𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓶𝓷 𝓯𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻

"ℑ 𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔡𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡."

[cynosure-gaze]

★♪Coterie♪★

ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔦 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖇𝖎𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔗𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔬𝔣𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰

𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝕴 𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗

_________•••_____•••_________

𝐆𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 | 𝓢𝓱𝓮'𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓭𝓸𝓮 | fiction lover | My Ocs | Where the hell is my husband?!

[cynosure-gaze]

༻𓆪 ⎠⎝ 𓆩༺

𝕯𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖐!𝕳𝖚𝖘𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆

The hot spring bath was steaming when you pushed the sliding doors to the side and peek in only to see your husband submerged in the water. Among the candles planted around, illuminating the room with a warm hue. Crimson eyes dulled, lowered almost in an unguarded way.

With a quiet scoff, you entered closing the doors behind you and making your way to the stone bath tub. Your bare feet feels almost a little warm at the soaked steam on the wooden floors as you make your way towards the centre where the stone bathtub resides.

"you promised to have dinner with me, my lord." You said with a sigh fiddling with the edge of your dark kimono sleeve.

His lowered eyes trailed up to fall on your figure, almost observing you, taking you in. Huge arms propped back against the edge. Water lapping at his torso, droplets sliding down the vast space of his chest.

Your palms start to sweat feeling the heavy gaze dragging over you, heated with something unspoken.

Clearing your throat, your hands clasp together. "I know that you don't care about me. Or this arrangement between us. But the least you could do is have dinne—My lord? Are you even listening?"

He silently lifts his gaze to yours.

Your cheeks warm slightly.

"my lord—"

"Come here." He drawls. His deep voice heavier than usual. "Come to me, petal."

The words stir something warm in your stomach which pools somewhere low. "What?" You whisper uncertainedly.

He moves. The action heavy in a way, Water cutting around his waist, as his upper arm moves up, palm open, stretched towards you without another word.

An invitation?

An offer?

What was it?

You take it anyways.

And that was your first mistake.

You barely had time to react before your footing slipped.

The next thing you knew, his hand was around your waist, pulling you into him as the two of you fell beneath the warm water together. For a heartbeat, everything went quiet. The sounds above disappeared, replaced by the gentle rush of the spring around you.

Still holding you close, he turned with the current instead of fighting it. Your clothes floated weightlessly, brushing against his as your hair drifted around you both. The slow spin drew you closer until it felt as if the water itself had wrapped you together, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm—like two halves of the same whole as you both circled eachother.

His grip never tightened, but it never loosened either.

When your eyes met, neither of you looked away. There was something almost unfair about how close he was, close enough for you to notice the smallest change in his expression, close enough to forget there was an entire world waiting above the surface.

For those few stolen seconds, there was no rush to come up for air. Just the warmth of the spring, the steady pull of the water, and the quiet certainty that he wasn't going to let you go.

His half lidded, relaxed gaze studies you with a different kind of intensity, a new found hunger which makes the blood rush beneath your skin.

"You're intoxicated." You soon understand. "I'll call the servant—"

"No." He cuts you off, tugging you, his lower arms entwining around your waist pulling you even closer. The index finger of his right upper hand plants itself beneath your chin as he lifts it with a single digit. He laughs, low and rough, leaning closer enough so you can feel his breath fanning your face. "Calling the servants?" His lips curled into a crooked grin. "What? You can't handle your own husband?" He tilted his head, eyes half-lidded with drink yet still gleaming with something amused yet heated. "You need servants to handle one drunk man?"

"If you possessed the strength of one man, my lord. I wouldn't need servants." You sighed. "But unfortunately you don't. So I'll have you handled by the servants instead."

"How unfortunate." He drawled or maybe even slurred a little. "So quick to pawn me off on someone else, wife. Must you be so harsh?" He mocks, voice low and sensual enough to make the hairs on your neck rise. "Harsh? I'm simply saying so, because I'm quite sure, that not even an entire village full of many men could collectively compete your strength." You scoffed.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, rich with amusement. Even dulled by the liquor, it carried the unmistakable arrogance.

"Many men?" He scoffed, rolling the words across his tongue as though savoring them. "You flatter me."

His crimson gaze lingered on you, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"And yet..." he murmured, stepping closer despite the unsteady sway of the wine. The water sloshes at his waist. "Of all those men you claim I carry the strength of, not one of them is your husband."

His head tilted, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"So tell me, wife..." His voice dropped into a lazy drawl. "Are you truly incapable of handling one husband? Or are you merely looking for an excuse to send me away?"

The words make you take in a sharp breath. You close your eyes briefly before glancing back up him with a glare.

"Do you take me for a whore, husband?" Sukuna barked out a laugh, deep and unrestrained.

"A whore?"

He rolled the word over his tongue as though it were the most absurd thing he'd heard all evening.

"Look at you." His grin widened. "I tease you once and your mind runs there." His index finger beneath your chin curls, before his thumb traces the line of your bottom lip.

"Tell me, wife..." His voice dripped with amusement. "Who uttered the word first? You... or I?"

When you stare silently, a lazy chuckle escaped him.

"I spoke of handling your husband. You leapt to the bedchamber all on your own." His crimson eyes sparked dully with cruel delight.

"Should I be concerned?" he mused. "Or have I uncovered the only way to make that dignified little composure of yours crumble?"

He clicked his tongue once as if proving how little your worth is.

"What a fragile thing your pride is. One jest, and you've already managed to insult yourself far better than I ever could."

"Watch your tone." You hissed out.

A beat of silence, nothing except the flames of the candles fluttering. The quiet sound of water rippling around you. The warm glow casted on both your skins. As the sound of your breaths was the only thing audible.

And maybe to you? Your own heart beating beneath your chest.

But then, the moment shatters with Sukuna's amused chuckle.

Not too sharp yet enough to make it clear he'd found your warning genuinely entertaining.

"My tone?" The fingers on your chin trail down to rest around your neck. He tilted his head, crimson eyes gleaming beneath heavy lids.

"You've grown bold, have you? hm?" His smile sharpened—twisted into something wicked and sardonic making your blood boil and simmer.

"Tell me..." he drawled, "...which part offended you?"

Your jaw clenched, hard.

He hummed with mock contemplation.

"The part where I laughed at you?" He shrugged. "Or the part where you proved my point?"

Your hands fist beside your sides, digging the nails into your palms as your eyes flared at his words.

Another amused scoff leaves him as he gives your throat an experimental squeeze.

"You threaten to fetch servants because your husband is too much for you to manage."

He looked you over with deliberate slowness before meeting your glare again.

"And then you dare tell me to watch my tongue?"

His grin stretched wider settling somewhere unwelcomed, deep inside your bones.

"You should concern yourself with keeping your composure before you concern yourself with correcting mine."

He leaned back with a dismissive chuckle.

"If my words alone leave you bristling like this..." He said, voice teasing as it drags like salt over your wounds. "...you're far easier to provoke than I'd thought."

Despite the anger which threatens to boil over, you sigh once. Shakily. "I'd call the servants." You said, trying to keep your expression normal. The words left your mouth through gritted teeth. "I hope you have a pleasant evening, my lord."

You float back a little, enough to make his hands fall away, intent on climbing out from the spring as you turn, the water cuts when you move. Your black robes clinging onto your skin.

You made a little more than half a step.

A hand closed around your wrist.

Firm.

Unhurried.

As though there had never been any possibility of you leaving. The water rippled as he drew you back—not violently, but with such effortless strength that resistance felt almost laughable.

"Did I dismiss you?"

His voice had lost its lazy humor.

It was quieter now.

The kind of quiet that demanded attention. You met his stare with one of your own.

"You seem to have forgotten yourself."

A slow grin spread across Sukuna's face. "Ah...no."

His thumb shifted against your wrist. "I think you've forgotten who you're trying to walk away from."

He looked at the hand still caught in his before raising his eyes to yours again.

"You announce your departure..."

A faint scoff escaped him.

"...as though I require your permission to keep you here."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The steam curled between you, blurring everything but his unwavering gaze. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, he smiled—that infuriating, predatory smile.

"Now." His voice was velvet over steel. "Try that farewell again and this time.."

His eyes narrowed with unmistakable amusement.

"...say it like you believe you're leaving." His words make the sick anger in your, churn once more.

"I'm going to call the servants." You snarled each word with deliberate slowness. "Is that genuine enough for you? My lord?"

Sukuna stared at you for a long second before his lips twitched wickedly. A rich, contemptuous laugh that echoed off the stone walls.

"There she is." He says as if he finally achieved what he was aiming for. As if the edge of the arrow had finally sunk into the centre of the board.

His grip never loosened.

"I was beginning to think that polished little smile was all you had." His crimson eyes roamed over your expression, drinking in every ounce of your fury.

"Now that's a face worth looking at." His grin widens.

The words make that treacherous heat rise in your cheeks again.

He leaned in just enough to make it impossible to mistake the challenge in his gaze. "You growl, like a wounded little animal when cornered. You glare...You threaten."

His lips curled into a wicked grin.

"And yet..." He gave your wrist the slightest tug.

"...you're aware that I can snap that delicate neck in a heart beat, if i truly wanted to."

Another amused scoff.

"While if you truly meant to summon them..." His eyes flashed with mocking delight.

"You... would've stopped talking by now and be gone." His smile widened, equal parts arrogant and provoking.

"You're like...a spider."

Sukuna's voice rolled low, laced with lazy amusement.

"A loathsome little pest that spins her webs... then sits at the center, patient as ever." His crimson eyes lingered on you. "Waiting."

His thumb moves above your pulse tugging you closer. "You lure your prey in. Let them believe they've found sanctuary."

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

"Only to ensnare them." His gaze never wavered.

"And when they finally realize they've wandered into your web..." He tilted his head. "It's already too late. You don't kill them quickly." He adds, "No.."

"You let them struggle, you watch. You drain them, thread by thread, until there's nothing left worth saving."

He jerks you, the water sloshes with a loud sound as you a yelp leaves before your drenched chest, wet silk clinging onto your luscious, tempting skin presses against his.

"And every time I tear your precious web apart..." He gave a dismissive scoff. "You crawl right back into the ruins and weave another."

His eyes narrowed with amused disdain.

"Persistent." He drawls, "...Or simply too foolish to learn."

You breath heavier now, gazing up at him. Fierce gaze dulled by another kind of emotion. The same one he made your skin crawl with.

"Call them if you must, wife." He inclined his head at the door way carelessly gesturing at it.

"I'd like to watch you explain why it took an entire household to do what one wife could not."

"I can." You immediately replied. "I can handle you fine, Ryomen Sukuna."

A slow smile crept across Sukuna's face.

"You can?"

He tasted the words as though they amused him, a low chuckle slipping past his lips. "There's that fragile pride again."

His crimson eyes narrowed, studying you as if weighing your conviction. He clicked his tongue.

He took another step making the water lap up your waist, the grin on his face only growing more insufferable.

"You've endured me. Argued with me. Even managed to keep that sharp little tongue in your mouth." His gaze locked onto yours. "But don't flatter yourself into believing that you've managed to tame me, petal."

He tilted his head, his smile almost feral. "If you truly could handle me..." His eyes glinted with cruel amusement.

"...you wouldn't still be trying to prove it."

The words settled between you like a gauntlet cast into still water.

Steam drifted lazily across the spring, veiling the carved stone and softening the world beyond it, but it did nothing to dull the weight of his stare. Sukuna stood before you with that infuriating certainty only he possessed, his fingers still loosely encircling your wrist—not restraining, merely assuming you had nowhere else to be.

Your jaw tightened.

Every smug curl of his mouth, every amused flicker in those crimson eyes, every breath of his quiet laughter seemed to demand the same thing.

Prove me wrong, petal.

A lesser man would've mistaken your silence for defeat. Your husband knew better.

He watched.

Waited.

The corners of his lips lifted another fraction, as though he could already predict your next move and had found it amusing long before you'd made it.

Without breaking eye contact, you stepped into his space.

He simply watched you through heavy-lidded crimson eyes, the haze of drink softening nothing but the edges of his expression.

"You really are cruel, husband. If only you were in your senses."

His gaze narrowed, "I am in my senses, foolish brat."

"Are you?" You asked, voice quiet and uncertain.

And all it takes is the weight of your name, charged with heat and snarled out through his teeth for you to surge up, water cascading down from your dark robes to return to the surface.

As your soft, moist lips crash onto his. Moving with intent. His eyes flutter close as his hands clamp deliciously onto your hips and man-handle them easily, to pin you effortlessly against the edge of the stone bath. He hunches over your form swallowing you whole, his lips slanting over yours with the very same intense hunger you saw in his eyes.

You close your own eyes as you feel him pin your right hand to the edge.

When you drew back, only the smallest breath separated you.

His gaze rested on your face, unblinking, as though committing the moment to memory. Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

Slowly.

Almost imperceptibly.

A rough chuckle escaped him, warm with intoxicated amusement.

His thumb traced an absent circle over your wrist before he leaned in once more, unhurried this time. His forehead hovered near yours, his eyes never leaving yours until, with all the languid confidence of a man who refused to be outdone, he claimed another kiss of his own—brief, deliberate, and every bit as defiant as yours.

Yet enough to steal your breath.

When he finally drew away, it wasn't by much.

The distance between you remained perilously thin, his gaze resting on yours with a curious sort of patience. Wine had left his crimson eyes heavy-lidded, but they hadn't lost their sharpness. If anything, intoxication had only slowed the predator—not dulled it.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he regarded you for another lingering moment, as though weighing whether that kiss had been an act of defiance.

A quiet laugh escaped him. Not mocking. Not kind . Simply... amusement drowned by need.

His thumb shifted lazily where it still circled your wrist. "So." The single word rolled from him like a satisfied hum. "You chose your answer, yes?" He leans closer, the tip of angular nose brushes the moist, delicate skin of your collarbones.

Addictied.

He wanted to get lost in that smooth, gentle texture forever. His eyes lifted to your face before settling back on your own.

"You could've struck me, you could've walked away."

Another slow smile found him.

"But this...?" He brushes his lips against yours making you let out a whimper. He chuckles lowly against your mouth. "How terribly inconvenient for you."

His head tilted, studying the faintest change in your expression with unmistakable delight. The smile deepened—not cruel, but unbearably smug.

"I'll never believe your temper as much as your actions, wife." His lips encase your bottom one, a deep sound rumbling from his chest. "You've made arguing with you far more interesting than I remember."

"Stop at once, Ryomen." You push his face away.

"Is that who I am to you? In that case, I can call you by your title as well. Needy little minx."

A sound protest escapes your throat. "You're doing this on purpose!" You snapped at him.

"Am i? But you're the one who's screaming like a filthy banshee, little wife. How am I the one in fault?"

"Sukuna." You warn,

"Sweet flower." He mocks back, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "Wonder if you're as sweet when i take you apart. Bit by bit."

You shove at his chest with all your might and he voluntarily floats back, cutting the water surface with that gliding motion. Your hair clings onto your flushed skin. Glassy eyes glaring fiercely at him. As you reach for the edge again.

His lower hand grabs your ankle and tugs you back. You snarled at him, kicking your leg free as he only smiles at you with that infuriating amusement. The spring caught you both again. Not enough to pull you apart but enough to turn you slowly, bodies orbiting each other beneath the water. When you settled, he was still there, impossibly close, his reflection fractured beside yours until the two became indistinguishable.

And then the water swallowed every sound between you.

One moment you were glaring at him, the next his hand was firm at the small of your back, drawing you beneath the steaming surface. Bubbles rushed upward as the world blurred into shimmering light.

His lips found yours with relentless certainty—not hurried, not frantic, simply impossible to escape. Time dissolved into the muffled roar of the water, until your lungs burned and instinct forced you to push against his chest.

Only then did he relent.

You broke through the surface with a sharp gasp, water cascading down your face as you fought to steady your breathing. Behind you, Sukuna surfaced far more leisurely, crimson eyes half-lidded, a faint, infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth.

"As expected," he murmured, brushing a droplet from your cheek, "you lose first."

"What is the matter with you?!" You breathlessly hiss at him. Eyes wide.

Beautifully sharp with anger.

He only dips his head, tilting it mid way. Your fingers press against his lips. "Sukuna." His name escapes your lips in a softer warning this time. "You've lost your mind."

His gaze lifts to meet your eyes once before flickering to your lips. He didn't close the distance all at once. It disappeared in fragments—a breath, another heartbeat, the faint brush of your noses. By the time your lips finally met, it felt less like a decision and more like something the water had been carrying you toward from the very beginning.

You part first.

The next inhale wasn't entirely your own. It mingled with his, warm against your mouth, close enough that speaking would've meant brushing lips anyway.

"You're still intoxicated." The words slipping from your lips are all devoid of the breath he had stolen. "You're not in your senses, you'll regret this when you're sober."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. His crimson eyes never left yours.

"Intoxicated?" he echoed, amusement curling at the corner of his mouth.

His thumb brushed your cheek, surprisingly steady. "Careful."

"I've got enough sense to know exactly who I'm looking at."

He tilted his head, a smug smile tugging across his face. "Enough sense to leave this body of yours pathetic and trembling for me." His lower left palm grabs handfull of the pudge flesh behind your thigh as you moan, while he parts them. "And enough sense to leave my mark on you, wife."

With that he sinks his canines onto the juncture of your neck making your hips buck up just right with a cry.

He licks near the bruise, pressing a kiss beneath your ear. "Feels good?" He cooed while practically making you melt in his arms.

Your moist lips part as a shaky whimper escapes you when his lower right hand begins working you beneath your sodden robes. Your hair strands cling to your chest, your collar bones, your neck, the soft space of your flushed cheek and forehead.

He only takes you in, dragging his own lips—tracing and mapping your skin. His calloused fingers gently caressing the hairs away. He studies every minute expression on your face. The soft arch of your brows, the slope of your nose, the way the colour of your eyes reflect the warm glow of the small flames.

Ethereal.

His.

What is he thinking? Why is he thinking? He should just leave devour you.

This is because of intoxication.

Or maybe the intoxication just ignited the fire, he tried to extinguish within him?

Love is worthless.

Love is a lie, a decieve, a cheat.

You are too, just like love yet he cannot retreat.

His face twists in a snarl.

Why do you care for her?

Why?

Kill her, rip her soft heart out.

His fingers only plunge deeper, tugging and curling at your sweet spot, as your voice sings and chants his name.

Steal her voice, before you bottle it as your next intoxication.

He buries his face in the soft valley of your chest pressing sloppy kisses.

Tear through her flesh, feast on it.

His lips only manage to paint bruises on them. Marking every inch.

Her hair, slash it all before your hands manage to caress them.

His fingers lose themselves between the drenched strands.

Like the finest silk of them all.

Your face buries itself inside his chest with a shuddering cry as he cradles you close till the high leaves your body.

Exhausted, you plant your cheek against one pectoral and look up at him, all droopy and senseless.

His face hardens before he tucks that one last strand curling against your cheek behind your ear.

You've managed to melt him at last. He ponders quietly. Make him a prisoner shackled by your name.

I hope you guys enjoy what i cooked. First time writting Sukuna. I'm kinda nervous. Alsooo it's not proof read.

Dividers ain't mine except the Sukuna one. The pictures were taken from @luvrgrl-222 @xxnghtclls and @continuumh @kcocaine

[after-laughter-come-tears]

I present to thee, Sukuna Arranged/Forced Marriage Masterlist

1. Curse of the Mind, Body, and Soul

2. The Shrine Master's Bride by @gutouhua

3. Is It Really Peace?

4. Damned to Love You

5. Beneath The Silk by @phyx-m ❤️‍🔥

7. Chosen by the King by @aaron-m-geist-ff

8. you're expecting sukuna's child, the underworld crime king by @zarameraki

10. Experience Shapes Perception by @decagondice

13. A garden among thorns by @tender-rosiey

14. Cursed Promises by @madamechrissy

15. Just Today by loijkiupo

16. Irori by Lafaiette @lafaiette 💖

17. His to Ruin by @honeyyyblue

18, Me and my husband by @sukunasun (Chubby reader😩👌💕)

19. Worthless Love by @Elizabeth_Lynn_05

20. Malevolence in Spring by @w0rm3y

21. He's (not) my man by @indiewritesxoxo

[cynosure-gaze]

Hey, I've been trying to get in touch with you but keep running into technical issues. There's something sensitive I need to discuss could we move this to private messages?

Uhm go on?

[cynosure-gaze]

༻𓆪 ⎠⎝ 𓆩༺

𝕯𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖐!𝕳𝖚𝖘𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆

The hot spring bath was steaming when you pushed the sliding doors to the side and peek in only to see your husband submerged in the water. Among the candles planted around, illuminating the room with a warm hue. Crimson eyes dulled, lowered almost in an unguarded way.

With a quiet scoff, you entered closing the doors behind you and making your way to the stone bath tub. Your bare feet feels almost a little warm at the soaked steam on the wooden floors as you make your way towards the centre where the stone bathtub resides.

"you promised to have dinner with me, my lord." You said with a sigh fiddling with the edge of your dark kimono sleeve.

His lowered eyes trailed up to fall on your figure, almost observing you, taking you in. Huge arms propped back against the edge. Water lapping at his torso, droplets sliding down the vast space of his chest.

Your palms start to sweat feeling the heavy gaze dragging over you, heated with something unspoken.

Clearing your throat, your hands clasp together. "I know that you don't care about me. Or this arrangement between us. But the least you could do is have dinne—My lord? Are you even listening?"

He silently lifts his gaze to yours.

Your cheeks warm slightly.

"my lord—"

"Come here." He drawls. His deep voice heavier than usual. "Come to me, petal."

The words stir something warm in your stomach which pools somewhere low. "What?" You whisper uncertainedly.

He moves. The action heavy in a way, Water cutting around his waist, as his upper arm moves up, palm open, stretched towards you without another word.

An invitation?

An offer?

What was it?

You take it anyways.

And that was your first mistake.

You barely had time to react before your footing slipped.

The next thing you knew, his hand was around your waist, pulling you into him as the two of you fell beneath the warm water together. For a heartbeat, everything went quiet. The sounds above disappeared, replaced by the gentle rush of the spring around you.

Still holding you close, he turned with the current instead of fighting it. Your clothes floated weightlessly, brushing against his as your hair drifted around you both. The slow spin drew you closer until it felt as if the water itself had wrapped you together, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm—like two halves of the same whole as you both circled eachother.

His grip never tightened, but it never loosened either.

When your eyes met, neither of you looked away. There was something almost unfair about how close he was, close enough for you to notice the smallest change in his expression, close enough to forget there was an entire world waiting above the surface.

For those few stolen seconds, there was no rush to come up for air. Just the warmth of the spring, the steady pull of the water, and the quiet certainty that he wasn't going to let you go.

His half lidded, relaxed gaze studies you with a different kind of intensity, a new found hunger which makes the blood rush beneath your skin.

"You're intoxicated." You soon understand. "I'll call the servant—"

"No." He cuts you off, tugging you, his lower arms entwining around your waist pulling you even closer. The index finger of his right upper hand plants itself beneath your chin as he lifts it with a single digit. He laughs, low and rough, leaning closer enough so you can feel his breath fanning your face. "Calling the servants?" His lips curled into a crooked grin. "What? You can't handle your own husband?" He tilted his head, eyes half-lidded with drink yet still gleaming with something amused yet heated. "You need servants to handle one drunk man?"

"If you possessed the strength of one man, my lord. I wouldn't need servants." You sighed. "But unfortunately you don't. So I'll have you handled by the servants instead."

"How unfortunate." He drawled or maybe even slurred a little. "So quick to pawn me off on someone else, wife. Must you be so harsh?" He mocks, voice low and sensual enough to make the hairs on your neck rise. "Harsh? I'm simply saying so, because I'm quite sure, that not even an entire village full of many men could collectively compete your strength." You scoffed.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, rich with amusement. Even dulled by the liquor, it carried the unmistakable arrogance.

"Many men?" He scoffed, rolling the words across his tongue as though savoring them. "You flatter me."

His crimson gaze lingered on you, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"And yet..." he murmured, stepping closer despite the unsteady sway of the wine. The water sloshes at his waist. "Of all those men you claim I carry the strength of, not one of them is your husband."

His head tilted, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"So tell me, wife..." His voice dropped into a lazy drawl. "Are you truly incapable of handling one husband? Or are you merely looking for an excuse to send me away?"

The words make you take in a sharp breath. You close your eyes briefly before glancing back up him with a glare.

"Do you take me for a whore, husband?" Sukuna barked out a laugh, deep and unrestrained.

"A whore?"

He rolled the word over his tongue as though it were the most absurd thing he'd heard all evening.

"Look at you." His grin widened. "I tease you once and your mind runs there." His index finger beneath your chin curls, before his thumb traces the line of your bottom lip.

"Tell me, wife..." His voice dripped with amusement. "Who uttered the word first? You... or I?"

When you stare silently, a lazy chuckle escaped him.

"I spoke of handling your husband. You leapt to the bedchamber all on your own." His crimson eyes sparked dully with cruel delight.

"Should I be concerned?" he mused. "Or have I uncovered the only way to make that dignified little composure of yours crumble?"

He clicked his tongue once as if proving how little your worth is.

"What a fragile thing your pride is. One jest, and you've already managed to insult yourself far better than I ever could."

"Watch your tone." You hissed out.

A beat of silence, nothing except the flames of the candles fluttering. The quiet sound of water rippling around you. The warm glow casted on both your skins. As the sound of your breaths was the only thing audible.

And maybe to you? Your own heart beating beneath your chest.

But then, the moment shatters with Sukuna's amused chuckle.

Not too sharp yet enough to make it clear he'd found your warning genuinely entertaining.

"My tone?" The fingers on your chin trail down to rest around your neck. He tilted his head, crimson eyes gleaming beneath heavy lids.

"You've grown bold, have you? hm?" His smile sharpened—twisted into something wicked and sardonic making your blood boil and simmer.

"Tell me..." he drawled, "...which part offended you?"

Your jaw clenched, hard.

He hummed with mock contemplation.

"The part where I laughed at you?" He shrugged. "Or the part where you proved my point?"

Your hands fist beside your sides, digging the nails into your palms as your eyes flared at his words.

Another amused scoff leaves him as he gives your throat an experimental squeeze.

"You threaten to fetch servants because your husband is too much for you to manage."

He looked you over with deliberate slowness before meeting your glare again.

"And then you dare tell me to watch my tongue?"

His grin stretched wider settling somewhere unwelcomed, deep inside your bones.

"You should concern yourself with keeping your composure before you concern yourself with correcting mine."

He leaned back with a dismissive chuckle.

"If my words alone leave you bristling like this..." He said, voice teasing as it drags like salt over your wounds. "...you're far easier to provoke than I'd thought."

Despite the anger which threatens to boil over, you sigh once. Shakily. "I'd call the servants." You said, trying to keep your expression normal. The words left your mouth through gritted teeth. "I hope you have a pleasant evening, my lord."

You float back a little, enough to make his hands fall away, intent on climbing out from the spring as you turn, the water cuts when you move. Your black robes clinging onto your skin.

You made a little more than half a step.

A hand closed around your wrist.

Firm.

Unhurried.

As though there had never been any possibility of you leaving. The water rippled as he drew you back—not violently, but with such effortless strength that resistance felt almost laughable.

"Did I dismiss you?"

His voice had lost its lazy humor.

It was quieter now.

The kind of quiet that demanded attention. You met his stare with one of your own.

"You seem to have forgotten yourself."

A slow grin spread across Sukuna's face. "Ah...no."

His thumb shifted against your wrist. "I think you've forgotten who you're trying to walk away from."

He looked at the hand still caught in his before raising his eyes to yours again.

"You announce your departure..."

A faint scoff escaped him.

"...as though I require your permission to keep you here."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The steam curled between you, blurring everything but his unwavering gaze. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, he smiled—that infuriating, predatory smile.

"Now." His voice was velvet over steel. "Try that farewell again and this time.."

His eyes narrowed with unmistakable amusement.

"...say it like you believe you're leaving." His words make the sick anger in your, churn once more.

"I'm going to call the servants." You snarled each word with deliberate slowness. "Is that genuine enough for you? My lord?"

Sukuna stared at you for a long second before his lips twitched wickedly. A rich, contemptuous laugh that echoed off the stone walls.

"There she is." He says as if he finally achieved what he was aiming for. As if the edge of the arrow had finally sunk into the centre of the board.

His grip never loosened.

"I was beginning to think that polished little smile was all you had." His crimson eyes roamed over your expression, drinking in every ounce of your fury.

"Now that's a face worth looking at." His grin widens.

The words make that treacherous heat rise in your cheeks again.

He leaned in just enough to make it impossible to mistake the challenge in his gaze. "You growl, like a wounded little animal when cornered. You glare...You threaten."

His lips curled into a wicked grin.

"And yet..." He gave your wrist the slightest tug.

"...you're aware that I can snap that delicate neck in a heart beat, if i truly wanted to."

Another amused scoff.

"While if you truly meant to summon them..." His eyes flashed with mocking delight.

"You... would've stopped talking by now and be gone." His smile widened, equal parts arrogant and provoking.

"You're like...a spider."

Sukuna's voice rolled low, laced with lazy amusement.

"A loathsome little pest that spins her webs... then sits at the center, patient as ever." His crimson eyes lingered on you. "Waiting."

His thumb moves above your pulse tugging you closer. "You lure your prey in. Let them believe they've found sanctuary."

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

"Only to ensnare them." His gaze never wavered.

"And when they finally realize they've wandered into your web..." He tilted his head. "It's already too late. You don't kill them quickly." He adds, "No.."

"You let them struggle, you watch. You drain them, thread by thread, until there's nothing left worth saving."

He jerks you, the water sloshes with a loud sound as you a yelp leaves before your drenched chest, wet silk clinging onto your luscious, tempting skin presses against his.

"And every time I tear your precious web apart..." He gave a dismissive scoff. "You crawl right back into the ruins and weave another."

His eyes narrowed with amused disdain.

"Persistent." He drawls, "...Or simply too foolish to learn."

You breath heavier now, gazing up at him. Fierce gaze dulled by another kind of emotion. The same one he made your skin crawl with.

"Call them if you must, wife." He inclined his head at the door way carelessly gesturing at it.

"I'd like to watch you explain why it took an entire household to do what one wife could not."

"I can." You immediately replied. "I can handle you fine, Ryomen Sukuna."

A slow smile crept across Sukuna's face.

"You can?"

He tasted the words as though they amused him, a low chuckle slipping past his lips. "There's that fragile pride again."

His crimson eyes narrowed, studying you as if weighing your conviction. He clicked his tongue.

He took another step making the water lap up your waist, the grin on his face only growing more insufferable.

"You've endured me. Argued with me. Even managed to keep that sharp little tongue in your mouth." His gaze locked onto yours. "But don't flatter yourself into believing that you've managed to tame me, petal."

He tilted his head, his smile almost feral. "If you truly could handle me..." His eyes glinted with cruel amusement.

"...you wouldn't still be trying to prove it."

The words settled between you like a gauntlet cast into still water.

Steam drifted lazily across the spring, veiling the carved stone and softening the world beyond it, but it did nothing to dull the weight of his stare. Sukuna stood before you with that infuriating certainty only he possessed, his fingers still loosely encircling your wrist—not restraining, merely assuming you had nowhere else to be.

Your jaw tightened.

Every smug curl of his mouth, every amused flicker in those crimson eyes, every breath of his quiet laughter seemed to demand the same thing.

Prove me wrong, petal.

A lesser man would've mistaken your silence for defeat. Your husband knew better.

He watched.

Waited.

The corners of his lips lifted another fraction, as though he could already predict your next move and had found it amusing long before you'd made it.

Without breaking eye contact, you stepped into his space.

He simply watched you through heavy-lidded crimson eyes, the haze of drink softening nothing but the edges of his expression.

"You really are cruel, husband. If only you were in your senses."

His gaze narrowed, "I am in my senses, foolish brat."

"Are you?" You asked, voice quiet and uncertain.

And all it takes is the weight of your name, charged with heat and snarled out through his teeth for you to surge up, water cascading down from your dark robes to return to the surface.

As your soft, moist lips crash onto his. Moving with intent. His eyes flutter close as his hands clamp deliciously onto your hips and man-handle them easily, to pin you effortlessly against the edge of the stone bath. He hunches over your form swallowing you whole, his lips slanting over yours with the very same intense hunger you saw in his eyes.

You close your own eyes as you feel him pin your right hand to the edge.

When you drew back, only the smallest breath separated you.

His gaze rested on your face, unblinking, as though committing the moment to memory. Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

Slowly.

Almost imperceptibly.

A rough chuckle escaped him, warm with intoxicated amusement.

His thumb traced an absent circle over your wrist before he leaned in once more, unhurried this time. His forehead hovered near yours, his eyes never leaving yours until, with all the languid confidence of a man who refused to be outdone, he claimed another kiss of his own—brief, deliberate, and every bit as defiant as yours.

Yet enough to steal your breath.

When he finally drew away, it wasn't by much.

The distance between you remained perilously thin, his gaze resting on yours with a curious sort of patience. Wine had left his crimson eyes heavy-lidded, but they hadn't lost their sharpness. If anything, intoxication had only slowed the predator—not dulled it.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he regarded you for another lingering moment, as though weighing whether that kiss had been an act of defiance.

A quiet laugh escaped him. Not mocking. Not kind . Simply... amusement drowned by need.

His thumb shifted lazily where it still circled your wrist. "So." The single word rolled from him like a satisfied hum. "You chose your answer, yes?" He leans closer, the tip of angular nose brushes the moist, delicate skin of your collarbones.

Addictied.

He wanted to get lost in that smooth, gentle texture forever. His eyes lifted to your face before settling back on your own.

"You could've struck me, you could've walked away."

Another slow smile found him.

"But this...?" He brushes his lips against yours making you let out a whimper. He chuckles lowly against your mouth. "How terribly inconvenient for you."

His head tilted, studying the faintest change in your expression with unmistakable delight. The smile deepened—not cruel, but unbearably smug.

"I'll never believe your temper as much as your actions, wife." His lips encase your bottom one, a deep sound rumbling from his chest. "You've made arguing with you far more interesting than I remember."

"Stop at once, Ryomen." You push his face away.

"Is that who I am to you? In that case, I can call you by your title as well. Needy little minx."

A sound protest escapes your throat. "You're doing this on purpose!" You snapped at him.

"Am i? But you're the one who's screaming like a filthy banshee, little wife. How am I the one in fault?"

"Sukuna." You warn,

"Sweet flower." He mocks back, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "Wonder if you're as sweet when i take you apart. Bit by bit."

You shove at his chest with all your might and he voluntarily floats back, cutting the water surface with that gliding motion. Your hair clings onto your flushed skin. Glassy eyes glaring fiercely at him. As you reach for the edge again.

His lower hand grabs your ankle and tugs you back. You snarled at him, kicking your leg free as he only smiles at you with that infuriating amusement. The spring caught you both again. Not enough to pull you apart but enough to turn you slowly, bodies orbiting each other beneath the water. When you settled, he was still there, impossibly close, his reflection fractured beside yours until the two became indistinguishable.

And then the water swallowed every sound between you.

One moment you were glaring at him, the next his hand was firm at the small of your back, drawing you beneath the steaming surface. Bubbles rushed upward as the world blurred into shimmering light.

His lips found yours with relentless certainty—not hurried, not frantic, simply impossible to escape. Time dissolved into the muffled roar of the water, until your lungs burned and instinct forced you to push against his chest.

Only then did he relent.

You broke through the surface with a sharp gasp, water cascading down your face as you fought to steady your breathing. Behind you, Sukuna surfaced far more leisurely, crimson eyes half-lidded, a faint, infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth.

"As expected," he murmured, brushing a droplet from your cheek, "you lose first."

"What is the matter with you?!" You breathlessly hiss at him. Eyes wide.

Beautifully sharp with anger.

He only dips his head, tilting it mid way. Your fingers press against his lips. "Sukuna." His name escapes your lips in a softer warning this time. "You've lost your mind."

His gaze lifts to meet your eyes once before flickering to your lips. He didn't close the distance all at once. It disappeared in fragments—a breath, another heartbeat, the faint brush of your noses. By the time your lips finally met, it felt less like a decision and more like something the water had been carrying you toward from the very beginning.

You part first.

The next inhale wasn't entirely your own. It mingled with his, warm against your mouth, close enough that speaking would've meant brushing lips anyway.

"You're still intoxicated." The words slipping from your lips are all devoid of the breath he had stolen. "You're not in your senses, you'll regret this when you're sober."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. His crimson eyes never left yours.

"Intoxicated?" he echoed, amusement curling at the corner of his mouth.

His thumb brushed your cheek, surprisingly steady. "Careful."

"I've got enough sense to know exactly who I'm looking at."

He tilted his head, a smug smile tugging across his face. "Enough sense to leave this body of yours pathetic and trembling for me." His lower left palm grabs handfull of the pudge flesh behind your thigh as you moan, while he parts them. "And enough sense to leave my mark on you, wife."

With that he sinks his canines onto the juncture of your neck making your hips buck up just right with a cry.

He licks near the bruise, pressing a kiss beneath your ear. "Feels good?" He cooed while practically making you melt in his arms.

Your moist lips part as a shaky whimper escapes you when his lower right hand begins working you beneath your sodden robes. Your hair strands cling to your chest, your collar bones, your neck, the soft space of your flushed cheek and forehead.

He only takes you in, dragging his own lips—tracing and mapping your skin. His calloused fingers gently caressing the hairs away. He studies every minute expression on your face. The soft arch of your brows, the slope of your nose, the way the colour of your eyes reflect the warm glow of the small flames.

Ethereal.

His.

What is he thinking? Why is he thinking? He should just leave devour you.

This is because of intoxication.

Or maybe the intoxication just ignited the fire, he tried to extinguish within him?

Love is worthless.

Love is a lie, a decieve, a cheat.

You are too, just like love yet he cannot retreat.

His face twists in a snarl.

Why do you care for her?

Why?

Kill her, rip her soft heart out.

His fingers only plunge deeper, tugging and curling at your sweet spot, as your voice sings and chants his name.

Steal her voice, before you bottle it as your next intoxication.

He buries his face in the soft valley of your chest pressing sloppy kisses.

Tear through her flesh, feast on it.

His lips only manage to paint bruises on them. Marking every inch.

Her hair, slash it all before your hands manage to caress them.

His fingers lose themselves between the drenched strands.

Like the finest silk of them all.

Your face buries itself inside his chest with a shuddering cry as he cradles you close till the high leaves your body.

Exhausted, you plant your cheek against one pectoral and look up at him, all droopy and senseless.

His face hardens before he tucks that one last strand curling against your cheek behind your ear.

You've managed to melt him at last. He ponders quietly. Make him a prisoner shackled by your name.

I hope you guys enjoy what i cooked. First time writting Sukuna. I'm kinda nervous. Alsooo it's not proof read.

Dividers ain't mine except the Sukuna one. The pictures were taken from @luvrgrl-222 @xxnghtclls and @continuumh @kcocaine

[cynosure-gaze]

༻𓆪 ⎠⎝ 𓆩༺

𝕯𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖐!𝕳𝖚𝖘𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆

The hot spring bath was steaming when you pushed the sliding doors to the side and peek in only to see your husband submerged in the water. Among the candles planted around, illuminating the room with a warm hue. Crimson eyes dulled, lowered almost in an unguarded way.

With a quiet scoff, you entered closing the doors behind you and making your way to the stone bath tub. Your bare feet feels almost a little warm at the soaked steam on the wooden floors as you make your way towards the centre where the stone bathtub resides.

"you promised to have dinner with me, my lord." You said with a sigh fiddling with the edge of your dark kimono sleeve.

His lowered eyes trailed up to fall on your figure, almost observing you, taking you in. Huge arms propped back against the edge. Water lapping at his torso, droplets sliding down the vast space of his chest.

Your palms start to sweat feeling the heavy gaze dragging over you, heated with something unspoken.

Clearing your throat, your hands clasp together. "I know that you don't care about me. Or this arrangement between us. But the least you could do is have dinne—My lord? Are you even listening?"

He silently lifts his gaze to yours.

Your cheeks warm slightly.

"my lord—"

"Come here." He drawls. His deep voice heavier than usual. "Come to me, petal."

The words stir something warm in your stomach which pools somewhere low. "What?" You whisper uncertainedly.

He moves. The action heavy in a way, Water cutting around his waist, as his upper arm moves up, palm open, stretched towards you without another word.

An invitation?

An offer?

What was it?

You take it anyways.

And that was your first mistake.

You barely had time to react before your footing slipped.

The next thing you knew, his hand was around your waist, pulling you into him as the two of you fell beneath the warm water together. For a heartbeat, everything went quiet. The sounds above disappeared, replaced by the gentle rush of the spring around you.

Still holding you close, he turned with the current instead of fighting it. Your clothes floated weightlessly, brushing against his as your hair drifted around you both. The slow spin drew you closer until it felt as if the water itself had wrapped you together, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm—like two halves of the same whole as you both circled eachother.

His grip never tightened, but it never loosened either.

When your eyes met, neither of you looked away. There was something almost unfair about how close he was, close enough for you to notice the smallest change in his expression, close enough to forget there was an entire world waiting above the surface.

For those few stolen seconds, there was no rush to come up for air. Just the warmth of the spring, the steady pull of the water, and the quiet certainty that he wasn't going to let you go.

His half lidded, relaxed gaze studies you with a different kind of intensity, a new found hunger which makes the blood rush beneath your skin.

"You're intoxicated." You soon understand. "I'll call the servant—"

"No." He cuts you off, tugging you, his lower arms entwining around your waist pulling you even closer. The index finger of his right upper hand plants itself beneath your chin as he lifts it with a single digit. He laughs, low and rough, leaning closer enough so you can feel his breath fanning your face. "Calling the servants?" His lips curled into a crooked grin. "What? You can't handle your own husband?" He tilted his head, eyes half-lidded with drink yet still gleaming with something amused yet heated. "You need servants to handle one drunk man?"

"If you possessed the strength of one man, my lord. I wouldn't need servants." You sighed. "But unfortunately you don't. So I'll have you handled by the servants instead."

"How unfortunate." He drawled or maybe even slurred a little. "So quick to pawn me off on someone else, wife. Must you be so harsh?" He mocks, voice low and sensual enough to make the hairs on your neck rise. "Harsh? I'm simply saying so, because I'm quite sure, that not even an entire village full of many men could collectively compete your strength." You scoffed.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, rich with amusement. Even dulled by the liquor, it carried the unmistakable arrogance.

"Many men?" He scoffed, rolling the words across his tongue as though savoring them. "You flatter me."

His crimson gaze lingered on you, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"And yet..." he murmured, stepping closer despite the unsteady sway of the wine. The water sloshes at his waist. "Of all those men you claim I carry the strength of, not one of them is your husband."

His head tilted, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"So tell me, wife..." His voice dropped into a lazy drawl. "Are you truly incapable of handling one husband? Or are you merely looking for an excuse to send me away?"

The words make you take in a sharp breath. You close your eyes briefly before glancing back up him with a glare.

"Do you take me for a whore, husband?" Sukuna barked out a laugh, deep and unrestrained.

"A whore?"

He rolled the word over his tongue as though it were the most absurd thing he'd heard all evening.

"Look at you." His grin widened. "I tease you once and your mind runs there." His index finger beneath your chin curls, before his thumb traces the line of your bottom lip.

"Tell me, wife..." His voice dripped with amusement. "Who uttered the word first? You... or I?"

When you stare silently, a lazy chuckle escaped him.

"I spoke of handling your husband. You leapt to the bedchamber all on your own." His crimson eyes sparked dully with cruel delight.

"Should I be concerned?" he mused. "Or have I uncovered the only way to make that dignified little composure of yours crumble?"

He clicked his tongue once as if proving how little your worth is.

"What a fragile thing your pride is. One jest, and you've already managed to insult yourself far better than I ever could."

"Watch your tone." You hissed out.

A beat of silence, nothing except the flames of the candles fluttering. The quiet sound of water rippling around you. The warm glow casted on both your skins. As the sound of your breaths was the only thing audible.

And maybe to you? Your own heart beating beneath your chest.

But then, the moment shatters with Sukuna's amused chuckle.

Not too sharp yet enough to make it clear he'd found your warning genuinely entertaining.

"My tone?" The fingers on your chin trail down to rest around your neck. He tilted his head, crimson eyes gleaming beneath heavy lids.

"You've grown bold, have you? hm?" His smile sharpened—twisted into something wicked and sardonic making your blood boil and simmer.

"Tell me..." he drawled, "...which part offended you?"

Your jaw clenched, hard.

He hummed with mock contemplation.

"The part where I laughed at you?" He shrugged. "Or the part where you proved my point?"

Your hands fist beside your sides, digging the nails into your palms as your eyes flared at his words.

Another amused scoff leaves him as he gives your throat an experimental squeeze.

"You threaten to fetch servants because your husband is too much for you to manage."

He looked you over with deliberate slowness before meeting your glare again.

"And then you dare tell me to watch my tongue?"

His grin stretched wider settling somewhere unwelcomed, deep inside your bones.

"You should concern yourself with keeping your composure before you concern yourself with correcting mine."

He leaned back with a dismissive chuckle.

"If my words alone leave you bristling like this..." He said, voice teasing as it drags like salt over your wounds. "...you're far easier to provoke than I'd thought."

Despite the anger which threatens to boil over, you sigh once. Shakily. "I'd call the servants." You said, trying to keep your expression normal. The words left your mouth through gritted teeth. "I hope you have a pleasant evening, my lord."

You float back a little, enough to make his hands fall away, intent on climbing out from the spring as you turn, the water cuts when you move. Your black robes clinging onto your skin.

You made a little more than half a step.

A hand closed around your wrist.

Firm.

Unhurried.

As though there had never been any possibility of you leaving. The water rippled as he drew you back—not violently, but with such effortless strength that resistance felt almost laughable.

"Did I dismiss you?"

His voice had lost its lazy humor.

It was quieter now.

The kind of quiet that demanded attention. You met his stare with one of your own.

"You seem to have forgotten yourself."

A slow grin spread across Sukuna's face. "Ah...no."

His thumb shifted against your wrist. "I think you've forgotten who you're trying to walk away from."

He looked at the hand still caught in his before raising his eyes to yours again.

"You announce your departure..."

A faint scoff escaped him.

"...as though I require your permission to keep you here."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The steam curled between you, blurring everything but his unwavering gaze. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, he smiled—that infuriating, predatory smile.

"Now." His voice was velvet over steel. "Try that farewell again and this time.."

His eyes narrowed with unmistakable amusement.

"...say it like you believe you're leaving." His words make the sick anger in your, churn once more.

"I'm going to call the servants." You snarled each word with deliberate slowness. "Is that genuine enough for you? My lord?"

Sukuna stared at you for a long second before his lips twitched wickedly. A rich, contemptuous laugh that echoed off the stone walls.

"There she is." He says as if he finally achieved what he was aiming for. As if the edge of the arrow had finally sunk into the centre of the board.

His grip never loosened.

"I was beginning to think that polished little smile was all you had." His crimson eyes roamed over your expression, drinking in every ounce of your fury.

"Now that's a face worth looking at." His grin widens.

The words make that treacherous heat rise in your cheeks again.

He leaned in just enough to make it impossible to mistake the challenge in his gaze. "You growl, like a wounded little animal when cornered. You glare...You threaten."

His lips curled into a wicked grin.

"And yet..." He gave your wrist the slightest tug.

"...you're aware that I can snap that delicate neck in a heart beat, if i truly wanted to."

Another amused scoff.

"While if you truly meant to summon them..." His eyes flashed with mocking delight.

"You... would've stopped talking by now and be gone." His smile widened, equal parts arrogant and provoking.

"You're like...a spider."

Sukuna's voice rolled low, laced with lazy amusement.

"A loathsome little pest that spins her webs... then sits at the center, patient as ever." His crimson eyes lingered on you. "Waiting."

His thumb moves above your pulse tugging you closer. "You lure your prey in. Let them believe they've found sanctuary."

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

"Only to ensnare them." His gaze never wavered.

"And when they finally realize they've wandered into your web..." He tilted his head. "It's already too late. You don't kill them quickly." He adds, "No.."

"You let them struggle, you watch. You drain them, thread by thread, until there's nothing left worth saving."

He jerks you, the water sloshes with a loud sound as you a yelp leaves before your drenched chest, wet silk clinging onto your luscious, tempting skin presses against his.

"And every time I tear your precious web apart..." He gave a dismissive scoff. "You crawl right back into the ruins and weave another."

His eyes narrowed with amused disdain.

"Persistent." He drawls, "...Or simply too foolish to learn."

You breath heavier now, gazing up at him. Fierce gaze dulled by another kind of emotion. The same one he made your skin crawl with.

"Call them if you must, wife." He inclined his head at the door way carelessly gesturing at it.

"I'd like to watch you explain why it took an entire household to do what one wife could not."

"I can." You immediately replied. "I can handle you fine, Ryomen Sukuna."

A slow smile crept across Sukuna's face.

"You can?"

He tasted the words as though they amused him, a low chuckle slipping past his lips. "There's that fragile pride again."

His crimson eyes narrowed, studying you as if weighing your conviction. He clicked his tongue.

He took another step making the water lap up your waist, the grin on his face only growing more insufferable.

"You've endured me. Argued with me. Even managed to keep that sharp little tongue in your mouth." His gaze locked onto yours. "But don't flatter yourself into believing that you've managed to tame me, petal."

He tilted his head, his smile almost feral. "If you truly could handle me..." His eyes glinted with cruel amusement.

"...you wouldn't still be trying to prove it."

The words settled between you like a gauntlet cast into still water.

Steam drifted lazily across the spring, veiling the carved stone and softening the world beyond it, but it did nothing to dull the weight of his stare. Sukuna stood before you with that infuriating certainty only he possessed, his fingers still loosely encircling your wrist—not restraining, merely assuming you had nowhere else to be.

Your jaw tightened.

Every smug curl of his mouth, every amused flicker in those crimson eyes, every breath of his quiet laughter seemed to demand the same thing.

Prove me wrong, petal.

A lesser man would've mistaken your silence for defeat. Your husband knew better.

He watched.

Waited.

The corners of his lips lifted another fraction, as though he could already predict your next move and had found it amusing long before you'd made it.

Without breaking eye contact, you stepped into his space.

He simply watched you through heavy-lidded crimson eyes, the haze of drink softening nothing but the edges of his expression.

"You really are cruel, husband. If only you were in your senses."

His gaze narrowed, "I am in my senses, foolish brat."

"Are you?" You asked, voice quiet and uncertain.

And all it takes is the weight of your name, charged with heat and snarled out through his teeth for you to surge up, water cascading down from your dark robes to return to the surface.

As your soft, moist lips crash onto his. Moving with intent. His eyes flutter close as his hands clamp deliciously onto your hips and man-handle them easily, to pin you effortlessly against the edge of the stone bath. He hunches over your form swallowing you whole, his lips slanting over yours with the very same intense hunger you saw in his eyes.

You close your own eyes as you feel him pin your right hand to the edge.

When you drew back, only the smallest breath separated you.

His gaze rested on your face, unblinking, as though committing the moment to memory. Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

Slowly.

Almost imperceptibly.

A rough chuckle escaped him, warm with intoxicated amusement.

His thumb traced an absent circle over your wrist before he leaned in once more, unhurried this time. His forehead hovered near yours, his eyes never leaving yours until, with all the languid confidence of a man who refused to be outdone, he claimed another kiss of his own—brief, deliberate, and every bit as defiant as yours.

Yet enough to steal your breath.

When he finally drew away, it wasn't by much.

The distance between you remained perilously thin, his gaze resting on yours with a curious sort of patience. Wine had left his crimson eyes heavy-lidded, but they hadn't lost their sharpness. If anything, intoxication had only slowed the predator—not dulled it.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he regarded you for another lingering moment, as though weighing whether that kiss had been an act of defiance.

A quiet laugh escaped him. Not mocking. Not kind . Simply... amusement drowned by need.

His thumb shifted lazily where it still circled your wrist. "So." The single word rolled from him like a satisfied hum. "You chose your answer, yes?" He leans closer, the tip of angular nose brushes the moist, delicate skin of your collarbones.

Addictied.

He wanted to get lost in that smooth, gentle texture forever. His eyes lifted to your face before settling back on your own.

"You could've struck me, you could've walked away."

Another slow smile found him.

"But this...?" He brushes his lips against yours making you let out a whimper. He chuckles lowly against your mouth. "How terribly inconvenient for you."

His head tilted, studying the faintest change in your expression with unmistakable delight. The smile deepened—not cruel, but unbearably smug.

"I'll never believe your temper as much as your actions, wife." His lips encase your bottom one, a deep sound rumbling from his chest. "You've made arguing with you far more interesting than I remember."

"Stop at once, Ryomen." You push his face away.

"Is that who I am to you? In that case, I can call you by your title as well. Needy little minx."

A sound protest escapes your throat. "You're doing this on purpose!" You snapped at him.

"Am i? But you're the one who's screaming like a filthy banshee, little wife. How am I the one in fault?"

"Sukuna." You warn,

"Sweet flower." He mocks back, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "Wonder if you're as sweet when i take you apart. Bit by bit."

You shove at his chest with all your might and he voluntarily floats back, cutting the water surface with that gliding motion. Your hair clings onto your flushed skin. Glassy eyes glaring fiercely at him. As you reach for the edge again.

His lower hand grabs your ankle and tugs you back. You snarled at him, kicking your leg free as he only smiles at you with that infuriating amusement. The spring caught you both again. Not enough to pull you apart but enough to turn you slowly, bodies orbiting each other beneath the water. When you settled, he was still there, impossibly close, his reflection fractured beside yours until the two became indistinguishable.

And then the water swallowed every sound between you.

One moment you were glaring at him, the next his hand was firm at the small of your back, drawing you beneath the steaming surface. Bubbles rushed upward as the world blurred into shimmering light.

His lips found yours with relentless certainty—not hurried, not frantic, simply impossible to escape. Time dissolved into the muffled roar of the water, until your lungs burned and instinct forced you to push against his chest.

Only then did he relent.

You broke through the surface with a sharp gasp, water cascading down your face as you fought to steady your breathing. Behind you, Sukuna surfaced far more leisurely, crimson eyes half-lidded, a faint, infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth.

"As expected," he murmured, brushing a droplet from your cheek, "you lose first."

"What is the matter with you?!" You breathlessly hiss at him. Eyes wide.

Beautifully sharp with anger.

He only dips his head, tilting it mid way. Your fingers press against his lips. "Sukuna." His name escapes your lips in a softer warning this time. "You've lost your mind."

His gaze lifts to meet your eyes once before flickering to your lips. He didn't close the distance all at once. It disappeared in fragments—a breath, another heartbeat, the faint brush of your noses. By the time your lips finally met, it felt less like a decision and more like something the water had been carrying you toward from the very beginning.

You part first.

The next inhale wasn't entirely your own. It mingled with his, warm against your mouth, close enough that speaking would've meant brushing lips anyway.

"You're still intoxicated." The words slipping from your lips are all devoid of the breath he had stolen. "You're not in your senses, you'll regret this when you're sober."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. His crimson eyes never left yours.

"Intoxicated?" he echoed, amusement curling at the corner of his mouth.

His thumb brushed your cheek, surprisingly steady. "Careful."

"I've got enough sense to know exactly who I'm looking at."

He tilted his head, a smug smile tugging across his face. "Enough sense to leave this body of yours pathetic and trembling for me." His lower left palm grabs handfull of the pudge flesh behind your thigh as you moan, while he parts them. "And enough sense to leave my mark on you, wife."

With that he sinks his canines onto the juncture of your neck making your hips buck up just right with a cry.

He licks near the bruise, pressing a kiss beneath your ear. "Feels good?" He cooed while practically making you melt in his arms.

Your moist lips part as a shaky whimper escapes you when his lower right hand begins working you beneath your sodden robes. Your hair strands cling to your chest, your collar bones, your neck, the soft space of your flushed cheek and forehead.

He only takes you in, dragging his own lips—tracing and mapping your skin. His calloused fingers gently caressing the hairs away. He studies every minute expression on your face. The soft arch of your brows, the slope of your nose, the way the colour of your eyes reflect the warm glow of the small flames.

Ethereal.

His.

What is he thinking? Why is he thinking? He should just leave devour you.

This is because of intoxication.

Or maybe the intoxication just ignited the fire, he tried to extinguish within him?

Love is worthless.

Love is a lie, a decieve, a cheat.

You are too, just like love yet he cannot retreat.

His face twists in a snarl.

Why do you care for her?

Why?

Kill her, rip her soft heart out.

His fingers only plunge deeper, tugging and curling at your sweet spot, as your voice sings and chants his name.

Steal her voice, before you bottle it as your next intoxication.

He buries his face in the soft valley of your chest pressing sloppy kisses.

Tear through her flesh, feast on it.

His lips only manage to paint bruises on them. Marking every inch.

Her hair, slash it all before your hands manage to caress them.

His fingers lose themselves between the drenched strands.

Like the finest silk of them all.

Your face buries itself inside his chest with a shuddering cry as he cradles you close till the high leaves your body.

Exhausted, you plant your cheek against one pectoral and look up at him, all droopy and senseless.

His face hardens before he tucks that one last strand curling against your cheek behind your ear.

You've managed to melt him at last. He ponders quietly. Make him a prisoner shackled by your name.

I hope you guys enjoy what i cooked. First time writting Sukuna. I'm kinda nervous. Alsooo it's not proof read.

Dividers ain't mine except the Sukuna one. The pictures were taken from @luvrgrl-222 @xxnghtclls and @continuumh @kcocaine

[cynosure-gaze]

༻𓆪 ⎠⎝ 𓆩༺

𝕯𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖐!𝕳𝖚𝖘𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆

The hot spring bath was steaming when you pushed the sliding doors to the side and peek in only to see your husband submerged in the water. Among the candles planted around, illuminating the room with a warm hue. Crimson eyes dulled, lowered almost in an unguarded way.

With a quiet scoff, you entered closing the doors behind you and making your way to the stone bath tub. Your bare feet feels almost a little warm at the soaked steam on the wooden floors as you make your way towards the centre where the stone bathtub resides.

"you promised to have dinner with me, my lord." You said with a sigh fiddling with the edge of your dark kimono sleeve.

His lowered eyes trailed up to fall on your figure, almost observing you, taking you in. Huge arms propped back against the edge. Water lapping at his torso, droplets sliding down the vast space of his chest.

Your palms start to sweat feeling the heavy gaze dragging over you, heated with something unspoken.

Clearing your throat, your hands clasp together. "I know that you don't care about me. Or this arrangement between us. But the least you could do is have dinne—My lord? Are you even listening?"

He silently lifts his gaze to yours.

Your cheeks warm slightly.

"my lord—"

"Come here." He drawls. His deep voice heavier than usual. "Come to me, petal."

The words stir something warm in your stomach which pools somewhere low. "What?" You whisper uncertainedly.

He moves. The action heavy in a way, Water cutting around his waist, as his upper arm moves up, palm open, stretched towards you without another word.

An invitation?

An offer?

What was it?

You take it anyways.

And that was your first mistake.

You barely had time to react before your footing slipped.

The next thing you knew, his hand was around your waist, pulling you into him as the two of you fell beneath the warm water together. For a heartbeat, everything went quiet. The sounds above disappeared, replaced by the gentle rush of the spring around you.

Still holding you close, he turned with the current instead of fighting it. Your clothes floated weightlessly, brushing against his as your hair drifted around you both. The slow spin drew you closer until it felt as if the water itself had wrapped you together, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm—like two halves of the same whole as you both circled eachother.

His grip never tightened, but it never loosened either.

When your eyes met, neither of you looked away. There was something almost unfair about how close he was, close enough for you to notice the smallest change in his expression, close enough to forget there was an entire world waiting above the surface.

For those few stolen seconds, there was no rush to come up for air. Just the warmth of the spring, the steady pull of the water, and the quiet certainty that he wasn't going to let you go.

His half lidded, relaxed gaze studies you with a different kind of intensity, a new found hunger which makes the blood rush beneath your skin.

"You're intoxicated." You soon understand. "I'll call the servant—"

"No." He cuts you off, tugging you, his lower arms entwining around your waist pulling you even closer. The index finger of his right upper hand plants itself beneath your chin as he lifts it with a single digit. He laughs, low and rough, leaning closer enough so you can feel his breath fanning your face. "Calling the servants?" His lips curled into a crooked grin. "What? You can't handle your own husband?" He tilted his head, eyes half-lidded with drink yet still gleaming with something amused yet heated. "You need servants to handle one drunk man?"

"If you possessed the strength of one man, my lord. I wouldn't need servants." You sighed. "But unfortunately you don't. So I'll have you handled by the servants instead."

"How unfortunate." He drawled or maybe even slurred a little. "So quick to pawn me off on someone else, wife. Must you be so harsh?" He mocks, voice low and sensual enough to make the hairs on your neck rise. "Harsh? I'm simply saying so, because I'm quite sure, that not even an entire village full of many men could collectively compete your strength." You scoffed.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, rich with amusement. Even dulled by the liquor, it carried the unmistakable arrogance.

"Many men?" He scoffed, rolling the words across his tongue as though savoring them. "You flatter me."

His crimson gaze lingered on you, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"And yet..." he murmured, stepping closer despite the unsteady sway of the wine. The water sloshes at his waist. "Of all those men you claim I carry the strength of, not one of them is your husband."

His head tilted, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"So tell me, wife..." His voice dropped into a lazy drawl. "Are you truly incapable of handling one husband? Or are you merely looking for an excuse to send me away?"

The words make you take in a sharp breath. You close your eyes briefly before glancing back up him with a glare.

"Do you take me for a whore, husband?" Sukuna barked out a laugh, deep and unrestrained.

"A whore?"

He rolled the word over his tongue as though it were the most absurd thing he'd heard all evening.

"Look at you." His grin widened. "I tease you once and your mind runs there." His index finger beneath your chin curls, before his thumb traces the line of your bottom lip.

"Tell me, wife..." His voice dripped with amusement. "Who uttered the word first? You... or I?"

When you stare silently, a lazy chuckle escaped him.

"I spoke of handling your husband. You leapt to the bedchamber all on your own." His crimson eyes sparked dully with cruel delight.

"Should I be concerned?" he mused. "Or have I uncovered the only way to make that dignified little composure of yours crumble?"

He clicked his tongue once as if proving how little your worth is.

"What a fragile thing your pride is. One jest, and you've already managed to insult yourself far better than I ever could."

"Watch your tone." You hissed out.

A beat of silence, nothing except the flames of the candles fluttering. The quiet sound of water rippling around you. The warm glow casted on both your skins. As the sound of your breaths was the only thing audible.

And maybe to you? Your own heart beating beneath your chest.

But then, the moment shatters with Sukuna's amused chuckle.

Not too sharp yet enough to make it clear he'd found your warning genuinely entertaining.

"My tone?" The fingers on your chin trail down to rest around your neck. He tilted his head, crimson eyes gleaming beneath heavy lids.

"You've grown bold, have you? hm?" His smile sharpened—twisted into something wicked and sardonic making your blood boil and simmer.

"Tell me..." he drawled, "...which part offended you?"

Your jaw clenched, hard.

He hummed with mock contemplation.

"The part where I laughed at you?" He shrugged. "Or the part where you proved my point?"

Your hands fist beside your sides, digging the nails into your palms as your eyes flared at his words.

Another amused scoff leaves him as he gives your throat an experimental squeeze.

"You threaten to fetch servants because your husband is too much for you to manage."

He looked you over with deliberate slowness before meeting your glare again.

"And then you dare tell me to watch my tongue?"

His grin stretched wider settling somewhere unwelcomed, deep inside your bones.

"You should concern yourself with keeping your composure before you concern yourself with correcting mine."

He leaned back with a dismissive chuckle.

"If my words alone leave you bristling like this..." He said, voice teasing as it drags like salt over your wounds. "...you're far easier to provoke than I'd thought."

Despite the anger which threatens to boil over, you sigh once. Shakily. "I'd call the servants." You said, trying to keep your expression normal. The words left your mouth through gritted teeth. "I hope you have a pleasant evening, my lord."

You float back a little, enough to make his hands fall away, intent on climbing out from the spring as you turn, the water cuts when you move. Your black robes clinging onto your skin.

You made a little more than half a step.

A hand closed around your wrist.

Firm.

Unhurried.

As though there had never been any possibility of you leaving. The water rippled as he drew you back—not violently, but with such effortless strength that resistance felt almost laughable.

"Did I dismiss you?"

His voice had lost its lazy humor.

It was quieter now.

The kind of quiet that demanded attention. You met his stare with one of your own.

"You seem to have forgotten yourself."

A slow grin spread across Sukuna's face. "Ah...no."

His thumb shifted against your wrist. "I think you've forgotten who you're trying to walk away from."

He looked at the hand still caught in his before raising his eyes to yours again.

"You announce your departure..."

A faint scoff escaped him.

"...as though I require your permission to keep you here."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The steam curled between you, blurring everything but his unwavering gaze. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, he smiled—that infuriating, predatory smile.

"Now." His voice was velvet over steel. "Try that farewell again and this time.."

His eyes narrowed with unmistakable amusement.

"...say it like you believe you're leaving." His words make the sick anger in your, churn once more.

"I'm going to call the servants." You snarled each word with deliberate slowness. "Is that genuine enough for you? My lord?"

Sukuna stared at you for a long second before his lips twitched wickedly. A rich, contemptuous laugh that echoed off the stone walls.

"There she is." He says as if he finally achieved what he was aiming for. As if the edge of the arrow had finally sunk into the centre of the board.

His grip never loosened.

"I was beginning to think that polished little smile was all you had." His crimson eyes roamed over your expression, drinking in every ounce of your fury.

"Now that's a face worth looking at." His grin widens.

The words make that treacherous heat rise in your cheeks again.

He leaned in just enough to make it impossible to mistake the challenge in his gaze. "You growl, like a wounded little animal when cornered. You glare...You threaten."

His lips curled into a wicked grin.

"And yet..." He gave your wrist the slightest tug.

"...you're aware that I can snap that delicate neck in a heart beat, if i truly wanted to."

Another amused scoff.

"While if you truly meant to summon them..." His eyes flashed with mocking delight.

"You... would've stopped talking by now and be gone." His smile widened, equal parts arrogant and provoking.

"You're like...a spider."

Sukuna's voice rolled low, laced with lazy amusement.

"A loathsome little pest that spins her webs... then sits at the center, patient as ever." His crimson eyes lingered on you. "Waiting."

His thumb moves above your pulse tugging you closer. "You lure your prey in. Let them believe they've found sanctuary."

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

"Only to ensnare them." His gaze never wavered.

"And when they finally realize they've wandered into your web..." He tilted his head. "It's already too late. You don't kill them quickly." He adds, "No.."

"You let them struggle, you watch. You drain them, thread by thread, until there's nothing left worth saving."

He jerks you, the water sloshes with a loud sound as you a yelp leaves before your drenched chest, wet silk clinging onto your luscious, tempting skin presses against his.

"And every time I tear your precious web apart..." He gave a dismissive scoff. "You crawl right back into the ruins and weave another."

His eyes narrowed with amused disdain.

"Persistent." He drawls, "...Or simply too foolish to learn."

You breath heavier now, gazing up at him. Fierce gaze dulled by another kind of emotion. The same one he made your skin crawl with.

"Call them if you must, wife." He inclined his head at the door way carelessly gesturing at it.

"I'd like to watch you explain why it took an entire household to do what one wife could not."

"I can." You immediately replied. "I can handle you fine, Ryomen Sukuna."

A slow smile crept across Sukuna's face.

"You can?"

He tasted the words as though they amused him, a low chuckle slipping past his lips. "There's that fragile pride again."

His crimson eyes narrowed, studying you as if weighing your conviction. He clicked his tongue.

He took another step making the water lap up your waist, the grin on his face only growing more insufferable.

"You've endured me. Argued with me. Even managed to keep that sharp little tongue in your mouth." His gaze locked onto yours. "But don't flatter yourself into believing that you've managed to tame me, petal."

He tilted his head, his smile almost feral. "If you truly could handle me..." His eyes glinted with cruel amusement.

"...you wouldn't still be trying to prove it."

The words settled between you like a gauntlet cast into still water.

Steam drifted lazily across the spring, veiling the carved stone and softening the world beyond it, but it did nothing to dull the weight of his stare. Sukuna stood before you with that infuriating certainty only he possessed, his fingers still loosely encircling your wrist—not restraining, merely assuming you had nowhere else to be.

Your jaw tightened.

Every smug curl of his mouth, every amused flicker in those crimson eyes, every breath of his quiet laughter seemed to demand the same thing.

Prove me wrong, petal.

A lesser man would've mistaken your silence for defeat. Your husband knew better.

He watched.

Waited.

The corners of his lips lifted another fraction, as though he could already predict your next move and had found it amusing long before you'd made it.

Without breaking eye contact, you stepped into his space.

He simply watched you through heavy-lidded crimson eyes, the haze of drink softening nothing but the edges of his expression.

"You really are cruel, husband. If only you were in your senses."

His gaze narrowed, "I am in my senses, foolish brat."

"Are you?" You asked, voice quiet and uncertain.

And all it takes is the weight of your name, charged with heat and snarled out through his teeth for you to surge up, water cascading down from your dark robes to return to the surface.

As your soft, moist lips crash onto his. Moving with intent. His eyes flutter close as his hands clamp deliciously onto your hips and man-handle them easily, to pin you effortlessly against the edge of the stone bath. He hunches over your form swallowing you whole, his lips slanting over yours with the very same intense hunger you saw in his eyes.

You close your own eyes as you feel him pin your right hand to the edge.

When you drew back, only the smallest breath separated you.

His gaze rested on your face, unblinking, as though committing the moment to memory. Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

Slowly.

Almost imperceptibly.

A rough chuckle escaped him, warm with intoxicated amusement.

His thumb traced an absent circle over your wrist before he leaned in once more, unhurried this time. His forehead hovered near yours, his eyes never leaving yours until, with all the languid confidence of a man who refused to be outdone, he claimed another kiss of his own—brief, deliberate, and every bit as defiant as yours.

Yet enough to steal your breath.

When he finally drew away, it wasn't by much.

The distance between you remained perilously thin, his gaze resting on yours with a curious sort of patience. Wine had left his crimson eyes heavy-lidded, but they hadn't lost their sharpness. If anything, intoxication had only slowed the predator—not dulled it.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he regarded you for another lingering moment, as though weighing whether that kiss had been an act of defiance.

A quiet laugh escaped him. Not mocking. Not kind . Simply... amusement drowned by need.

His thumb shifted lazily where it still circled your wrist. "So." The single word rolled from him like a satisfied hum. "You chose your answer, yes?" He leans closer, the tip of angular nose brushes the moist, delicate skin of your collarbones.

Addictied.

He wanted to get lost in that smooth, gentle texture forever. His eyes lifted to your face before settling back on your own.

"You could've struck me, you could've walked away."

Another slow smile found him.

"But this...?" He brushes his lips against yours making you let out a whimper. He chuckles lowly against your mouth. "How terribly inconvenient for you."

His head tilted, studying the faintest change in your expression with unmistakable delight. The smile deepened—not cruel, but unbearably smug.

"I'll never believe your temper as much as your actions, wife." His lips encase your bottom one, a deep sound rumbling from his chest. "You've made arguing with you far more interesting than I remember."

"Stop at once, Ryomen." You push his face away.

"Is that who I am to you? In that case, I can call you by your title as well. Needy little minx."

A sound protest escapes your throat. "You're doing this on purpose!" You snapped at him.

"Am i? But you're the one who's screaming like a filthy banshee, little wife. How am I the one in fault?"

"Sukuna." You warn,

"Sweet flower." He mocks back, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "Wonder if you're as sweet when i take you apart. Bit by bit."

You shove at his chest with all your might and he voluntarily floats back, cutting the water surface with that gliding motion. Your hair clings onto your flushed skin. Glassy eyes glaring fiercely at him. As you reach for the edge again.

His lower hand grabs your ankle and tugs you back. You snarled at him, kicking your leg free as he only smiles at you with that infuriating amusement. The spring caught you both again. Not enough to pull you apart but enough to turn you slowly, bodies orbiting each other beneath the water. When you settled, he was still there, impossibly close, his reflection fractured beside yours until the two became indistinguishable.

And then the water swallowed every sound between you.

One moment you were glaring at him, the next his hand was firm at the small of your back, drawing you beneath the steaming surface. Bubbles rushed upward as the world blurred into shimmering light.

His lips found yours with relentless certainty—not hurried, not frantic, simply impossible to escape. Time dissolved into the muffled roar of the water, until your lungs burned and instinct forced you to push against his chest.

Only then did he relent.

You broke through the surface with a sharp gasp, water cascading down your face as you fought to steady your breathing. Behind you, Sukuna surfaced far more leisurely, crimson eyes half-lidded, a faint, infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth.

"As expected," he murmured, brushing a droplet from your cheek, "you lose first."

"What is the matter with you?!" You breathlessly hiss at him. Eyes wide.

Beautifully sharp with anger.

He only dips his head, tilting it mid way. Your fingers press against his lips. "Sukuna." His name escapes your lips in a softer warning this time. "You've lost your mind."

His gaze lifts to meet your eyes once before flickering to your lips. He didn't close the distance all at once. It disappeared in fragments—a breath, another heartbeat, the faint brush of your noses. By the time your lips finally met, it felt less like a decision and more like something the water had been carrying you toward from the very beginning.

You part first.

The next inhale wasn't entirely your own. It mingled with his, warm against your mouth, close enough that speaking would've meant brushing lips anyway.

"You're still intoxicated." The words slipping from your lips are all devoid of the breath he had stolen. "You're not in your senses, you'll regret this when you're sober."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. His crimson eyes never left yours.

"Intoxicated?" he echoed, amusement curling at the corner of his mouth.

His thumb brushed your cheek, surprisingly steady. "Careful."

"I've got enough sense to know exactly who I'm looking at."

He tilted his head, a smug smile tugging across his face. "Enough sense to leave this body of yours pathetic and trembling for me." His lower left palm grabs handfull of the pudge flesh behind your thigh as you moan, while he parts them. "And enough sense to leave my mark on you, wife."

With that he sinks his canines onto the juncture of your neck making your hips buck up just right with a cry.

He licks near the bruise, pressing a kiss beneath your ear. "Feels good?" He cooed while practically making you melt in his arms.

Your moist lips part as a shaky whimper escapes you when his lower right hand begins working you beneath your sodden robes. Your hair strands cling to your chest, your collar bones, your neck, the soft space of your flushed cheek and forehead.

He only takes you in, dragging his own lips—tracing and mapping your skin. His calloused fingers gently caressing the hairs away. He studies every minute expression on your face. The soft arch of your brows, the slope of your nose, the way the colour of your eyes reflect the warm glow of the small flames.

Ethereal.

His.

What is he thinking? Why is he thinking? He should just leave devour you.

This is because of intoxication.

Or maybe the intoxication just ignited the fire, he tried to extinguish within him?

Love is worthless.

Love is a lie, a decieve, a cheat.

You are too, just like love yet he cannot retreat.

His face twists in a snarl.

Why do you care for her?

Why?

Kill her, rip her soft heart out.

His fingers only plunge deeper, tugging and curling at your sweet spot, as your voice sings and chants his name.

Steal her voice, before you bottle it as your next intoxication.

He buries his face in the soft valley of your chest pressing sloppy kisses.

Tear through her flesh, feast on it.

His lips only manage to paint bruises on them. Marking every inch.

Her hair, slash it all before your hands manage to caress them.

His fingers lose themselves between the drenched strands.

Like the finest silk of them all.

Your face buries itself inside his chest with a shuddering cry as he cradles you close till the high leaves your body.

Exhausted, you plant your cheek against one pectoral and look up at him, all droopy and senseless.

His face hardens before he tucks that one last strand curling against your cheek behind your ear.

You've managed to melt him at last. He ponders quietly. Make him a prisoner shackled by your name.

I hope you guys enjoy what i cooked. First time writting Sukuna. I'm kinda nervous. Alsooo it's not proof read.

Dividers ain't mine except the Sukuna one. The pictures were taken from @luvrgrl-222 @xxnghtclls and @continuumh @kcocaine

[cynosure-gaze]

༻𓆪 ⎠⎝ 𓆩༺

𝕯𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖐!𝕳𝖚𝖘𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆

The hot spring bath was steaming when you pushed the sliding doors to the side and peek in only to see your husband submerged in the water. Among the candles planted around, illuminating the room with a warm hue. Crimson eyes dulled, lowered almost in an unguarded way.

With a quiet scoff, you entered closing the doors behind you and making your way to the stone bath tub. Your bare feet feels almost a little warm at the soaked steam on the wooden floors as you make your way towards the centre where the stone bathtub resides.

"you promised to have dinner with me, my lord." You said with a sigh fiddling with the edge of your dark kimono sleeve.

His lowered eyes trailed up to fall on your figure, almost observing you, taking you in. Huge arms propped back against the edge. Water lapping at his torso, droplets sliding down the vast space of his chest.

Your palms start to sweat feeling the heavy gaze dragging over you, heated with something unspoken.

Clearing your throat, your hands clasp together. "I know that you don't care about me. Or this arrangement between us. But the least you could do is have dinne—My lord? Are you even listening?"

He silently lifts his gaze to yours.

Your cheeks warm slightly.

"my lord—"

"Come here." He drawls. His deep voice heavier than usual. "Come to me, petal."

The words stir something warm in your stomach which pools somewhere low. "What?" You whisper uncertainedly.

He moves. The action heavy in a way, Water cutting around his waist, as his upper arm moves up, palm open, stretched towards you without another word.

An invitation?

An offer?

What was it?

You take it anyways.

And that was your first mistake.

You barely had time to react before your footing slipped.

The next thing you knew, his hand was around your waist, pulling you into him as the two of you fell beneath the warm water together. For a heartbeat, everything went quiet. The sounds above disappeared, replaced by the gentle rush of the spring around you.

Still holding you close, he turned with the current instead of fighting it. Your clothes floated weightlessly, brushing against his as your hair drifted around you both. The slow spin drew you closer until it felt as if the water itself had wrapped you together, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm—like two halves of the same whole as you both circled eachother.

His grip never tightened, but it never loosened either.

When your eyes met, neither of you looked away. There was something almost unfair about how close he was, close enough for you to notice the smallest change in his expression, close enough to forget there was an entire world waiting above the surface.

For those few stolen seconds, there was no rush to come up for air. Just the warmth of the spring, the steady pull of the water, and the quiet certainty that he wasn't going to let you go.

His half lidded, relaxed gaze studies you with a different kind of intensity, a new found hunger which makes the blood rush beneath your skin.

"You're intoxicated." You soon understand. "I'll call the servant—"

"No." He cuts you off, tugging you, his lower arms entwining around your waist pulling you even closer. The index finger of his right upper hand plants itself beneath your chin as he lifts it with a single digit. He laughs, low and rough, leaning closer enough so you can feel his breath fanning your face. "Calling the servants?" His lips curled into a crooked grin. "What? You can't handle your own husband?" He tilted his head, eyes half-lidded with drink yet still gleaming with something amused yet heated. "You need servants to handle one drunk man?"

"If you possessed the strength of one man, my lord. I wouldn't need servants." You sighed. "But unfortunately you don't. So I'll have you handled by the servants instead."

"How unfortunate." He drawled or maybe even slurred a little. "So quick to pawn me off on someone else, wife. Must you be so harsh?" He mocks, voice low and sensual enough to make the hairs on your neck rise. "Harsh? I'm simply saying so, because I'm quite sure, that not even an entire village full of many men could collectively compete your strength." You scoffed.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, rich with amusement. Even dulled by the liquor, it carried the unmistakable arrogance.

"Many men?" He scoffed, rolling the words across his tongue as though savoring them. "You flatter me."

His crimson gaze lingered on you, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"And yet..." he murmured, stepping closer despite the unsteady sway of the wine. The water sloshes at his waist. "Of all those men you claim I carry the strength of, not one of them is your husband."

His head tilted, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"So tell me, wife..." His voice dropped into a lazy drawl. "Are you truly incapable of handling one husband? Or are you merely looking for an excuse to send me away?"

The words make you take in a sharp breath. You close your eyes briefly before glancing back up him with a glare.

"Do you take me for a whore, husband?" Sukuna barked out a laugh, deep and unrestrained.

"A whore?"

He rolled the word over his tongue as though it were the most absurd thing he'd heard all evening.

"Look at you." His grin widened. "I tease you once and your mind runs there." His index finger beneath your chin curls, before his thumb traces the line of your bottom lip.

"Tell me, wife..." His voice dripped with amusement. "Who uttered the word first? You... or I?"

When you stare silently, a lazy chuckle escaped him.

"I spoke of handling your husband. You leapt to the bedchamber all on your own." His crimson eyes sparked dully with cruel delight.

"Should I be concerned?" he mused. "Or have I uncovered the only way to make that dignified little composure of yours crumble?"

He clicked his tongue once as if proving how little your worth is.

"What a fragile thing your pride is. One jest, and you've already managed to insult yourself far better than I ever could."

"Watch your tone." You hissed out.

A beat of silence, nothing except the flames of the candles fluttering. The quiet sound of water rippling around you. The warm glow casted on both your skins. As the sound of your breaths was the only thing audible.

And maybe to you? Your own heart beating beneath your chest.

But then, the moment shatters with Sukuna's amused chuckle.

Not too sharp yet enough to make it clear he'd found your warning genuinely entertaining.

"My tone?" The fingers on your chin trail down to rest around your neck. He tilted his head, crimson eyes gleaming beneath heavy lids.

"You've grown bold, have you? hm?" His smile sharpened—twisted into something wicked and sardonic making your blood boil and simmer.

"Tell me..." he drawled, "...which part offended you?"

Your jaw clenched, hard.

He hummed with mock contemplation.

"The part where I laughed at you?" He shrugged. "Or the part where you proved my point?"

Your hands fist beside your sides, digging the nails into your palms as your eyes flared at his words.

Another amused scoff leaves him as he gives your throat an experimental squeeze.

"You threaten to fetch servants because your husband is too much for you to manage."

He looked you over with deliberate slowness before meeting your glare again.

"And then you dare tell me to watch my tongue?"

His grin stretched wider settling somewhere unwelcomed, deep inside your bones.

"You should concern yourself with keeping your composure before you concern yourself with correcting mine."

He leaned back with a dismissive chuckle.

"If my words alone leave you bristling like this..." He said, voice teasing as it drags like salt over your wounds. "...you're far easier to provoke than I'd thought."

Despite the anger which threatens to boil over, you sigh once. Shakily. "I'd call the servants." You said, trying to keep your expression normal. The words left your mouth through gritted teeth. "I hope you have a pleasant evening, my lord."

You float back a little, enough to make his hands fall away, intent on climbing out from the spring as you turn, the water cuts when you move. Your black robes clinging onto your skin.

You made a little more than half a step.

A hand closed around your wrist.

Firm.

Unhurried.

As though there had never been any possibility of you leaving. The water rippled as he drew you back—not violently, but with such effortless strength that resistance felt almost laughable.

"Did I dismiss you?"

His voice had lost its lazy humor.

It was quieter now.

The kind of quiet that demanded attention. You met his stare with one of your own.

"You seem to have forgotten yourself."

A slow grin spread across Sukuna's face. "Ah...no."

His thumb shifted against your wrist. "I think you've forgotten who you're trying to walk away from."

He looked at the hand still caught in his before raising his eyes to yours again.

"You announce your departure..."

A faint scoff escaped him.

"...as though I require your permission to keep you here."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The steam curled between you, blurring everything but his unwavering gaze. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, he smiled—that infuriating, predatory smile.

"Now." His voice was velvet over steel. "Try that farewell again and this time.."

His eyes narrowed with unmistakable amusement.

"...say it like you believe you're leaving." His words make the sick anger in your, churn once more.

"I'm going to call the servants." You snarled each word with deliberate slowness. "Is that genuine enough for you? My lord?"

Sukuna stared at you for a long second before his lips twitched wickedly. A rich, contemptuous laugh that echoed off the stone walls.

"There she is." He says as if he finally achieved what he was aiming for. As if the edge of the arrow had finally sunk into the centre of the board.

His grip never loosened.

"I was beginning to think that polished little smile was all you had." His crimson eyes roamed over your expression, drinking in every ounce of your fury.

"Now that's a face worth looking at." His grin widens.

The words make that treacherous heat rise in your cheeks again.

He leaned in just enough to make it impossible to mistake the challenge in his gaze. "You growl, like a wounded little animal when cornered. You glare...You threaten."

His lips curled into a wicked grin.

"And yet..." He gave your wrist the slightest tug.

"...you're aware that I can snap that delicate neck in a heart beat, if i truly wanted to."

Another amused scoff.

"While if you truly meant to summon them..." His eyes flashed with mocking delight.

"You... would've stopped talking by now and be gone." His smile widened, equal parts arrogant and provoking.

"You're like...a spider."

Sukuna's voice rolled low, laced with lazy amusement.

"A loathsome little pest that spins her webs... then sits at the center, patient as ever." His crimson eyes lingered on you. "Waiting."

His thumb moves above your pulse tugging you closer. "You lure your prey in. Let them believe they've found sanctuary."

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

"Only to ensnare them." His gaze never wavered.

"And when they finally realize they've wandered into your web..." He tilted his head. "It's already too late. You don't kill them quickly." He adds, "No.."

"You let them struggle, you watch. You drain them, thread by thread, until there's nothing left worth saving."

He jerks you, the water sloshes with a loud sound as you a yelp leaves before your drenched chest, wet silk clinging onto your luscious, tempting skin presses against his.

"And every time I tear your precious web apart..." He gave a dismissive scoff. "You crawl right back into the ruins and weave another."

His eyes narrowed with amused disdain.

"Persistent." He drawls, "...Or simply too foolish to learn."

You breath heavier now, gazing up at him. Fierce gaze dulled by another kind of emotion. The same one he made your skin crawl with.

"Call them if you must, wife." He inclined his head at the door way carelessly gesturing at it.

"I'd like to watch you explain why it took an entire household to do what one wife could not."

"I can." You immediately replied. "I can handle you fine, Ryomen Sukuna."

A slow smile crept across Sukuna's face.

"You can?"

He tasted the words as though they amused him, a low chuckle slipping past his lips. "There's that fragile pride again."

His crimson eyes narrowed, studying you as if weighing your conviction. He clicked his tongue.

He took another step making the water lap up your waist, the grin on his face only growing more insufferable.

"You've endured me. Argued with me. Even managed to keep that sharp little tongue in your mouth." His gaze locked onto yours. "But don't flatter yourself into believing that you've managed to tame me, petal."

He tilted his head, his smile almost feral. "If you truly could handle me..." His eyes glinted with cruel amusement.

"...you wouldn't still be trying to prove it."

The words settled between you like a gauntlet cast into still water.

Steam drifted lazily across the spring, veiling the carved stone and softening the world beyond it, but it did nothing to dull the weight of his stare. Sukuna stood before you with that infuriating certainty only he possessed, his fingers still loosely encircling your wrist—not restraining, merely assuming you had nowhere else to be.

Your jaw tightened.

Every smug curl of his mouth, every amused flicker in those crimson eyes, every breath of his quiet laughter seemed to demand the same thing.

Prove me wrong, petal.

A lesser man would've mistaken your silence for defeat. Your husband knew better.

He watched.

Waited.

The corners of his lips lifted another fraction, as though he could already predict your next move and had found it amusing long before you'd made it.

Without breaking eye contact, you stepped into his space.

He simply watched you through heavy-lidded crimson eyes, the haze of drink softening nothing but the edges of his expression.

"You really are cruel, husband. If only you were in your senses."

His gaze narrowed, "I am in my senses, foolish brat."

"Are you?" You asked, voice quiet and uncertain.

And all it takes is the weight of your name, charged with heat and snarled out through his teeth for you to surge up, water cascading down from your dark robes to return to the surface.

As your soft, moist lips crash onto his. Moving with intent. His eyes flutter close as his hands clamp deliciously onto your hips and man-handle them easily, to pin you effortlessly against the edge of the stone bath. He hunches over your form swallowing you whole, his lips slanting over yours with the very same intense hunger you saw in his eyes.

You close your own eyes as you feel him pin your right hand to the edge.

When you drew back, only the smallest breath separated you.

His gaze rested on your face, unblinking, as though committing the moment to memory. Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

Slowly.

Almost imperceptibly.

A rough chuckle escaped him, warm with intoxicated amusement.

His thumb traced an absent circle over your wrist before he leaned in once more, unhurried this time. His forehead hovered near yours, his eyes never leaving yours until, with all the languid confidence of a man who refused to be outdone, he claimed another kiss of his own—brief, deliberate, and every bit as defiant as yours.

Yet enough to steal your breath.

When he finally drew away, it wasn't by much.

The distance between you remained perilously thin, his gaze resting on yours with a curious sort of patience. Wine had left his crimson eyes heavy-lidded, but they hadn't lost their sharpness. If anything, intoxication had only slowed the predator—not dulled it.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he regarded you for another lingering moment, as though weighing whether that kiss had been an act of defiance.

A quiet laugh escaped him. Not mocking. Not kind . Simply... amusement drowned by need.

His thumb shifted lazily where it still circled your wrist. "So." The single word rolled from him like a satisfied hum. "You chose your answer, yes?" He leans closer, the tip of angular nose brushes the moist, delicate skin of your collarbones.

Addictied.

He wanted to get lost in that smooth, gentle texture forever. His eyes lifted to your face before settling back on your own.

"You could've struck me, you could've walked away."

Another slow smile found him.

"But this...?" He brushes his lips against yours making you let out a whimper. He chuckles lowly against your mouth. "How terribly inconvenient for you."

His head tilted, studying the faintest change in your expression with unmistakable delight. The smile deepened—not cruel, but unbearably smug.

"I'll never believe your temper as much as your actions, wife." His lips encase your bottom one, a deep sound rumbling from his chest. "You've made arguing with you far more interesting than I remember."

"Stop at once, Ryomen." You push his face away.

"Is that who I am to you? In that case, I can call you by your title as well. Needy little minx."

A sound protest escapes your throat. "You're doing this on purpose!" You snapped at him.

"Am i? But you're the one who's screaming like a filthy banshee, little wife. How am I the one in fault?"

"Sukuna." You warn,

"Sweet flower." He mocks back, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "Wonder if you're as sweet when i take you apart. Bit by bit."

You shove at his chest with all your might and he voluntarily floats back, cutting the water surface with that gliding motion. Your hair clings onto your flushed skin. Glassy eyes glaring fiercely at him. As you reach for the edge again.

His lower hand grabs your ankle and tugs you back. You snarled at him, kicking your leg free as he only smiles at you with that infuriating amusement. The spring caught you both again. Not enough to pull you apart but enough to turn you slowly, bodies orbiting each other beneath the water. When you settled, he was still there, impossibly close, his reflection fractured beside yours until the two became indistinguishable.

And then the water swallowed every sound between you.

One moment you were glaring at him, the next his hand was firm at the small of your back, drawing you beneath the steaming surface. Bubbles rushed upward as the world blurred into shimmering light.

His lips found yours with relentless certainty—not hurried, not frantic, simply impossible to escape. Time dissolved into the muffled roar of the water, until your lungs burned and instinct forced you to push against his chest.

Only then did he relent.

You broke through the surface with a sharp gasp, water cascading down your face as you fought to steady your breathing. Behind you, Sukuna surfaced far more leisurely, crimson eyes half-lidded, a faint, infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth.

"As expected," he murmured, brushing a droplet from your cheek, "you lose first."

"What is the matter with you?!" You breathlessly hiss at him. Eyes wide.

Beautifully sharp with anger.

He only dips his head, tilting it mid way. Your fingers press against his lips. "Sukuna." His name escapes your lips in a softer warning this time. "You've lost your mind."

His gaze lifts to meet your eyes once before flickering to your lips. He didn't close the distance all at once. It disappeared in fragments—a breath, another heartbeat, the faint brush of your noses. By the time your lips finally met, it felt less like a decision and more like something the water had been carrying you toward from the very beginning.

You part first.

The next inhale wasn't entirely your own. It mingled with his, warm against your mouth, close enough that speaking would've meant brushing lips anyway.

"You're still intoxicated." The words slipping from your lips are all devoid of the breath he had stolen. "You're not in your senses, you'll regret this when you're sober."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. His crimson eyes never left yours.

"Intoxicated?" he echoed, amusement curling at the corner of his mouth.

His thumb brushed your cheek, surprisingly steady. "Careful."

"I've got enough sense to know exactly who I'm looking at."

He tilted his head, a smug smile tugging across his face. "Enough sense to leave this body of yours pathetic and trembling for me." His lower left palm grabs handfull of the pudge flesh behind your thigh as you moan, while he parts them. "And enough sense to leave my mark on you, wife."

With that he sinks his canines onto the juncture of your neck making your hips buck up just right with a cry.

He licks near the bruise, pressing a kiss beneath your ear. "Feels good?" He cooed while practically making you melt in his arms.

Your moist lips part as a shaky whimper escapes you when his lower right hand begins working you beneath your sodden robes. Your hair strands cling to your chest, your collar bones, your neck, the soft space of your flushed cheek and forehead.

He only takes you in, dragging his own lips—tracing and mapping your skin. His calloused fingers gently caressing the hairs away. He studies every minute expression on your face. The soft arch of your brows, the slope of your nose, the way the colour of your eyes reflect the warm glow of the small flames.

Ethereal.

His.

What is he thinking? Why is he thinking? He should just leave devour you.

This is because of intoxication.

Or maybe the intoxication just ignited the fire, he tried to extinguish within him?

Love is worthless.

Love is a lie, a decieve, a cheat.

You are too, just like love yet he cannot retreat.

His face twists in a snarl.

Why do you care for her?

Why?

Kill her, rip her soft heart out.

His fingers only plunge deeper, tugging and curling at your sweet spot, as your voice sings and chants his name.

Steal her voice, before you bottle it as your next intoxication.

He buries his face in the soft valley of your chest pressing sloppy kisses.

Tear through her flesh, feast on it.

His lips only manage to paint bruises on them. Marking every inch.

Her hair, slash it all before your hands manage to caress them.

His fingers lose themselves between the drenched strands.

Like the finest silk of them all.

Your face buries itself inside his chest with a shuddering cry as he cradles you close till the high leaves your body.

Exhausted, you plant your cheek against one pectoral and look up at him, all droopy and senseless.

His face hardens before he tucks that one last strand curling against your cheek behind your ear.

You've managed to melt him at last. He ponders quietly. Make him a prisoner shackled by your name.

I hope you guys enjoy what i cooked. First time writting Sukuna. I'm kinda nervous. Alsooo it's not proof read.

Dividers ain't mine except the Sukuna one. The pictures were taken from @luvrgrl-222 @xxnghtclls and @continuumh @kcocaine

[cynosure-gaze]

Thoughts on drunk arranged husband!Sukuna?

I also wanted to do a hot spring one..

So I decided to do both.

Wrote it

[strangergraphics]

miscellaneous pastel pink dividers part two:

please like and credit if you use, reblogs are appreciated! thank you! 💕

[cynosure-gaze]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭, 𝓢𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓾

Especially when, after a very tiring day, he's got you draped over him, his warm hands squeezing the pudge flesh of your plump ass, spreading it with his long fingers, while his other palm is warm over your heat, his fingers snug inside the cushioned walls of your pussy.

Soft whimpers and hiccups leave you as you bury your face in his neck, panting, a thin sheen of drool coating your lips which are swollen from you tucking it between your teeth. Opening your eyes, which are closing on their own from the pleasure, you mumble a whiney, "toruuu—" only to get shushed by him.

A tender smile splays on his lips, as the hand which had handfulls of your plump flesh slowly drags up to wrap around your waist, his thumb rubbing small soothing circles on your flushed skin. "C'mon, pretty girl, you won't tell your husband how you feel?" He drawls softly, his hand on your waist now caressing up your back gently before his fingers wrap around your jaw, slightly smushing your cheeks in the process, your lips forming a soft pout as he lifts it to meet your eyes with his.

"i thought we talked about this, sweetheart. But if you don't use your big girl words, I think I'll have to just—" He slides his fingers out making your pussy convulse around nothing as a sob escapes you, your fingers grabbing fistfulls of his shirt at his chest. As he shushes and coos at you again. Tauntingly.

"see, crying like that will get ya no where. If you tell me what I wanna hear, perhaps, I'll let you have what you want, hm?" His eyes twinkle with amusement as you babble away a string of 'please's and 'i want you's looking alllll pathetic and needy for him. "Aww, look at you, sweet, sweet girl. Missed me that much, huh?" You nod desperately jerking your hips back with a cry. "Ah.." He says, tutting softly. "I know, I know, baby, trust me, you're making me so hard right now. I don't think I'll be able to hold much longer. But, but, but, I wanna make sure, hm? That you get what you want?" His fingers begin to circle and flick at the cute lil nub making you twitch, as your pussy spurts out creamy little drops in despair coating your thighs. "Now, tell me, sweets. Loud and clear."

"please!—i hah—" His palm cracks against the soft slope making you cry out and sniffle in his neck.

"I'm hearing you, wife. Go on. Don't stop on my account." He chuckles mocking you relentlessly, making you hiccup, your glassy eyes gazing up at him pleadingly. His breath hitches before a shaky sigh leaves him.

"You really would kill me with those eyes of yours one day. And this cute lil face." He lets go of your cheeks, giving it a pat before gently grasping your waist while his fingers dip back into your pussy. Soft cries leave your lips as you clinged onto him, draped over the warm expanse of his body as he fucked your sweet little pussy with his fingers nice and slow, making you cream around his digits, trembling as he whispered sweet tauntings the whole time of how weak your pussy is and how she doesn't wanna let him go.

And neither did you.

"Are you okay, sweets? Tired much? Wanna cuddle? I'll spoon ya, all nice 'nd warm, see?"

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭.

I sawww this yummy fanart (i forgot the account) But it's not mine! And they wanted someone to make a blurb or anything. So i came up with this. I'm working on the request regarding Hiromi Higuruma. Till then, enjoy this one! (I hope you guys do!) And forgive any grammatical errors because i didn't proofread, dividers don't belong to me so all credits go to the respective owners💓

[moonii3]

𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀’𝐒 keeping a very, very dark secret from you. ₊⊹ 𝒻. reader

“we’re coming to you live with the latest updates on the four bodies found brutally mutilated outside of shibuya . . .”

your hands tighten on the fabric of sukunas wife beater as the news anchors grimly recounts the attacks that happened only a few blocks from your apartment.

sukuna knows you’re scared.

you’ve done nothing but ramble on & on about the so called spider lily killer — or whatever they’ve decided to call him.

“that’s just awful,” you lift your cheek off his chest to look at the television. yellow police tape & police lights flutter across the screen. “kuna, do you think i should worry? i mean shibuya’s not far . . .”

“i think you’re good, baby,” sukuna’s hand glides lazily up your spine before settling onto the back of your head, fingers disappearing into your hair.

you turn to face him, your chin sitting on top of his muscular chest as you flutter you lashes, searching his face for reassurance. “how do you know?”

the corner of his mouth twitches. “because i said so.”

you don’t question him. you never really do. why would you? he was six foot & like 200 pounds of pure muscle. he’d never let anything happen to you.

so, you nod, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips before curling back beside him, your head tucked beneath his chin.

“i hate thinking that there’s really people out there that are just . . . that sick in the head.”

sukuna doesn’t say a word. he was too focused on the television as the news anchors continued listing injuries so grotesque they refuse to show any up close footage of the crime scene

he almost scoffs.

fools.

they weren’t even describing it correctly.

“. . . authorities believe the suspect is highly organized and extremely dangerous . . .”

you press yourself closer to sukuna.

he can feel every ounce of fear running through your body.

every tremble.

every soft gasp as the lead detective explains what motives they think could’ve made someone do something as heinous as this.

vigilante theory?

how generous of them to assume he cares about mortality.

multiple killers?

they’re underestimating how quickly one man can kill.

they were all just so wrong.

a slow smile settles into his face —— small enough that if you were looking, you’d never notice it.

there was something amusing about it.

his girlfriend was so scared of this monster she couldn’t even put a face to.

yet had no idea that the same man she was so afraid of was the rubbing her back to sleep right now.

[arkhiver]

thinking about how sukuna’s true form loves fucking you senseless while you’re tied up.

cw: minors dni. true form sukuna, piv sex, light bondage, praise kink, degradation kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, split kink

“use your words, sweetheart.” sukuna’s rough voice sounded even deeper in his true form. “what do you want, hm?”

you whimpered. two of his four arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you exactly where he wanted you. the other two worked separately; one between your thighs, the other teasing one of your breasts, drawing shaky sighs from your lips as your body drifted closer and closer to another orgasm.

your back pressed firmly against sukuna’s broad chest, your hands bound behind you. he moved his fingers with such effortless skill that it almost made you wonder how many years it had taken him to perfect the art of leaving you completely at his mercy.

then, without warning, the movements slowed until they stopped altogether.

the sharp sound echoed through the room, followed by the sting of a slap against your pussy, pulling a sound from you that was equal parts pleasure and frustration.

“i think i asked you something.” he said again.

you threw your head back until it found his shoulder. god, he was massive. huge in every direction. beside him, you felt small, dizzy, almost foolish.

“i… hm…” you tried to speak. “i want to cum. can i? please?”

your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, offering him your most sinful expression.

never in your wildest dreams had you imagined sukuna’s true form would be this… intense. until now, he had been content to use the form you were most familiar with, and even that had always been enough to leave you breathless.

two fingers slid inside you.

slow, deliberate movements followed, as though he were simply toying with your patience.

“ahh— ’kuna. fuck! fuck, shit!” you moaned, tightening your fists against your restraints. your knuckles had turned white from the desperate need to touch him.

the mouth in the palm of one of his hands opened. a tongue slipped out, circling your nipple.

every sensation blended together. sukuna’s fingers curled inside you, pressing against that spongy spot while the tongue worked at your chest, and suddenly stars burst behind your eyes. your legs began to tremble and burn, the heat in your stomach tightening and tightening until it felt like it was spreading through every inch of your body. you were so close to cumming that your senses seemed to have been thrown out the window entirely, your body on the verge of shattering from sheer pleasure.

“ahm… ’kuna… please! i need to cum. can i? please? fuck, i want to cum so bad” you pleaded.

sukuna laughed, and the deep, warm sound ran straight through you, pushing you even closer to the edge. you were so sensitive that it felt like a single look from him could make you cum pathetically.

“come.”

the orgasm hit you like a bolt of lightning.

your legs trembled harder now, your release running down sukuna’s thigh. you couldn’t see it, but you felt the tongue on his stomach sliding through your folds, lapping up every bit of it.

it was filthy and unbelievably good. almost enough to make you cum again, even though the tongue didn’t linger for very long.

“atta’girl. so pretty when you cum for me,” he said, snapping his fingers while you struggled — and failed — to catch your breath.

sukuna withdrew his fingers, and once again you whimpered in frustration. your needy cunt clenched around nothing, aching for his cock to be there instead.

sukuna climbed over you. his broad back nearly blocked out the light from the bedside lamp, and you found yourself rubbing your thighs together, still floating in the aftermath of your orgasm.

“brat. you barely came down from your orgasm and you’re already needy again,” he said, licking his lips as he watched you.

then sukuna lowered himself and began sucking at your breasts, leaving marks around your nipples, collarbones, and neck. marking you as his, just as he always had.

with a wet little plop! he finally pulled away. for a moment, you were able to admire sukuna’s true form in all its glory. somehow, he looked even bigger. the black markings you had long since memorized seemed to dance across his amber skin. undeniably beautiful.

your gaze inevitably dropped lower.

his cock was large and heavy. so enormous it nearly reached the mouth on his stomach. even thick felt like an inadequate word to describe it. despite all the times you had taken him before, a shiver still ran through you at the thought that maybe it wouldn’t fit. that was exactly why sukuna spent so much time preparing you before giving you his cock, making sure you were ready to take him.

he lowered himself over you again, this time pressing his mouth to your neck. all four arms spread around you, supporting his weight above your body while wandering freely along your curves whenever they pleased.

“open your mouth.” you obeyed immediately.

sukuna gathered saliva before spitting. you closed your lips and hummed softly at the taste. at some point he had licked his own fingers clean, and now you could taste both him and yourself mixed together.

you swallowed every drop, wishing your hands were free so you could collect any remaining traces and suck them from your fingertips. the sight made sukuna’s cock twitch and pulse. then, without warning, he pushed a few inches inside you.

“ah— fuck! so big… fuck, it’s too much, ’kuna!” you cried.

he lowered himself further, rocking his hips in and out while fucking you with only that small portion of his length. he was barely inside you, yet you felt him everywhere.

“you feel so good. i could fuck you with half my length and you’d still cum for me like the little slut you are.”

you opened your eyes and found him watching every of you, almost as though he could see straight through your soul.

you already felt overstimulated. only minutes ago you had been cumming. your cunt dripped onto the sheets, slick and release coating sukuna’s cock and forming a ring around it, drawing a pleased groan from him at the sight. he kept fucking you like that, and your body arched toward him in silent demand for more. understanding exactly what you wanted, sukuna finally sank all the way inside you.

your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure. a moan escaped your lips, and sukuna groaned as well, pleased by how easily a single movement could make you fold for him.

without another word, he turned you over while remaining buried inside you. all four arms spread across your body, touching you shamelessly. one hand returned to your clit, tracing lazy circles while he began thrusting into you in earnest.

skilled as ever, sukuna quickly found a rhythm that allowed him to keep moving his hand without disrupting his pace. every touch made your body curl further into itself. warm breath brushed against your ear, and somehow his voice sounded even rougher now.

instinctively, you tightened around him. the reaction drew a curse from his lips.

“cum for me again, ‘kay?” he murmured.

as though your body had completely surrendered itself to sukuna’s whims, the tension coiled in your stomach finally snapped. you moaned and cried out, loud enough that the neighbors would probably have something to say about it later. all the while, he kept fucking you through your orgasm, your release spilling around his cock.

“ah, fuck. yeah. just like this” sukuna groaned.

his thrusts only grew harder. he pulled his hand away, letting your torso fall fully against the mattress and opening you up even more for him. you could feel his balls striking against you with every movement. the sounds blended with your sweet moans, and the combination seemed to make something tighten in sukuna’s stomach as well.

then, without warning, you came again.

it was brief. you hadn’t even known you were capable of it, but it happened all the same. the orgasm tightened around sukuna’s cock, nearly drawing him in deeper, and the sensation made him pitch forward with a curse.

“oh. my. god.” it was all you could manage.

he planted one leg more firmly on the bed and sank even deeper into you, savoring every reaction he pulled from your body. the new angle left you dizzy, barely able to catch your breath.

you were a complete mess across the sheets. the sounds of sukuna’s movements were so wet they bordered on obscene, almost sinful. but he kept going, never once giving you a chance to recover.

by the time your vision finally cleared, it was sukuna’s turn.

he buried himself deep and came with a low groan, unable to handle this new discovery about your body any longer. thick ropes of release filled you, drawing your name from his lips in a pleased, breathless hum.

he finally pulled out, taking a moment to admire the mess he had made.

“you look so pretty like this. full of me,” he said, gathering some of what had spilled out and pushing it back inside.

“kuna! please, it’s too much!” you protested.

he only smiled.

moments later, the tongue on sukuna’s stomach was already between your thighs, cleaning up the mess he had made and greedily gathering every last drop.

another wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving your body limp against the sheets. only then did sukuna finally undo your restraints and lie down beside you.

the two of you nearly fell asleep right there in the aftermath.

after a bath and a fresh set of sheets, that was exactly what happened.

and, of course, whenever the opportunity presented itself, you always found yourself asking sukuna to fuck you like that again.

this was a request, but i feel like it ended up being a little repetitive. still, i hope the person who requested it enjoys it! i’ve been a little inactive lately because my birthday is next week. as a birthday present, i’d like a true form!sukuna. can someone get me? i can fix him. ♡

© arkhiver — 2026. do not copy, translate, repost, or feed my works to ai.

[darlingbambii]

husband!Higuruma coming home exhausted and fucking you slow in the bath (18+)

You swear you were just planning to collapse on the sofa when you got home. Maybe order some takeaway and watch some mindless TV show with your legs stretched across your husband's lap.

So, exactly how did you end up straddling Hiromi Higuruma in the bathtub, hot water sloshing over the edge as you sink down onto him?

"That's it, darling. Just like that."

Hiromi's voice is low and rough, strained in a way that makes heat slick down your spine and pool between your thighs. His hand grips your hips beneath the water surface, gently guiding you as you adjust to the stretch of him inside you.

You found him in here five minutes ago, tie discarded somewhere in the bedroom, shirt unbuttoned and abandoned on the bathroom floor. He'd been leaning back in the tub with his eyes closed, the water up to his chest, looking more exhausted than you'd seen him in weeks. The case he's working on is brutal, you know that. Long hours, impossible odds, the kind of work that wore him down.

"Join me?" he'd asked, opening one eye to look at you, and there was something so vulnerable in his expression that you couldn't refuse.

And that's how your own clothes joined him on the floor before you slipped into the bath with him.

Now his hair is wet and pushed back from his face, water droplets clinging to his jaw and the tip of his nose, and he's looking at you like you're the only thing that's keeping him from totally dissociating.

"Imissed you," you murmur, rolling your hips experimentally. The water makes everything feel different than it would be in the bedroom. More languid and slower, every shift and movement creating a ripple against your skin.

"Missed you too." His thumb traces circles on your hip bone, a tender gesture that contrasts with the way he's so deeply buried inside of you. "Missed you so much, I thought about you all day. I kept checking my watch, counting down the hours until I could see you again."

There's something unfairly attractive about him like this. His usually so composed in his suits and professional demeanour, now completely undone. His cheeks are flushed from the heat of the bath, his lips parted as he watches you move above him, and those tired, dark eyes are filled with something that makes your heart flutter.

"You're beautiful," he says, almost reverent, one hand leaving your hip to cup your face. Water drips from his fingers down your cheek. "Do you know that? How beautiful you are?"

You lean into his touch, your own hands braced on his shoulders for leverage. "You might have mentioned it a few times today before work.”

"Not enough, then." He pulls you down into a kiss, slow and deep, his tongue sliding against yours as you continue to move. When he pulls back, he's smiling—that rare, genuine smile that transforms his whole face. "I should tell you more often."

The water sloshes dangerously as you pick up your pace, and Hiromi makes a low sound of appreciation, his head falling back against the edge of the tub. His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, and you gasp at the sensation.

"That's my girl," he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. "Taking me so perfectly. You feel incredible."

There's something about the praise, the genuine affection in his tone, that makes everything feel more intense. This isn't just sex. It's comfort, connection, coming home to each other after a long day and finding solace in familiar touches.

"Hiromi," you breathe, your rhythm faltering as pleasure builds low in your stomach. "Fuck, I'm-"

"I know." One hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit with practised ease. The water makes his touch slippery, maddening, and you rock against his hand desperately. "I've got you. Come for me, darling."

His other hand tangles in your wet hair, pulling you down for another kiss as his hips start to move beneath you, meeting your movements with deep, purposeful thrusts that make the water splash over the side of the tub. But you just can't seem to bring yourself to care about the mess.

"So good to me," he murmurs against your lips. "So perfect. What did I do to deserve you?"

The combination of his fingers, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision blur, and his voice, fuck, that deep, sincere voice telling you how much he wants you, needs you, sends you over the edge. Your orgasm rolls through you in waves that seem to match the water around you, and you bury your face in his neck to muffle your moans.

"Beautiful," Hiromi groans, his rhythm becoming erratic as you clench around him. “You're so beautiful when you come undone for me."

He follows moments later, his grip on you tightening as he buries himself deep, your name falling from his lips like something precious. For a long moment, you stay like that, wrapped around each other in the cooling water, both breathing hard.

When you finally lift your head to look at him, his expression is soft, content in a way you rarely see. He reaches up to brush wet strands of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle.

"Thank you," he says quietly.

"For the sex?" you tease, though your voice is breathless.

"For coming home to me." He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "For being here."

You settle against his chest, the water lapping gently around you both. "Always," you murmur. "Though we should probably clean up this mess before it leaks through to our downstairs neighbour."

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your ear. "In a minute. Let me hold you first."

And really, how can you argue with that?

[cynosure-gaze]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭, 𝓢𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓾

Especially when, after a very tiring day, he's got you draped over him, his warm hands squeezing the pudge flesh of your plump ass, spreading it with his long fingers, while his other palm is warm over your heat, his fingers snug inside the cushioned walls of your pussy.

Soft whimpers and hiccups leave you as you bury your face in his neck, panting, a thin sheen of drool coating your lips which are swollen from you tucking it between your teeth. Opening your eyes, which are closing on their own from the pleasure, you mumble a whiney, "toruuu—" only to get shushed by him.

A tender smile splays on his lips, as the hand which had handfulls of your plump flesh slowly drags up to wrap around your waist, his thumb rubbing small soothing circles on your flushed skin. "C'mon, pretty girl, you won't tell your husband how you feel?" He drawls softly, his hand on your waist now caressing up your back gently before his fingers wrap around your jaw, slightly smushing your cheeks in the process, your lips forming a soft pout as he lifts it to meet your eyes with his.

"i thought we talked about this, sweetheart. But if you don't use your big girl words, I think I'll have to just—" He slides his fingers out making your pussy convulse around nothing as a sob escapes you, your fingers grabbing fistfulls of his shirt at his chest. As he shushes and coos at you again. Tauntingly.

"see, crying like that will get ya no where. If you tell me what I wanna hear, perhaps, I'll let you have what you want, hm?" His eyes twinkle with amusement as you babble away a string of 'please's and 'i want you's looking alllll pathetic and needy for him. "Aww, look at you, sweet, sweet girl. Missed me that much, huh?" You nod desperately jerking your hips back with a cry. "Ah.." He says, tutting softly. "I know, I know, baby, trust me, you're making me so hard right now. I don't think I'll be able to hold much longer. But, but, but, I wanna make sure, hm? That you get what you want?" His fingers begin to circle and flick at the cute lil nub making you twitch, as your pussy spurts out creamy little drops in despair coating your thighs. "Now, tell me, sweets. Loud and clear."

"please!—i hah—" His palm cracks against the soft slope making you cry out and sniffle in his neck.

"I'm hearing you, wife. Go on. Don't stop on my account." He chuckles mocking you relentlessly, making you hiccup, your glassy eyes gazing up at him pleadingly. His breath hitches before a shaky sigh leaves him.

"You really would kill me with those eyes of yours one day. And this cute lil face." He lets go of your cheeks, giving it a pat before gently grasping your waist while his fingers dip back into your pussy. Soft cries leave your lips as you clinged onto him, draped over the warm expanse of his body as he fucked your sweet little pussy with his fingers nice and slow, making you cream around his digits, trembling as he whispered sweet tauntings the whole time of how weak your pussy is and how she doesn't wanna let him go.

And neither did you.

"Are you okay, sweets? Tired much? Wanna cuddle? I'll spoon ya, all nice 'nd warm, see?"

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭.

I sawww this yummy fanart (i forgot the account) But it's not mine! And they wanted someone to make a blurb or anything. So i came up with this. I'm working on the request regarding Hiromi Higuruma. Till then, enjoy this one! (I hope you guys do!) And forgive any grammatical errors because i didn't proofread, dividers don't belong to me so all credits go to the respective owners💓

[cynosure-gaze]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭, 𝓢𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓾

Especially when, after a very tiring day, he's got you draped over him, his warm hands squeezing the pudge flesh of your plump ass, spreading it with his long fingers, while his other palm is warm over your heat, his fingers snug inside the cushioned walls of your pussy.

Soft whimpers and hiccups leave you as you bury your face in his neck, panting, a thin sheen of drool coating your lips which are swollen from you tucking it between your teeth. Opening your eyes, which are closing on their own from the pleasure, you mumble a whiney, "toruuu—" only to get shushed by him.

A tender smile splays on his lips, as the hand which had handfulls of your plump flesh slowly drags up to wrap around your waist, his thumb rubbing small soothing circles on your flushed skin. "C'mon, pretty girl, you won't tell your husband how you feel?" He drawls softly, his hand on your waist now caressing up your back gently before his fingers wrap around your jaw, slightly smushing your cheeks in the process, your lips forming a soft pout as he lifts it to meet your eyes with his.

"i thought we talked about this, sweetheart. But if you don't use your big girl words, I think I'll have to just—" He slides his fingers out making your pussy convulse around nothing as a sob escapes you, your fingers grabbing fistfulls of his shirt at his chest. As he shushes and coos at you again. Tauntingly.

"see, crying like that will get ya no where. If you tell me what I wanna hear, perhaps, I'll let you have what you want, hm?" His eyes twinkle with amusement as you babble away a string of 'please's and 'i want you's looking alllll pathetic and needy for him. "Aww, look at you, sweet, sweet girl. Missed me that much, huh?" You nod desperately jerking your hips back with a cry. "Ah.." He says, tutting softly. "I know, I know, baby, trust me, you're making me so hard right now. I don't think I'll be able to hold much longer. But, but, but, I wanna make sure, hm? That you get what you want?" His fingers begin to circle and flick at the cute lil nub making you twitch, as your pussy spurts out creamy little drops in despair coating your thighs. "Now, tell me, sweets. Loud and clear."

"please!—i hah—" His palm cracks against the soft slope making you cry out and sniffle in his neck.

"I'm hearing you, wife. Go on. Don't stop on my account." He chuckles mocking you relentlessly, making you hiccup, your glassy eyes gazing up at him pleadingly. His breath hitches before a shaky sigh leaves him.

"You really would kill me with those eyes of yours one day. And this cute lil face." He lets go of your cheeks, giving it a pat before gently grasping your waist while his fingers dip back into your pussy. Soft cries leave your lips as you clinged onto him, draped over the warm expanse of his body as he fucked your sweet little pussy with his fingers nice and slow, making you cream around his digits, trembling as he whispered sweet tauntings the whole time of how weak your pussy is and how she doesn't wanna let him go.

And neither did you.

"Are you okay, sweets? Tired much? Wanna cuddle? I'll spoon ya, all nice 'nd warm, see?"

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭.

I sawww this yummy fanart (i forgot the account) But it's not mine! And they wanted someone to make a blurb or anything. So i came up with this. I'm working on the request regarding Hiromi Higuruma. Till then, enjoy this one! (I hope you guys do!) And forgive any grammatical errors because i didn't proofread, dividers don't belong to me so all credits go to the respective owners💓

[strangergraphics]

blue dividers part three:

please like and credit if you use, reblogs are appreciated! thank you! 💕

[feveredvisions]

The blue flowers got my heart!!