bad boy!kuna who loves when you wrap your arms around his waist when you're on his bike. he increases the speed purposely to make you hold onto him tighter and press the side of your face against his back. "you scared gorgeous?", he laughs at you with a mocking tone.
bad boy!kuna who just loves your ass. he likes to grip it, to slap it, to feel it on his face when you sit on him, or the way you grind your ass onto his hard on when you sit on his lap. whatever the case, he just loves it, and he's not afraid to show it. often times smacking it in public to assert dominance and send a signal to everyone that you're his.
bad boy!kuna who grips your hips hard enough to leave crescent shaped bruises on your hips while you ride him oh so good. he just can't help but to start thrusting upwards into you, his teeth clenched, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, drool dripping from the side of his mouth and his chest and cheeks flushed. it's a great sight to behold.
bad boy!kuna who loves sucking on your pretty tits. mostly spending his time biting, sucking and licking your nipples until your sensitive and if you try to shove him away, he grabs your wrists and pins your hands behind you. "i'm not finished, baby.", and he's back to sucking on them groaning and moaning loudly into your skin
bad boy!kuna who would only moan for you when he knows you're alone. he loves the way your pussy clenches on his hard cock when he does, so why not do what? it clearly arouses you a lot. but if you're having a session in a semi-public area, he has to keep his mouth shut either by aggressively pulling you into a heated kiss or biting his lip or your shoulder as he lets out low groans.
bad boy!kuna who prioritizes your pleasure over his, making sure that before he shoves his dick in you that you've already come on his fingers or his mouth. whichever works for him. he just likes to see your eyes already half-lidded before sliding into your now sensitive pussy.
bad boy!kuna who takes very good care of your after you heated sessions, cleaning you up and helping you put on a clean underwear and cuddling you close and kissing the bite marks he left on your skin. "oh poor, baby..." smooch "i'm sorry" smooch "i didn't mean to hurt you. let me up for it... yeah...?"
These types of things rarely phase you anymore. Moving hair away from someoneâs face, tucking in a stray bra strap, even misting someoneâs clothes or reapplying body oil. Work is work. Itâs all part of the job. Some people are a little awkward about it, sending you a nervous smile between avoiding eye contact, some try to do it themselves, or request help from an assistant. Most just act like itâs as normal as being handed another drink from your waiter. Itâs all part of the job.
You even think nothing of shoots like the one youâd had scheduled for today. Whether itâs a nearly nude male model or someone more sports-related, oiling muscles doesnât have much of the appeal most people would think it does between standing otherwise bored on the sidelines and waiting to be shouted in between shots. You stand by, working on another person if youâre lucky, and sometimes even wait a moment as they do push ups or sit ups, making sure their muscles are as pronounced as possible for whatever ad or promo the pictures were for. It becomes mundane after the 50th time youâve done it, trying not to check your watch as you wait to move on to the next one.
Thatâs why your reaction to this man is⊠odd. Hair and makeup is already done, the lighting is set up, and time is money, but here you are with your little bottle of oil and suddenly unable to speak up to get his attention so you can do your job just the same as any other day. Heâs just so big and intimidating and you havenât even seen the front of him yet. Itâs just you and the wide expanse of his tattooed back, triceps pronounced from the way his arms were crossed. You only know thereâs someone standing in front of him because you can hear them speaking to him. But you have things to do, so finding your voice to announce your presence needed to happen soother rather than later-
Then he turns, before you have an opportunity to get your wits about you, and casts an amused glance down at you. He takes in your face, then his eyes trail lower until they rest on the bottle in your hands. âWhatâs this?â
His voice, deep and smooth and low enough that he makes sure youâre really listening, snaps you out of it. âI need to oil you up⊠if thatâs alright?â
He smiles, uncrossing his long arms, spreading them wide, presenting you with all of his glory. âGo on.â
You get to work, deciding against making conversation, not that he seemed the type for idle chit chat. You pump the oil into your palm, slotting the bottle into a small holder in your belt containing other items needed for sudden touch-ups. The sound of you rubbing the slick oil between your hands had never been so suggestive before now, but it makes the blood rush to your face quickly enough that youâre pushed i to putting your hands on his body without hesitation just to stop it.
Not that it makes those unprofessional thoughts any easier to keep at bay, though youâre thankful for the other man that had continued speaking, hopefully taking attention away from how hard you were finding it to act like this was business as usual. Your glistening hands meet his sides, and his skin is so warm itâs as though the oil is heated immediately upon contact. Palms slide easily along the contours of his muscles, gliding forward once you were far above his belt, but finding no relief when the hardness of his muscle makes way for your fingers dipping lightly into the plushness of his chest. You all but avoid his nipples at first, but then that feels too obvious as you circle around them to coat his chest well.
Luckily you have reason to pull your hands away, finding the trail left behind shining much less than was needed, and you pump more oil from your belt. This time you start at his shoulders, taking it as a safe bet to get your mind off objectifying this mountain of a man, but that only brings your eyes into view of his. They arenât on the person speaking to him, as you had assumed, theyâre on you. Watching you, corners wrinkling in a hint of a satisfied smile. You look down as quickly as youâd looked up, rubbing the oil into his shoulders slightly more roughly, feeling the burn in your calves of being on your tiptoes to reach them.
Once youâre working a third palmful of oil into his arms you canât help but notice the darkened sheen of his tattoos, and the way they seem to flow with the contours of his body perfectly⊠then youâre circling behind him, happy not to feel that gaze burning a hole through you as you work on his back. Itâs much easier when you know he isnât looking and much easier when youâre free to look without feeling quite so unprofessional.
Then itâs the part you had initially avoided, and it seems he knows it as he turns to you, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants just to tug it a little bit lower. âHere.â
He says it helpfully enough that you chance a look upwards, and the way his upper lip is every so slightly curled, drinking in your every move, leaves you dizzy. So you look down again, getting more oil and rubbing down his abs. You work lower, lower, just where his waistband will sit when he releases his pants, but youâd be lying if you said your fingertips didnât ride the lineâbrushing through the rough dusting of hair leading downward from his navel.
You jump when he releases his hands, allowing the elastic of his briefs to snap against your fingers. You pull them back, clasping your hands together, though only your pride was hurt as he smiles down at you.
He runs his hands over his body, enjoying the way the hot studio lights bounce off of his oiled muscles, then his eyes flick back up to meet yours. âYouâre welcome.â
Uraume frowned. Somehow you had ended up in the kitchen. A sacred place that only they and Sukuna had the permission to enter but you had simply waltz in like you owned the place and were now sitting on one of the selves in a loaf position with your eyes closed.
"You are lucky that Master Sukuna favors you, cat. If you were another, he would have eaten you by now. Do not assume that the lord is unfamiliar with cat meat." Uraume warned.
You yawned and opened your eyes to stare at them.
You were testing Uraume's patience because the next thing you did was sit up and nudge the small bowl next to you off the ledge with your tiny paw.
"Noâ"
Crash!
You stared at the broken bowl curiously before resuming your usual loaf position again.
Uraume, on the other hand, glared at you. They were about to chuck you outside when Sukuna walked in.
"Uraume."
Uraume bowed quickly. "Master Sukuna. Forgive me if you were disturbedâ"
"It's fine. I was simply passing by." Sukuna dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Prepare the meat for me, I'm starving."
You suddenly jumped down and went over to rub yourself against his leg, purring loudly.
"Mrew!!"
"Oh. It's you, Brat."
He raised his eyebrow when you started tugging at the hem of his hakama pants with your sharp teeth.
Then you suddenly pulled away and ran towards the parted shoji screen leading to the garden. You stopped and turned back, your tail swishing back and forth.
"Meow!!"
"I believe... The cat wants you to follow it, Master Sukuna." Uraume suggested.
Sukuna crossed his arms, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "That so? Quite a brave thing to command me like this." He smirked at you who were patiently waiting for Sukuna, your eyes following his every movement.
He chuckled. "Fine, I'll entertain you. You're lucky I'm bored and in a good mood. Lead the way." He said, walking over to you. Your ears perked up and you ran off into the garden with Sukuna strolling behind you.
You ran until finally he saw you crawling into a bush. Sukuna frowned when he heard tiny, little noises coming from where you were.
And then suddenly you came back, holding a kitten by the scruff of its neck. You gently placed it in front of Sukuna and looked up at him.
The King of Curses snorted. "You brought me all this way here to show me your weak, little spawn?"
You looked back down at your kitten and gently nudged it.
When the kitten looked up, that's when Sukuna got a good look at it.
It was deformed. Two faces on that fragile, little body. The cat had three eyes, two noses and two mouths. It looked up at him while weakly wobbling on its small, little legs.
"Meow."
The soft, weak meow came from one of its mouth while the other remained shut. You gently nuzzled your kitten, before giving it a lick on the head.
You looked back at Sukuna, tilting your head as you watched him silently bend down. He scooped up the kitten in one of his large hands while picking you up with the other.
You purred softly, licking his hand as he carried the both of you back inside.
"Uraume." He called out when he spotted them in the kitchen busy preparing his food. "Bring an extra blanket to my room as well."
Uraume was confused at the command but then noticed you and the tiny, little deformed kitten curled up in his hands.
Sukuna tsked, glaring at you from his spot at the engawa. One hand holding a scroll, another a skewer of meat prepared by Uraume.
Your nose twitched and you rolled to your back, looking at him cutely.
"What's this? Learned a new trick?"
"Mraow." Your meow mixing with your purr as you rolled around on the ground before looking back at him. Your tail swishing back and forth.
The King of Curses looked amused. "Hmph, fine. Since you're so hell bent on trying to amuse me, here." He tossed a piece of meat at you.
He laughed at how you scrambled to your feet to catch the piece. "Pathetic."
And then he went back to reading his scroll.
Few minutes later, Sukuna felt a tiny weight on his lap.
He raised his eyebrow as you settled yourself on his lap, tucking your paws and legs in. You looked up at him.
"Mraow!!" You said, purring loudly.
And then you started grooming yourself as if you weren't on the lap of the most dangerous man in existence.
Sukuna laughed before grinning. "Oh, what a bold, little thing you are."
He lifted his lower hand and scratched behind your ear, you leaned into his touch. "If you were a human, you wouldn't even dare to breathe in front of me."
"Mrrpp..." You curled into a ball and closed your eyes, ready to go to sleep. He clicked his tongue and frowned.
"Hey, who gave you permission to fall asleep?"
But you didn't budge, snuggling deeper into his lap. Your breathing evening out.
Sukuna stared at you, his expression neutral before he let out a "Hmph" and went back to reading his scroll. His large hand still absentmindedly scratching your ear.
A few hours later, Uraume came by.
"Master Suâ" They paused, completely caught off guard by you sprawled on his lap before they quickly composed themselves.
"Master Sukuna, dinner is ready."
"Mm."
Sukuna was about to get up then remembered you, the little inconvenience. He frowned at you for a good whole minute. But then he looked up in thought, scratching the back of his neck. And then finally he looked at Uraume.
âĄïž warnings: fem bodied reader (no pronouns used), cockwarming, established relationship, teasing
You were surprised when Sukuna had suggested something like this. It just seemed like the opposite of how your sex life had been with him. It was always intense, impulsive, indulgent.
But this was a different type of intense for him, because as much as Sukuna took pleasure in indulging whenever and however his whims decided, he also took pleasure in restraint.
If you can call sitting on his softened cock with your legs spread wide as he lazily pets at where the two of you are joined ârestraint.â Itâs like your drooling pussy is a cat settled in his lap, his fingers sliding over the base of himself, then along your folds stretched round him even at his smallest, then dragging lightly across your swollen clit.
You were practically purring for him, after all, whining out for the dozenth time, âWhen can I move?â
âBe patient. Iâm enjoying your warmth.â
Your legs have a tremble on the horizon, one you try to keep hidden, but Sukuna knows your body all too well. He huffs, and speaks as though he were being oh so merciful with you, âDo I need to distract you?â
Biting at your lower lip is as much a habit when trying to parse your thoughts as it is an attempt to keep from making a less-than-composed noise every time he speaks in that low, drawn out way that has your stomach in hungry knots. What you really need is for him to put an end to this relentless teasing, but thereâs always that feeling in the back of your mind that you want to try your very best not to disappoint. If heâs showing restraint, so should you.
But heâs soft, relaxed, looking as though he were in a sunny garden listening to bird sound with nothing on his mind and no particular action on his scheduleâand youâre wet enough that you donât even have to look down to know his balls are soaked in your juices.
âAnswer.â
âYesâŠâ
He doesnât chide you for dragging your feet with his question, he doesnât chastise you for not living up to whatever potential heâd assessed for you, he just asks you another question. âDo I feel different while soft?â
âUm⊠yes.â
âTell me, describe it.â
âItâs like itâs⊠heavier.â
âMm?â
âLike itâs just⊠stretching me⊠so muchâŠâ
He finally stops his gentle petting, but instead settles his fingers pressed along your folds, spreading you even further. âEven though you can take much more than that for me?â
You realize then that heâs only testing you further, and youâll have to try a lot harder to please him, before heâll please you.
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