because the moment you stepped to Sukuna’s side—

everything changed.

You fought.

Not against him.

With him.

And it was worse than anything they had prepared for. Because you knew their movements. Their plans. Their weaknesses.

And Sukuna—

Sukuna watched you the entire time.

Not the battlefield.

Not the enemies.

You.

Every movement.

Every strike.

Every decision.

Like he was measuring something.

Testing something.

Claiming something.

⸻

That night—

there was no distance between you.

No battlefield. No witnesses. Just the shrine. And him.

“You made your choice.” His voice was quieter now. But no less intense.

You stood across from him, your body still humming with the remnants of the fight.

“Yes.”

“Say it again.”

Your chest tightened.

“I chose you.”

Silence.

Then—

he moved.

Closing the distance in an instant, his hand catching your chin, tilting your face upward.

“Do you understand what that means?” he asked, voice low.

“It means I can’t go back.”

“It means more than that.”

His thumb pressed against your lip—slow, deliberate.

“It means you don’t stand beside anyone else.”

Your breath hitched.

“It means,” he continued, gaze darkening, “no one else gets close to you like that again.”

“Toji—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

The words cut clean.

Final.

His hand slid back to your throat, fingers curling just enough to make your pulse jump.

“If he touches you again,” Sukuna said softly, “I won’t kill him.”

A pause.

Worse.

“I’ll make sure you watch first.”

A chill ran through you.

Sharp.

Real.

But beneath it—

something else.

Something you didn’t want to name.

“You don’t get to be jealous,” you said, quieter now.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“I get to be whatever I want.”

“That’s not fair.”

Sukuna laughed softly.

“You didn’t choose me for fairness.”

No.

You didn’t.

His grip loosened slightly—not releasing you, just easing enough to let you breathe.

“Say it,” he murmured.

“What?”

“That you’re mine.”

Your heart stuttered. You should have refused. You should have fought it.

But instead—

“…I’m yours.”

The words barely left your lips before he pulled you closer. Not gently. Not carefully. But like he’d been waiting for it.

“Good,” Sukuna said against you, voice low, satisfied.

And for the first time—

there was no pretending.

No hiding.

No divided loyalty.

Just something dark.

Dangerous.

And completely irreversible.

To be Continued…

@ilovedaddysakuna @theatercryer @itxsaphinax

[coco-jino]

The Things We Do in the Dark

By

Y/N is a decent enough sorcerer in the Heian era. Her life was simple, obey orders and do whatever it takes to kill the King of Curses. However, her secret love affair with the possessive four armed beast she had sworn was her enemy, might make it a bit more complicated.

Part One

Part Two

⸻

In the Heian era, loyalty was never simple. For a jujutsu sorcerer, it was supposed to be.

Clear.

Defined.

You killed curses.

And above all—you killed him.

Ryomen Sukuna was not just a curse. He was the calamity. The name whispered in strategy meetings, carved into fear, etched into every mission that ended in blood instead of victory. You were supposed to hate him.

And in public—

you did.

⸻

“Again.”

The command cut through the training grounds sharply.

Across from you stood Toji Fushiguro, wooden blade resting lazily against his shoulder, expression unreadable but eyes sharp.

“You hesitated,” he added.

“I didn’t,” you snapped, adjusting your grip.

“You did.”

Before you could argue, he moved.

Fast.

Faster than most sorcerers.

You barely blocked in time, the force of the strike sending a shock through your arms.

“Focus,” Toji said flatly. “If you freeze like that against Sukuna, you’re dead.”

Your jaw tightened.

“I know that.”

“Do you?” he countered, stepping closer, voice lowering slightly. “Because right now, it looks like you’re thinking instead of fighting.”

You pushed him back with a burst of cursed energy.

“I said I know.”

Silence stretched between you for a moment.

Then Toji exhaled through his nose, unimpressed.

“Then prove it.”

You lunged.

⸻

By nightfall, your body ached. Your mind more so. The others had long since retired, the compound quiet, lanterns dimming one by one.

You didn’t go to your room.

Instead—

you left.

⸻

The shrine was hidden deep within the forest, far beyond the reach of ordinary sorcerers. Even those who sensed cursed energy would hesitate before stepping further.

You didn’t hesitate.

You never did.

The moment you crossed into his domain—

you felt him.

That oppressive, suffocating presence wrapped around you like a second skin.

“You’re late.”

His voice came before you saw him.

Low.

Unamused.

You stepped into the clearing, gaze landing on him where he sat—exactly as always, like the world had arranged itself around his existence.

“I was training,” you replied.

A pause.

Then—

“With him.” Not a question.

Your stomach tightened.

“You already know the answer to that.”

Sukuna’s eyes lifted slowly to meet yours.

All of them.

Sharp.

Cold.

And burning with something far more volatile than anger.

“Say it anyway.”

You exhaled once.

“…Yes.”

Silence.

Then he stood.

The shift in the air was immediate—heavy, dangerous, suffocating.

You didn’t move. Even as he closed the distance between you. Even as his presence pressed in, overwhelming, familiar in the worst way.

“Toji Fushiguro,” Sukuna said, voice quiet but edged. “A man with no cursed energy… standing beside you.”

His hand caught your wrist suddenly.

Tight.

Possessive.

“Tell me,” he continued, lifting your arm slightly as if examining something that belonged to him, “why he gets to stand that close.”

Your pulse spiked—but your expression didn’t.

“It’s strategy.”

His grip tightened.

“Don’t insult me.”

“I’m not.”

He stepped closer.

Too close.

“You fight at his side,” Sukuna said, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. “You listen to him. You let him correct you.”

Each word felt like a blade pressing closer.

“And yet,” he added softly, “you come here… and expect me to tolerate that?”

You met his gaze.

Unflinching.

“I don’t expect anything from you.”

That—

that was the wrong answer.

His hand moved from your wrist to your throat in an instant.

Not choking.

Not yet.

But firm enough to remind you exactly who you were speaking to.

“You belong in my domain,” Sukuna said, voice laced with something darker now. “Not at the side of some human who thinks he can touch what’s mine.”

Your breath hitched slightly.

Not from fear.

From the word.

Mine.

“You don’t own me,” you said quietly.

The air stilled.

Dangerously.

Then—

Sukuna smiled.

Slow.

Cruel.

“Say that again.”

You didn’t. Because you knew better.

Because this—

this was the line.

Instead, you held his gaze.

And that, somehow, was worse.

His grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to make your pulse jump beneath his fingers.

“You’re lying to them,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

“You sit in their meetings. You plan my death. You stand beside that man and pretend you want to kill me.”

His thumb pressed lightly against your pulse.

“But when you come here…”

A pause.

His voice dropped, quieter.

“…you don’t pretend.”

Your chest rose slowly.

“Yes,” you admitted.

Silence.

Heavy.

Charged.

Then—

“Good.”

The word came softer than expected. But it didn’t lessen the tension. Because his hand didn’t leave your throat.

“If I ever find out,” Sukuna continued, voice calm now in a way that felt far more dangerous, “that your hesitation today… wasn’t just weakness—”

Your breath caught.

So he had seen.

“—I won’t kill you,” he finished.

A chill ran down your spine. Because that was worse.

“I’ll make sure you regret choosing them first.”

The words settled deep.

Unavoidable.

⸻

“You’re distracted.” Toji’s voice cut through your thoughts the next day. You barely blocked his strike.

Again.

His gaze narrowed.

“This isn’t like you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he said bluntly. “And if you go into a fight like this, you’ll get someone killed.”

Your grip tightened around your weapon.

“Then don’t rely on me.”

Silence.

Then—

“That’s not the problem,” Toji replied, studying you more closely now. “The problem is you’re holding back.”

Your chest tightened.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“And I want to know why.”

For a moment—

just a moment—

you considered telling him.

Everything.

The shrine.

The nights.

The truth.

But then—

you remembered Sukuna’s voice.

You don’t pretend.

Your expression hardened.

“Drop it.”

Toji didn’t move.

Didn’t look away.

But after a long pause—

“…Fine,” he said.

He didn’t believe you.

⸻

That night, you went to the shrine again. Of course you did. You always did.

But this time—

Sukuna didn’t wait.

The moment you stepped into the clearing, you were pulled forward—your back hitting the wooden pillar behind you as his presence closed in instantly.

“You let him question you.”

Your breath caught.

“You hesitated again.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His hand slammed against the pillar beside your head.

Trapping you.

“You think I don’t see it?” he continued, voice low and sharp. “You think I don’t feel the shift in you every time his name comes up?”

“I’m doing what I have to,” you snapped.

“And what is that?” he shot back.

“Surviving.”

The word hung between you.

Raw.

Honest.

For a moment—

neither of you moved.

Then Sukuna leaned in closer. Close enough that his voice dropped into something quieter. Something far more dangerous.

“Then choose.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Because this,” he said, gesturing vaguely between you, “doesn’t exist without consequence.”

His hand moved again—back to your throat, but slower this time.

Intentional.

“If you keep standing beside them,” he continued, “if you keep pretending you want me dead…”

His thumb pressed lightly against your pulse.

“…then one day, you’re going to have to prove it.”

Your breath caught.

“And when that day comes,” Sukuna said softly, “I want to see what you choose.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Final.

Because you both knew—

that day wasn’t far.

⸻

And when it finally came—

it wasn’t quiet.

It wasn’t controlled.

It was chaos.

The battlefield burned, cursed energy tearing through the air, the ground split beneath the force of it. Sorcerers moved in formation. Plans unfolded.

And at the center of it all—

him.

Ryomen Sukuna stood untouched, surrounded by destruction, his presence as overwhelming as ever. You stood at the edge of it. Beside Toji.

“This is it,” he said, eyes locked on Sukuna. “We end this here.”

Your grip tightened.

Your heart pounded.

Because across the battlefield—

Sukuna was already looking at you.

Waiting.

Not for the attack.

For the answer.

Toji stepped forward.

“Stay close.”

You didn’t move.

“Y/N—”

“I know,” you said.

But your feet stayed rooted. Because Sukuna’s voice echoed in your mind.

Then choose.

The battlefield faded.

The noise dulled.

Everything narrowed to one moment.

One decision.

One irreversible line.

Kill him—

and lose whatever this twisted, dangerous thing between you was.

Or stand with him—

and lose everything else.

Sukuna smiled.

Slow.

Expectant.

Like he already knew.

Your breath shook—

just once.

Then—

you moved.

To be continued…