Her body had grown cold long before you reached the top of the mountain. She had been the pride of the village. The type of vain beauty placed upon Earth once every few centuries. The elders said she would be the most fitting offering, but you weren’t sure if it was because of her looks, or because no one would miss her. Either way, she was rotting now, and the silk you had wrapped her in was stained through with blood and dew.

Another round of agonizing hours passed before you found yourself uncontrollably shaking, and it wasn’t because of your exhaustion. You were shaking because you finally reached the shrine at the top of the mountain and the air itself no longer welcomed you. It crouched there like a beast waiting for breath. The shrine was carved from black stone and etched in ancient talismans that fluttered without wind. It didn’t look built. It looked like it grew from the soil. It looked like it was alive and watching you.

There was no time to waste being afraid, so you swallowed down your fear and dragged the girl to the altar. The blood-stained stone scraped beneath her weight with a sound that made your teeth ache. Every pull felt like you were carving your intentions into the mountain itself, leaving proof behind in case you didn’t make it back down. You had to brace your hands against the altar to lift the body, muscles screaming in protest as you heaved her up. She landed with a dull thud, head lolling to the side and glassy eyes staring at nothing.

You forced yourself not to apologize as you pulled your palms away. At this point it was hard to decipher if they were slick from the blood, sweat, or both. You wiped them on your skirt and stood there for a moment, breathing hard, your chest rising and falling like you had just run for your life.

The shrine felt closer now but not in the physical sense. It was the same size, the same looming, skeletal thing carved into the mountain’s face, but it felt aware. Like you had finally stepped into the center of its attention. The air pressed against your skin, heavy and warm, like a hand resting just a little too long on your shoulder.

You swallowed but your throat was dry and your tongue felt too big for your mouth. Every story you had ever heard about the King of Curses crowded behind your eyes. Cities reduced to bone and ash. Men screaming themselves hoarse before dying. Women vanishing into shrines like this one and never returning.

A deep breath escaped your mouth before you took a step back from the altar and dropped to your knees. The stone was cold, biting even through the fabric of your skirt. You bowed your head, hair spilling forward to hide your face, and pressed your palms flat against the ground in front of you.

And then you spoke. Your voice sounded small in the vastness of the shrine. Too human. Too fragile. “Ryomen Sukuna,” you said each syllable carefully, like if you mispronounced his name it would result in automatic death. “King of Curses.”

The words hung in the air, trembling. “I have come before you with an offering.”

Your eyes flicked, despite yourself, to the body on the altar. The most beautiful woman in your clan. High cheekbones. Full lips still stained with ceremonial paint. Hair braided with care, adorned as if for a wedding rather than death. She looked almost peaceful… if you ignored the dark mark around her throat.

“I was told you accept only what is most precious,” you continued, voice wavering despite your efforts. “She was… she was admired by many.”

You swallowed again, harder this time. “I ask not for wealth. Nor for victory.” Your hands curled into fists against the stone. “I-I ask for protection.”

The silence deepened and your heartbeat thundered in your ears. You could feel it in your wrists, your neck, and between your thighs where fear pooled warm and humiliating. You held your breath, waiting for the mountain to split, for the shrine to collapse, for claws to wrap around your throat. Instead, the air shifted. It wasn’t loud or sudden, it was subtle and wrong, like the moment before a tsunami strikes a city. The hairs along your arms rose and your skin prickled, as if something massive had turned its gaze fully on you.

Suddenly it felt like your lungs were on fire and you realized you had stopped breathing before sucking in a gulp of air. “I-I am to be married in two weeks,” you said quickly, the words spilling now, urgency bleeding through your composure. “To a man who rules a neighboring clan. A cruel man. A powerful one. If he turns his blade toward my people, we will not survive.”

Your voice dropped, nearly a whisper. “So… I came to you.”

The stone beneath your hands began to vibrate. At first you thought it was your imagination and your nerves finally snapping under the weight of what you were doing. But then the altar trembled too. Fine cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, thin as veins beneath skin. Dust sifted down from the shrine ceiling, drifting like ash.

The body on the altar twitched and your breath caught painfully in your chest. “No,” you whispered, barely aware you had spoken.

The corpse jerked again, sharper this time, spine contorting unnaturally. Her head snapped forward with a wet crack, chin dropping to her chest. A low, unfamiliar sound rolled through the shrine, not quite a growl or laughter but something in between. Then a great pressure hit you all at once. It slammed into your back, forcing you forward until your forehead nearly touched the stone. Your ears rang and for a second you thought you were going blind. It felt like the mountain itself had decided you were too small, insignificant, and unworthy to request protection.

Then you felt him. Not his hands or his breath, Him. 

A presence so vast it eclipsed everything else. It felt older than time itself while embedded with a bloodthirsty aura that sent chills down your spine. 

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Your muscles locked and your pulse spiked as heat flooded low in your belly, shameful and unwanted, curling tight alongside terror. Every instinct you had screamed at you to run, to beg or disappear, but you stayed. Because this was the price. Because your people were counting on you. And somewhere in the dark above the altar, something smiled… wide, sharp, and very, very interested.

Curiosity mixed with fear clouded your judgment and you dared to lift your head. And there he was. Emerging not from a doorway, but tearing through the space behind the altar as though reality itself bent to let him in. The stone around him cracked and light bent to his will. Standing at the center of it all was a creature too vast and monstrous, to be mistaken for anything less than godlike.

Ryomen Sukuna

Four arms, each corded with muscle and inked in black lines that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. Four eyes, two narrowed at you with undisguised repulsion, the other two above them watching everything at once. A smirk cut across his mouth like a wound. His presence alone made your knees give and you dropped your head back down to the cold stone, breathing hard.

He didn’t speak, he only stared. And then, without ceremony, he crushed the offering with a flick of his wrist. The woman’s body caved in, bones collapsing in on themselves like brittle sticks. Her jaw dislocated, ribs folded inward, and her skin puckered before rupturing in a wet burst. You screamed before you could stop yourself, the sound strangled and sharp as blood sprayed across the altar.

Some of it landed on your cheek and Sukuna didn’t flinch at the sight. He barely looked at the mess he caused because his focus was on you. 

“That,” he finally said, voice like razorwire sinking into warm honey, “was an insult.” The words landed heavier than the mountain air. He wasn’t loud but he spoke with the bored finality of something that had ended cities over less.

You bowed harder instinctively, forehead nearly breaking through stone. “I didn’t mean—”

“Meaning doesn’t matter,” Sukuna interrupted. He stepped forward, the hem of his white kimono whispering against the floor, immaculate despite the blood and ruin around him. The fabric glowed faintly against his bronze skin, stark and ceremonial, cinched tight at the waist where black hakama pants that fell in sharp, disciplined lines down powerful legs. In the dim light he looked less like a beast now and more like a god who had chosen to dress himself properly before passing judgment.

“You brought me a dead woman dressed like a bride,” he continued, circling the altar with lazy contempt. “As if I’d be impressed by silk and symmetry. As if beauty has ever meant anything to me.”

One of his upper hands flicked toward the remains. A once beautiful corpse now folded in on itself. You gasped, nails digging into your palms.

Sukuna didn’t even glance at the destruction. “Back when people still knew how to pray,” he went on, tone drifting between eras, “they didn’t dress their sacrifices up. They came screaming. Bleeding. Alive… They understood worship was fear, not decoration.”

He stopped in front of you. You could feel him there without looking. His aura radiated heat, pressure and a vast crushing presence that curled around your spine like a warning.

“Lift your head,” he said. The command was quiet and you obeyed with no hesitation. All four of his garnet eyes fixed on you at once, pupils narrowing in interest rather than anger now. His expression shifted, the sneer easing into something sharper and calculated. 

“Hm.” One of his upper arms reached out, clawed fingers catching under your chin, tilting your face this way and that as if inspecting a flawed artifact. “Are you sure that you aren’t the ‘beautiful’ offering from your village?”

Shame burned hot under your skin as you quickly shook your head. “No,” you whispered.

“But you climbed my mountain,” he said. “You dragged a body twice your weight through terrain that kills men for sport. You didn’t faint. You didn’t piss yourself. And you didn’t run when I arrived.”

His thumb pressed lightly into your jaw. Just enough to make your breath stutter. “That tells me more than a pretty corpse ever could.”

The mouth on his stomach peeled open slowly, teeth glinting as it inhaled. Its tongue slid out, tasting the air between you. “You smell untouched,” Sukuna grunted. “Old blood. New fear. And that sweet little note right underneath…” He hummed, pleased. “Yeah. Still sealed. Still ignorant.”

Your thighs tightened without permission and he noticed.

A low chuckle rolled from his chest. “Don’t do that,” he said lazily. “You’ll embarrass yourself.”

Two of his lower hands slid in front of him, sleeves of the kimono shifting as he folded his arms, posture relaxed, dominant and utterly at home in your terror. “Let’s get something straight, little human. I’m not some shrine spirit you bribe with flowers and folklore. I’m older than your bloodlines. I watched languages die. I watched gods get soft.”

His intense gaze dropped deliberately, slowly, over your body. “You want protection,” he continued. “You want me to keep your fragile little clan breathing when the man you’re promised to decides he’s bored of peace.” 

He leaned closer, voice lowering. “That kind of protection doesn’t come cheap.”

You swallowed before stuttering. “I-I know.”

“No,” Sukuna said softly. “You don’t.”

The words settled into you like a curse being etched bone‑deep. He moved then, close enough that the heat of him swallowed the air between you. His kimono brushed your shoulder and you caught the faint scent of incense and iron clinging to him.

“You think you know,” he continued, voice layered with centuries of annoyance. “You’ve been told stories by trembling elders who’ve never looked me in the eye and you’ve memorized prayers watered down by fear. That’s not knowledge.”

One of his upper hands came to rest beside your head, palm flattening against the stone with a quiet finality. The other followed, caging you in. You were suddenly very aware of how small you were and how easily this seven foot monster could fold you into the altar if he wanted to.

“Knowing,” Sukuna whispered, leaning in until his breath skimmed your ear, “is when the price is standing in front of you… and you don’t get to look away.”

You fought the urge to turn your head, retreat or shrink. Instead, you stayed still and kept your spine rigid.

That earned you a low, surprised huff of laughter. “Hah. You’re not shaking as much now,” he observed. “Still terrified. But there’s resolve there...”

His gaze slid over you again, unhurried and unapologetic. It wasn’t hunger yet, it was a pure assessment. “In my time,” he said, tone drifting ancient again, “people offered themselves knowing they’d be erased. No names. No legacy. Just a moment of usefulness before oblivion.”

His lower hand lifted, stopping just short of touching you. Close enough that your skin tingled, nerves screaming at the absence. “You,” he went on, amused, “want to walk away alive and protected. You want me to stand between your fragile little clan and a man who thinks power comes from titles and armies.”

The mouth on his stomach opened slowly, teeth glinting as it spoke in a rougher echo of his voice, layered and obscene. “Greedy.”

Somehow the voice of his stomach sounded more deranged than he did and your breath staggered in your throat.

Sukuna smiled at that. “See? You didn’t even know I’d ask for more than flesh.”

He straightened slightly, just enough to look down at you properly, four eyes narrowing in something like satisfaction. “I don’t take payment the way your world does,” he said. “I take leverage. I take things that don’t rot.”

His fingers finally touched you then, not where you expected, but at your wrist. He turned your hand palm‑up, examining it like he was determining where to start devouring you. “You came willing,” he said. “That matters. Fear with no choice is boring. Fear with intent…” His thumb pressed harder into your wrist, testing how much pressure it could take before splitting. “That’s devotion.”

You swallowed again, throat tight. “What do you want?” The question escaped before you could stop it.

Sukuna’s brows lifted slightly. Then he laughed, deep and rich, the sound echoing through the shrine and vibrating in your chest. “Careful,” he warned. “That’s the kind of question that changes your life. For now?” he continued. “I want to see how badly you want them safe.”

His grip tightened just enough to remind you who once again you were kneeling before. “And then,” he added, voice dripping in arrogance, “we’ll talk about cost.”

Sukuna’s eyes lingered on you a moment longer, all four of them, each drinking in a different part of you. And then without warning, he turned his back to you. Not carelessly, but deliberately and dismissively, like a god expecting to be followed. He descended back into the shadows and his bare feet made no sound on the stone, yet each step echoed like thunder through the bones of the shrine. You stayed on your knees, breath still caught in your throat, unsure if he meant to leave you there.

He didn’t turn to look at you and he didn’t have to. “Come,” Sukuna said lazily. “Unless your legs are too weak to carry what little courage you have left.”

You quickly rose to your feet like a puppet whose strings were being pulled by their master. No other commands were given as you silently followed him through the shadows. The shrines' inner doors were massive and carved with symbols you couldn’t decipher. They parted at Sukuna’s presence alone, opening into the belly of his domain. 

This shrine wasn’t just a building, it was an extension of him. The walls pulsed faintly, smooth and dark, lined with inhuman texture like obsidian and bone fused into one. The light was dim but not shadowed, like it filtered through layers of blood rather than air. You couldn’t see a flame, and yet everything shimmered in a deep, ruddy glow. He led you down a narrow corridor lined with prayer scrolls and curses painted in ancient script, before he stopped and the room beyond that opened like a sanctum. Sukuna’s private domain was circular with no windows, only a platform in the center draped in silks, worn smooth by time. 

After minutes of agonizing silence, Sukuna turned to face you finally and smiled. His smile wasn’t kind or inviting; it was the way a cat smiles when it sees a mouse walk directly into its paws. 

“Take off your shoes,” he said simply.

You hesitated for a millisecond and he raised an eyebrow. To avoid making him repeat himself, you quickly stepped out of your footwear, trying not to flinch at the way his eyes flicked down. He wasn’t just judging the act, but how you did it. Your toes curled against the stone and you felt bare, stripped more by his attention than the removal of clothing.

He stepped forward until the space between you vanished. The mouth on his stomach curled open again, its tongue flicking out to taste the air just inches from your breastbone. And still, he didn’t touch. “I can feel your pulse from here,” he murmured. “It’s dancing.”

“I’m not afraid,” you lied.

He grinned like you had handed him a gift. “Oh, little thing,” he purred. “That’s the best lie you’ve told so far.”

One of his lower hands reached out and hooked a finger beneath the fabric of your collar, pulling it slightly to the side. Not off or down, Just enough for the air to kiss your shoulder and for him to see the line where your skin warmed with nerves.

He watched as gravity pulled the fabric down a few more inches before turning away from you and walking towards the platform. He sat down with his back straight and perfectly composed atop his nest of layered silks. His kimono folded around him with regal precision as one upper hand draped over his knee. The other rested near his side, claws tapping the covered stone in idle rhythm.

He regarded you now like a king addressing a subject. Or a god deciding whether to indulge a mortal. “You want my protection,” he said. “That was your bargain.”

You nodded.

“And you offered yourself in exchange.”

You nodded once again but this time it was careful and controlled as your heartbeat began hammering in your ears.

His voice filled the space between you, curling with that ancient cadence only monsters born from worship ever mastered. “And what exactly are you offering me, woman?” His head tilted slightly as his lower arms rested over his thighs. The upper set folded across his broad chest and his kimono was completely loose now, revealing the full canvas of black ink spread over his pale, muscled skin like scripture long forgotten by man.

You swallowed hard. “I-I offer myself.”

“I heard you the first time,” he replied, tone edged with dry amusement. “But you keep saying it like it means something.”

He unfolded his arms and leaned forward, his knees spreading further apart. The silk beneath him rustled softly, a hiss of invitation or warning, you couldn’t tell which. His long legs bracketed the space in front of him like a throne awaiting a supplicant.

“Strip.”

The word struck like a whip and you froze like a deer in headlights. Not because you were unwilling, but because you expected it… and still weren’t ready.

Sukuna smiled slowly, cruelly. “There it is,” he said, voice velvet-wrapped steel. “That hesitation. That lovely little crack in your spine.”

You couldn’t breathe as your fingers hovered near the edge of your dress, shame and heat washing over your skin like a fever. You had never undressed in front of anyone. Not like this. Not for a monster who watched you like your skin was already his.

“I didn’t ask you to think,” he said. “I gave you a command.”

You stepped forward into the circle of silk and tension, barefoot, chest tight. Then, with trembling fingers, you reached for the sash tied at your waist. The fabric was stiff with dried blood and mountain dew, clinging to you like resistance. You pulled at the fabric until the knot came loose and the outer wrap fell open. The white linen shift underneath was thinner, semi-transparent in the fire-lit gloom of his domain, causing the outline of your breasts to be visible beneath the fabric. Your nipples tightened from the chill and his gaze dropped to them instantly, four ruby red eyes darkening with something more dangerous than lust.

“Take. It. Off.”

The way he spoke to you sent a tremor down your spine and caused heat to pool in your lower belly. You slipped the shift down your shoulders. It fell inch by inch, catching on the curve of your hips before sliding to your ankles in a soft sigh. The air bit at your bare skin, but Sukuna’s glare that burned hotter than hell itself kept you warm. You stood naked in front of a god and your hands impulsively twitched at your sides.

“No,” he said sharply. “Don’t cover yourself. That would imply shame. And you chose this, didn’t you?”

You nodded, throat tight.

“Say it.”

“I… I chose this,” you whispered.

“Louder.”

“I chose this!”

A devious smirk crawled across his face before standing up. “Better.”

Sukuna rose from his seated throne like a wave rising to consume the shore, his kimono slipped loose from one shoulder to reveal the full breadth of his torso. It was impossible not to stare as his muscles rippled underneath his skin and the mouth on his stomach grinned wide as it opened fully.

You flinched and he saw it. His second mouth let out a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a growl. “You were prettier clothed,” Sukuna said thoughtfully. “But you’ll be useful like this.” His words slapped harder than a hand. He didn’t say them to hurt you, he said them because he believed them. Because to Sukuna, the King of Curses, beauty meant nothing unless it bent.

You stood still, body exposed to the elements of his domain, The cursed energy in the air crackled faintly like static, raising goosebumps along your skin. You could feel wetness from fear and anticipation gathering between your thighs and you hated that he could probably smell it.

One of his lower hands rose, palm hovering just over your navel. “Fear makes the body honest,” he mused, “and your body is speaking loud and clear.”

His fingers didn’t graze your skin, they hovered an inch above, trailing slowly from your stomach to your pubic bone and down your inner thigh, never once making contact but dragging sensation along in his wake. It felt like your skin leaned toward him, desperate for pressure.

“Already trembling.” His set of upper eyes flicked up to meet yours. “What would you do if I truly touched you?”

“I—” You blinked. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

All four of his eyes narrowed at once. “Bold,” he said. “But you misunderstand.” Another hand moved, one of the upper ones, clawed and more adorned with dark rings of ink. This one gripped your jaw, not gently. “I don’t need your permission.”

He tilted your head and his thumb slid across your bottom lip before pressing in. “You came here offering your body,” he said, “but you didn’t come knowing what it means to be used.” His thumb pushed past your lips and you let him. He held it there on your tongue for a few seconds before withdrawing and letting your mouth close on its own. “Good,” he muttered. “You’re learning.”

Your breath was shaky and for a moment Sukuna silently watched you breathe the way a wolf would leer at a scared rabbit. Then he straightened, fingers catching the edge of his kimono. The fabric slid from his shoulders with infuriating ease, pooling at his feet like a discarded veil. Beneath it, his torso was fully revealed, inked muscle, scars carved by centuries of violence, the mouth on his stomach stretching wide as if pleased by the sight of you staring.

“You can look,” he said mildly amused. “I didn’t undress for modesty.”

Your eyes betrayed you, dragging over him despite your attempt to keep your gaze lowered. He was massive. Inhumanly so. Power sat in every line of him, coiled and waiting. Your curious eyes didn’t stop at his exposed upper body, as they drifted down to his hakama pants that were hanging low on his hips, unmistakably altered by two heavy bulges straining against the fabric. The sight punched the air from your lungs and heat rushed through you, sharp and disorienting.

Sukuna noticed instantly and he gave a soft, amused click of his tongue before lowering himself back onto the platform, sprawling with deliberate arrogance. One leg bent, the other extended, hakama creasing around the thickness you couldn’t stop staring at.

“Come,” he said, curling two fingers toward himself. “Crawl.”

The word sent a tremor through you and you moved without thinking, palms pressing to the cool stone as you crossed the space between you. Every sound felt loud. Your breath, the soft brush of skin against stone, the faint rustle of his clothes as he adjusted himself, utterly unashamed.

You stopped just short of his knees and he looked down at you like a king humoring a subject.

“Closer.”

You crawled until you were kneeling between his legs, the heat of him overwhelming now. His thighs framed you, massive and unyielding. One of his upper hands rested lazily behind him, the other draped over his knee. The lower pair hovered, ready, patient.

“Take them off,” he said, nodding toward his pants.

Your fingers froze. “I—” You swallowed. “I don’t… I’ve never—”

He arched his brow. “You’ve never undressed a man?” he asked, voice smooth with disbelief. “Not even the one they’re sending you to marry?”

Your cheeks burned. “No.”

A laugh rolled out of him, rich and cruel, echoing through his domain. “Oh, this just keeps getting better.”

One of his hands came down, gripping your chin and tilting your face up until all four of his eyes locked onto yours. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that makes you?” he asked softly. “Walking into a marriage without knowing how to touch a man. Without knowing what he expects when he pulls you into his bed.”

His thumb traced your lower lip, slow and taunting. “Men like that don’t teach,” he went on. “They take. And if they don’t like what they find…” His smile sharpened. “They look for other ways to entertain themselves. Sometimes that means war… Sometimes that means blood...”

Your chest tightened.

“Imagine it,” Sukuna continued, voice drifting between eras, ancient and modern tangled together. “Your future husband is frustrated. Insulted. Deciding your clan didn’t raise you properly... Deciding they need to be punished for it.”

Your breath stuttered.

“All because you didn’t know how to undo a simple knot.” He released your chin and leaned back again, spreading his legs wider. “Lucky for you,” he said lazily, “I find ignorance entertaining.” 

He looked down pointedly at his pants. “Well?” he prompted. “Figure it out. Or do you need me to hold your hand like a child?”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the waistband. The fabric was warm beneath your touch, heavy with what pressed against it. You hesitated, unsure where to start.

Sukuna didn’t help you or guide you. He just watched with his eyes sharp and mouth on his stomach curling in anticipation as you fumbled with the ties, your knuckles brushing him accidentally and making you gasp at the heat and solidity beneath the cloth.

“Careful,” he warned lightly. “You’ll make a mess of yourself before I do.”

Finally, the knot loosened and the hakama slid down his hips slowly, inch by torturous inch, revealing more than you were prepared for. The weight of him strained free, thick and heavy, resting against his thigh. The sight of him in all his glory caused your brain to short circuit as your eyes widened before you could stop them, gaze snapping back up and then down again as your mind struggled to make sense of what you were looking at. Two dicks. Both hard. Both unmistakably real. One resting heavy against his thigh, the other pressed close to his abdomen, just beneath the mouth carved into his stomach like some obscene crown.

Your throat worked but no sound came out.

A slow, delighted smile spread across Sukuna’s face, predatory and smug. “Ah,” he said softly, ancient amusement curling through the word. “There it is.” One of his brows lifted. “That look.”

You swallowed, heat rushing to your face, to your chest, to places you had never been touched before. “You— you have—”

“Two?” he finished for you, tone almost conversational. “Yes. I know. Shocking.”

The mouth on his stomach opened wider, teeth glinting as if it were smiling too. “Incase you forgot, I’m not human,” Sukuna continued, leaning back on his hands, utterly at ease in his nakedness. “Did you think the King of Curses would be built like the soft men down this mountain?”

Your gaze flicked helplessly between them, heart hammering. They were different. One thicker, heavier, pulsing slowly with power. The other slightly longer, pressed higher, close enough to the stomach mouth that its breath ghosted over the sensitive skin.

Sukuna shifted slightly, letting both of them move, letting you see the way they flexed, the way his body responded without shame or restraint. The cursed energy in the room thickened, curling around your skin like invisible fingers. “You don’t even know what to do with one,” he went on, voice dipping with arrogance. “And yet here you are, kneeling in front of two like an untrained whore.”

His lower hand reached out and caught your chin again, forcing your gaze back up to his face, to his four watching eyes. “This,” he said calmly, “is why men like your future husband would grow impatient with you.”

Your chest tightened as you forced yourself to not look away.

“Imagine his frustration,” Sukuna continued, taunting now. “A bride who doesn’t know how to undress him. Who doesn’t know how to touch. Who freezes when faced with something she doesn’t understand.”

His thumb traced your bottom lip. “Men like that don’t laugh it off,” he murmured. “They take it as an insult. As a failure. And when their pride is wounded…”

He shrugged lightly. “Villages burn.”

Your breath shook. “Stop.”

Sukuna’s smile sharpened. “No.”

He leaned forward again, looming, both dicks heavy and unashamed between his thighs. The mouth on his stomach exhaled warm air, tongue flicking once, tasting you. “You came here to prevent that,” he said. “It is your duty to make sure your ignorance doesn’t cost your people their lives.”

He released your chin and gestured downward with two fingers. “Touch me,” Sukuna said quietly. “Show me how much you care for them.”

Your hands hovered in the air, shaking, torn between fear and a pull you didn’t understand yet. Up until this point you had never seen a man naked before, never touched one, and never imagined anything like this. And now a god sat before you, monstrous and magnificent, waiting to see how you would break.

“Go on,” he urged, voice low and patient in the most dangerous way. “Your clan is counting on you.”

The room seemed to close in around you, breathing with him. And slowly, heart pounding, you lowered your trembling hand toward something no human had ever prepared you for.

Your fingers hovered for a heartbeat too long and heat flooded your face, but you forced your hand forward anyway. Your fingertips brushed him first by accident, a glancing touch that sent a jolt up your arm. He was hotter than you expected. Not just warm, but alive, pulsing beneath your skin like something that carried its own gravity. You sucked in a breath and wrapped your hand around him. His length was thick, heavy and far too much to fit comfortably in your palm. Your fingers barely met around the girth, and that alone made your pulse stutter. You had no rhythm, no knowledge, only instinct and nerves. Your grip tightened, then loosened, uncertain.

Sukuna hissed through his teeth. “Fuck,” he said, then caught himself, jaw tightening. The word annoyed him more than the sensation. He looked down at your hand with disappointment. “You don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“I’m trying,” you said, breathless, embarrassed.

“Trying isn’t impressive.” His voice sharpened. “I’ve slaughtered men who tried.”

Sukuna vocalized his alleged disgust, but his hips shifted, betraying him. One of his hands flexed against the silk covered stone, claws biting into it hard enough to crack the surface. The mouth on his stomach opened, tongue dragging over teeth in something dangerously close to satisfaction. He could smell you as your arousal clung to the air, curling around his senses like perfume. It made his lip curl in revulsion. He saw you as nothing more than a pathetic little human, soaking herself just from touching him… but for some reason his body liked that. 

That realization hit him like a slap. He had killed every other thing that crawled up this mountain. Priests. Warriors. Women who begged. Women who screamed. None of them lasted long enough to be interesting. He had never felt this tightening in his gut, this irritation at the idea of ending it too soon.

He hated this. Hated that your clumsy hand made his breath hitch. Hated that he didn’t want to rip you in half. “Tch.” He clicked his tongue sharply. “Get your hand off me before I embarrass myself.” Before you embarrass me.

He grabbed your wrist and tore your hand away, standing in one fluid motion. The sudden absence left him throbbing, both rods heavy and leaking faintly, and the sight of it only deepened his scowl.

“Worthless,” he snapped. “You’d have ruined me in seconds with that sloppy little grip.”

You stared up at him, chest rising fast. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” he said darkly. “That’s the problem.”

He moved before you could say anything else. One moment you were kneeling. The next, his hands were on you, rough and absolute, flipping you onto your back like you weighed nothing. Silk and stone met your spine, cool and unforgiving. You gasped as he loomed over you, vast and terrifying, four eyes burning down at your exposed body. He positioned himself between your thighs, spreading them with his knee, both of his dicks hanging heavy and close, far too close. The mouth on his stomach opened wide, breath washing over your skin.

For a split second, you genuinely thought he was going to shove both of them inside you just like that. No warning. No preparation. Just force. 

Your heart leapt into your throat and then you spoke without thinking. “You don’t need to be so rough,” you said, voice shaky but honest. “I’m not going anywhere...”

The words hit him harder than any insult ever had. Sukuna froze and his domain went silent. You spoke with a certainty that made him frown. You were beneath him, naked, vulnerable, and still you looked up at him like you trusted he wouldn’t kill you. Like you believed you were worthy of being in his presence.

Something ugly twisted in his chest and he snarled, baring his teeth. “Don’t talk like you belong here.” His voice cracked like a whip across the shrine. The words weren’t just angry. They were personal, bitter, and frantic. Like something in him hated that you had said that…  Like something in him believed it.

His upper hand grabbed your jaw roughly, tilting your face up as his cursed energy surged, thick and suffocating. It flooded the room like smoke mixed with rot and ruin, until the air became heavy enough to choke on.

And yet you didn’t scream or run. You looked up at him, wide-eyed and trembling… but still there. Still beneath him like you belonged there. 

His lips curled in disgust. “I should kill you,” he spat.

The mouth on his stomach lurched open beneath him, wide and wet, tongue lolling out like a beast tasting prey. Saliva dripped down over your stomach, warm and sticky, making you flinch.

“You’re a mistake,” he growled, more to himself than to you. “A weak, whining little mortal. I’ve slaughtered better than you without touching them.”

The shrine trembled. Stone groaned. Talismans fluttered violently outside the walls. The cursed pressure of Sukuna’s wrath pressed into your bones like a vice. Your lungs screamed for air. Your legs locked beneath the weight of him, spread open, exposed and helpless. His lower hand dragged up your thigh, claws digging just hard enough to leave red lines in your skin. The mouth on his stomach hovered above your sex now, dripping and twitching, tongue hanging with hunger.

“I’ll end you,” he whispered.

Then… that tongue moved. It dragged once up your slick slit, slow and intentional. The tip curled at the top, flicking your clit in a way that made your hips jerk violently and a loud, broken moan tear from your throat.

Sukuna froze once again and every muscle in his body went still. All four of his garnet eyes widened and he let out a low grunt. “…Fuck.”

His hips pulsed forward. His fists tightened and his mouth twisted in a snarl, not of anger but desire.

“You taste…” He laughed, but it sounded cracked and wild. “You taste… good.”

The mouth on his stomach groaned. The tongue moved again, faster now. Hungrier. It lapped at you, messily, like it wanted to drown in you. The heat of it made your thighs tremble and forced your chest to rise in ragged heaves. You were soaked already, but that tongue only made it worse by sliding through your folds, lapping up every drop like it was owed.

“Oh w-wait—Sukuna—!”

The moment your voice broke on his name, Sukuna’s upper hands grabbed your thighs and wrenched them farther apart, shoving you flat to the platform like you were something to be offered up. His cursed energy spiked again, but this time, it wasn’t filled with rage, it was filled with lust. 

“You like this,” he hissed, tongue dragging through your folds again, slower this time, deliberately tasting every inch. “You’re melting. So fucking sensitive already and I’ve barely started.”

Your body was arching before you realized it, chasing the pressure. Your hips rocked up instinctively, but his lower arms pinned you down with ease. His grip on your thighs left bruises. His tongue worked you open, teasing your sensitive button with maddening flicks before dipping into your entrance again, messier, greedier.

Your moans were loud now, echoing off the walls.

Sukuna lowered his head to analyze your face and grinned. “Listen to you,” he said, voice shaking with cruel satisfaction. “Little virgin crying just from my mouth.”

He devoured you like a curse made flesh. His tongue curled inside you, then withdrew to circle your clit in broad, heavy strokes. Then he would suck, letting the mouth’s teeth graze just barely against the delicate skin before dragging the flat of his tongue over it again. It was maddening.

Every movement sent sparks of euphoric pleasure up your spine. Your hands clawed at the silk beneath you and your thighs tried to close but he held you there, spread open like a sacrifice he refused to end.

“Sensitive little thing,” he growled. “Soaked from just this. What would you do if I split you on both my cocks? Scream? Beg? Pass out?”

He licked you again, from dripping hole to clit, then sucked hard. You screamed and your voice cracked before your body seized. 

Sukuna groaned in your ear guttural and filthy. Your taste coated his second tongue. Your scent burned in his lungs. It was driving him insane. He should’ve killed you. Should’ve ended this the moment you opened your mouth and dared to speak like you mattered.

But now? Now he wanted to ruin you. And he wasn’t going to stop until you shattered into a million little pieces.

The mouth on Sukuna’s stomach stayed latched to you, tongue working you with lewd intent, dragging through your slick folds, curling inside you just enough to make your hips buck helplessly. Every sound you made was answered by pressure. Every tremor earned another stroke.

And then his hands came into play. All four of them. One upper hand pinned your wrists above your head, claws biting into the stone on either side, trapping you flat on your back. The other upper hand pressed down on your sternum, not crushing, just enough to remind you of the weight difference. Of the power imbalance. Of how completely at his mercy you were.

The lower pair spread your thighs wider and held them there. He made sure you wouldn't be able to escape what he was giving to you. Your legs shook as the tongue flicked hard against your now overstimulated bundle of nerves, then immediately pulled away, denying you just as your body surged forward.

You cried out, breath shattering.

“Ah‑ah,” Sukuna said calmly, watching you with all four red eyes, pupils blown wide, feral and shining. “Not yet.”

The tongue flattened again, dragging from your entrance upward in one long, wet stroke that made your toes curl and your back arch against his hand.

“You’re going to learn patience,” he continued. “Even if it kills you.”

Your body betrayed you completely. Every nerve screamed. Your hips lifted instinctively, desperate to chase the sensation. Sukuna growled and pushed you back down with his palm, pinning you flat again.

“Stay. Still.”

The command cracked through you and you tried your hardest to obey but the tongue returned, relentless now, circling your clit with slow, maddening precision, alternating between broad strokes and sharp flicks that made your vision spot white.

Sukuna leaned forward slightly, eyes never leaving your face. “Look at you,” he said. “Shaking like a sacrificial lamb. And all I’m doing is tasting you.”

He edged you. Again. And again. And again… And again… 

Every time your breath hitched and your body tightened, every time that pressure coiled tight in your belly, he pulled back just enough to keep you right on the brink. Your moans turned broken, desperate, incoherent.

“Please—” you gasped. “Please—”

“Please what,” he snapped, tongue flattening against you again but refusing to give you enough. “Finish?”

Your head thrashed side to side. Tears burned the corners of your eyes. “I can’t—”

“Good,” he said. “I don’t want you to.”

He watched you with open fascination now, studying the way your chest heaved, the way your lips trembled, the way your body responded to every denial. His manhood throbbed painfully between his thighs, leaking steadily, but he didn’t touch them. 

“You know,” he said casually, tongue giving a slow, calculated lick that made you whimper, “I might just kill the man they’re planning to marry you to.”

The words cut through the haze. You inhaled a breath that was sharp enough to hurt.  “K‑kill him?” you questioned.

Sukuna laughed, and it wasn’t a sane sound. It scraped out of him, fractured and bright with pleasure, the laugh of something ancient that had long ago decided consequences were for lesser beings. “Why not?” he replied. His stomach mouth stretched wider, saliva stringing between sharp teeth as the tongue dragged again through your slickness, unhurried and indulgent. “He’s human. Fragile. Loud. He’d scream beautifully.”

Your body betrayed you with a violent shudder, Sukuna felt it and he tightened his hold on you.

“Oh?” he said softly, deranged delight lighting all four red eyes. “That thought did something to you.”

The tongue flattened against your clit, heavy and wet, pressing just enough to make you shiver on the edge of nirvana but never pushing you off the cliff. 

“Disgusting,” he added. “Thinking about a man dying while you’re spread open like this.”

He pulled his tongue back just as your body clenched and you cried out a desperate broken sound that sounded like music to his ears. 

Sukuna’s pupils blew wide. “Yes,” he hissed. “That noise. Do that again.”

The cursed energy around you thickened, pressing down on your chest, your lungs, feeding on your fear and need alike. It made every touch louder, sharper, too much. His presence filled your head until there was barely room for thought.

“I should tear you apart,” he went on, voice unraveling. “Crush your throat. Eat you and be done with it.” The mouth on his stomach playfully flicked against the sensitive skin between your folds and inner thighs. “But listen to you,” he continued, watching your face with obsessive focus. “You sound better alive.”

He leaned forward, his face hovering over yours while the stomach mouth stayed buried between your thighs. Four eyes locked onto yours, unblinking, feral. “Imagine it,” he said, voice laced with lust and venom. “Your precious future husband rides into your village thinking he owns you. And instead he meets me.”

The tongue pressed harder.

“You’d hear him beg,” Sukuna went on. “You’d see his blood soak into the dirt. And then I’d come back here and remind you who you really belong to.”

Your body finally betrayed you completely. The edge he had kept you balanced on snapped tight, nerves screaming, muscles trembling so hard it felt like your bones were rattling against each other. Heat coiled low in your belly, sharp and overwhelming, and your vision blurred until all you could see was red eyes and shadow.

He had finally broken you and this was only just the beginning..

“Please—” The word tore out of you, raw and desperate. “Please, Sukuna, I can’t— I can’t take it anymore.” Tears spilled freely now, hot and humiliating, sliding down the sides of your face and into your hair. Your chest jumped in uneven gasps as your body shook beneath his grip, overstimulated to the point of pain. Every nerve felt flayed open.

“Please,” you sobbed again. “Please… I need it. I need you to stop—or finish—just please—”

Sukuna stared at the tears like they were something precious and infuriating all at once. Like proof of his power. Like proof that he had gone too far and not far enough.

“…Pathetic,” he said hoarsely. But his hands loosened, just a fraction. The cursed pressure bearing down on you shifted, easing enough that you could draw a fuller breath. Sukuna inhaled sharply through his nose, scenting you again, jaw clenched so tight you heard his teeth grind.

“Tch,” he clicked, irritated. “Crying already. Humans really are built wrong.”

He spoke about his annoyance with you, yet he leaned down your body. His face hovered over your chest, then lower, shadow passing over your stomach, your hips. His breath was hot against your skin, his presence suffocating in a different way now. You felt his gaze on every inch of you as he descended, unhurried but purposeful.

“I should let you suffer,” he said, voice rough with conflict. “Let you drown in it. Teach you what begging really costs.”

His mouth brushed your skin and you gasped. He didn't kiss you, he bit you. Sharp teeth sank into the flesh just below your breast, hard enough to make you scream as pain bloomed bright and stinging. You felt the scrape, the puncture, the heat of blood welling instantly. He pulled back just enough to drag his tongue over the wound, tasting you.

“Mm,” he growled. “There you are.” He left another bite lower, then another, each one intentional. Not deep enough to maim. Deep enough to mark. His teeth grazed and sank, his tongue following after, lapping up blood and salt and fear as he went.

You writhed beneath him, every sting making your body jerk, every lick sending heat straight between your thighs.

“Sensitive everywhere,” Sukuna murmured against your skin. “No wonder your people were so eager to marry you away.”

Another bite at your stomach. Another sharp sting. You cried out, nails digging into the platform stone.

“Quiet,” he snapped, then laughed when you failed to obey.

He reached your hips and stopped. Your legs were still held wide by his hands, thighs trembling, juices dripping down onto the stone. You could feel how swollen and sensitive you were, every brush of air unbearable.

Sukuna exhaled slowly, like he was steadying himself. “I’m doing this because you begged,” he said darkly. “Not because you deserve it.”

Then his mouth descended and the first contact was devastating. His lips sealed over you, hot and firm, tongue sweeping through you in a broad, consuming motion that made your yelling shatter against the shrine walls. He wasn't careful or gentle, he devoured you like he meant it, mouth working you open, tongue plunging deep before dragging back up to circle your clit with brutal intent.

“Oh—oh S-S—!” you cried, back arching violently.

Sukuna groaned against you, the sound vibrating straight through your core. He ate you like he was starving, tongue relentless, mouth sucking hard enough to make you see stars. He alternated between long, punishing strokes and sharp, precise flicks that hit you exactly where you needed it.

“Look at you,” he growled against you, voice muffled and thick. “All that crying just to end up like this.”

His tongue curled tight around your clit and sucked. Your orgasm tore through you like lightning, sudden and blinding. Your legs shook uncontrollably as you cried his name, tears spilling freely as pleasure crashed over you in violent waves. You felt yourself clench hard around nothing, juices spilling, body trembling like it might come apart.

Sukuna didn’t pull away. He kept eating you through it, tongue flattening and dragging, mouth sucking greedily as he rode out every aftershock, forcing another cry from your throat, then another. Only when your body sagged, boneless and shaking, did he finally lift his head. Strings of saliva connected his mouth to you. Blood smeared his lips. His eyes were wild.

“Disgusting,” he breathed, staring down at you. “Crying and shaking like I just killed you.”

He straightened slowly, looming over your spent body, both dicks throbbing painfully between his thighs. They were leaking now. Thick, pearled drops slid down the length of each shaft, collecting and dripping to the silk beneath him. A small, glistening puddle formed where he sat and Sukuna clicked his tongue in irritation, jaw tight, chest rising with sharp breaths he clearly wasn’t used to needing.

“I really should kill you,” he scoffed, glancing down at himself like his own arousal was an insult. “Pathetic. Letting a human work me up like this.”

Your chest tightened.

“But I won’t.” His lips curled, cruel and satisfied. “Not yet.” His gaze dragged over your quivering body, lingering where your legs were still shaking from the aftershocks he had torn out of you. “This is the deal now,” Sukuna continued. “How well you take me decides whether your people get my protection.”

Your breath caught. “T‑take you…?”

Both of his dicks pulsed at the sound of your voice, another spill of precum hitting the silk beneath.

“Yes,” he replied, irritation sharpening his tone. “All of me.”

Your mind was still fogged with pleasure when fear punched through it again. “W‑what about him?” you blurted, panic overriding sense. “The man I’m supposed to marry. Will you… will you let him live?”

The room went cold and Sukuna stopped moving before letting out a deranged laugh. “No,” he said simply.

Your stomach dropped.

“I don’t share my toys,” he went on, eyes narrowing as he leaned down, one hand bracing beside your head. “And I sure as hell don’t leave loose ends that think they own what’s already mine.”

Your lips parted to speak, but no sound came out. Your thoughts spiraled instantly to your clan, retaliation, blame, bloodshed. If your future husband died, they would come looking for answers. For vengeance.

Sukuna felt the shift in you immediately. His hand snapped to your thigh, grip bruising. “Enough.” He leaned closer, voice sharp and annoyed. “You really want to talk about another man while I’m here leaking all over my own domain?”

Your body jolted.

“Focus,” he snapped. “If you satisfy me, your people are safe. That’s the only thing you need rattling around in that pretty little head right now.”

Before you could respond, a hand slid between your thighs. You gasped as one thick finger pressed inside you, stretching you open while you were still sensitive and swollen. 

“Too tight,” Sukuna growled. “No surprise there.” He worked the finger deliberately, curling it just enough to make your toes curl, then added a second. The stretch burned, overwhelming and intense, and your hands clawed at the silk beneath you as you tried to breathe through it.

“S‑Sukuna—!”

“Quiet,” he snapped, but his hips rocked involuntarily, his lengths brushing against you, smearing you with his oozing precum. “You’ll open up. You don’t get a choice.”

He pumped his fingers a few times, scissoring them just enough to make you gasp and shake, then pulled them out abruptly. The sudden emptiness made you shiver. Before you could recover, you felt the thick, blunt head of his lower length press against you. Your heart slammed against your ribs. It was massive and you weren’t sure how it would fit inside of you. The other dick slid up between your bodies, rubbing directly against your overstimulated clit, making you whimper helplessly.

“You’re going to take this one first,” Sukuna said, voice strained, irritated and hungry. “And you’re going to do it properly.”

The weight of him pressed heavy between your thighs and the presence of his cursed energy wrapped around your throat like a hand, forcing your body to respond even as your mind spiraled.

“Properly,” he growled again, voice darker now, strained and low like he was fighting himself. “That means no crying, no biting, no telling me to slow down.” His fingers dug into your hips, claws pricking your skin as he adjusted your body beneath him, shifting his weight forward. The mouth on his stomach was still slick with your taste, lips pulled back in something too close to a grin.

Sukuna lined himself up with your entrance and pressed just the tip inside.  Your body immediately resisted the intrusion, the head alone stretched you wider than you could ever imagine. You gasped sharp, shocked and loud. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but it was intense, raw, and made your legs twitch on either side of his waist.

He didn’t let you squirm. Both of his lower hands locked onto your thighs, forcing them wide and still, holding you open so he could watch your pussy try to swallow the first few inches of him. Your walls spasmed, clenching hard as if to force him out, but all it did was make him hiss through his teeth and push forward another inch.

“Look at this,” he said, one of his upper hands sliding to your face, forcing your chin down so you had no choice but to look where his dick was breaching you. “Barely inside and you’re already squeezing me like a vice.”

Your mouth fell open, a broken sob catching in your throat.

“I said no crying,” he snapped, though there was a flicker of pleasure dancing in his voice. His other upper hand slid up your stomach, fingers splayed over the curve of your belly like he was feeling himself force his way in from the outside. “That’s it,” he snarled, hips rolling forward another inch. “Take it.”

The stretch burned and you felt your body tear a little. Nothing deep, just enough to make your lungs tighten. He was too thick, and he was barely halfway in. Above you, his other length rubbed against your clit, dragging back and forth with each shallow thrust of the one forcing its way inside. The stimulation was maddening. Too much and not enough. The pain, the pleasure, the pressure… It was overwhelming.

“You’re tight,” he grunted. “Too tight for this cock… what the fuck are you going to do when I give you both?”

Your eyes rolled back.

“I’ll rip you apart,” he promised, voice reverent now. “And… you’ll love it.”

Your walls clenched again, involuntarily.

He closed one set of his eyes for a second and groaned. “Fuck. Don’t do that.”

Precum leaked from the second dick, smearing you with more heat, more slick, more proof of how much this monster of a god was enjoying destroying you inch by inch. You tried to speak, tried to say you couldn’t take it, but your voice died in your throat the moment his hips jerked forward and buried another inch inside you.

Your swollen pussy stretched around him, raw and trembling, trying to adjust. You felt so full already, your belly tight with the pressure of being opened in a way you never had before.

His upper hand tightened around your throat, just enough to ground you in the moment. “Pay attention,” he snarled. “You want to save your clan? Focus.”

Your hands gripped his forearms, nails biting into inked flesh, but he didn’t flinch. He was too far gone now, hips slowly, brutally grinding into you as he worked more of himself inside, every inch dragging against your walls like a punishment you were meant to endure.

“Look at this messy little hole,” he breathed, gaze locked on where he was splitting you open. “Greedy, isn’t it?”

You whimpered and fought against the burning instinct to close your eyes.

“Yeah... It likes being filled by a god.” He shoved the last few inches in with one harsh thrust, burying himself to the base. Your scream was muffled by the hand he clamped over your mouth. “You’re mine now,” he said, voice shaking with restraint. “No man will ever touch you again.”

Then, leaning closer, he placed his lips near your ear. His breath was hot and trembling with madness as he growled, “Because I’ll kill them all.”

Sukuna felt it before you did. The way your body started to falter beneath him. Your walls were fluttering uncontrollably around his rod, juices spilling down his thighs, breath coming in broken, uneven pulls that told him you were right on the edge again. Too close. Too sensitive. Another orgasm like the last and your body would give out on him, consciousness slipping away before he had even begun to enjoy himself properly.

“Tch,” he hissed, irritated. “Already trying to pass out on me.”

His hips stuttered once, then stopped entirely, muscles locking as he held himself buried deep inside you. The sudden stillness made you whine, your body clenching helplessly around him.

“No,” Sukuna said sharply. “You don’t get to disappear yet.”

One of his hands slid up your torso, fingers splayed over your stomach. He could feel himself there beneath your skin, thick and unforgiving, the outline of his dick obvious even through the tension of your muscles. Curiosity flared in his eyes as a devious smirk coated his face. “Let’s see something,” he murmured.

Before you could ask what he meant, you felt the sharp drag of his fingernail against your skin. A thin line traced slowly down your stomach, not deep, just enough to sting, just enough to split skin. You gasped, body jolting as a bright line of pain bloomed and warmth followed.Blood welled and Sukuna watched closely, eyes intent, fascinated by the way your body reacted. The scent of iron mixed with your arousal instantly, heady and intoxicating.

“Hah,” he breathed. “There it is.”

He lifted his hand and bit down on his own wrist without hesitation. Monstrous teeth sank into inked flesh, blood spilling freely as he pulled back. Dark, cursed, alive. He let a few droplets fall and they landed directly into the shallow cut on your stomach. The reaction was immediate as your body convulsed violently, a sharp cry ripping from your throat as heat exploded outward from the wound. It wasn’t painful. It was power. Something foreign and electric surged through your veins, racing along your spine, flooding your limbs with a strength that wasn’t yours.

Your muscles loosened. Your breath evened. And the ache between your thighs didn’t vanish, but it changed. The pain softened into something bearable. The stretch around him stopped burning and became something you could endure.

Sukuna sucked in a sharp breath. “…Shit.” He hadn’t meant for it to feel that good.

You gasped beneath him, eyes wide, pupils blown as the world sharpened instead of fading. “W‑what did you do…?”

“Relax,” he snapped, though his voice was rough now, strained. “Not enough to turn you into anything interesting. Just enough to keep you awake.”

His hand pressed flat against your stomach, right over the cut, right over where he filled you. He could feel you accepting him more easily now, walls yielding instead of fighting.

“Don’t get used to it,” he warned. “That was mercy. Again.”

Then his hips moved. The first thrust was slow but deep, dragging almost all the way out before slamming back in, forcing a moan from your lips. Your body jolted but didn’t break this time. The cursed warmth humming through you steadied your nerves and dulled the edge of overstimulation just enough to keep you present.

Sukuna groaned openly. “Fuck—there we go.”

He set a rhythm then, each thrust driving home how completely he filled you. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the shrine. “Look at you now,” he snarled. “Still shaking, but you’re taking it.”

Your nails dug into his arms as another thrust drove the air from your lungs.

“Say it,” he ordered. “Say you can handle me.”

“I—I can—” Your voice wavered but didn’t break. “I can take it.”

Sukuna laughed, feral and pleased. “Good.” He leaned down over you, mouth near your ear, cursed energy thrumming hot and heavy around you as he fucked you the way he wanted. He went harder, deeper, and his strokes were relentless.

His claws dug into your skin. One hand raked down your side, nails biting deep enough to sting, to leave crescent-shaped impressions that burned and throbbed. Another clawed at your hip, fingers bruising as he pulled you down harder onto him, using you like an altar for his pleasure.

“Fuck—” He gritted his teeth as your body clenched hard around him. “That’s it. Squeeze.”

He littered your neck in bite marks, teeth scraping, then sinking in. He groaned against you, breath hot and ragged now, losing that polished cruelty in favor of something more feral. “So loud,” he said between thrusts. “So messy. I knew you’d be like this. Crying and leaking the second someone actually uses you.”

His upper dick dragged insistently against your twitching clit, relentless friction with every punishing thrust. You were trembling, nerves screaming, that otherworldly warmth in your veins keeping you from slipping under even as pleasure stacked impossibly high.

“I’m gonna—” Your voice broke completely. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Sukuna snapped, then laughed when your body betrayed you. “You’re doing it right now.”

His claws tightened, nails digging deeper as he drove into you harder, faster, forcing your body to take every inch of him. Your back arched and a broken scream tore out of you as something inside finally snapped. Your body locked up and heat exploded outward, pleasure overwhelming, violent. You squirted hard, soaking him, the silk, and your thighs. Your juices spilled freely as your pussy clenched uncontrollably around him. 

Sukuna froze for half a second and then he groaned, deep and guttural, hips stuttering as your release drenched him. “Fuck-k—” His voice dropped, rough with disbelief. “You filthy little thing.”

He didn’t pull out or slow down, instead he fucked you through your orgasm, forcing you to ride through intense waves of overstimulation as your body shook and sobbed beneath him, tears streaming freely now as pleasure tipped into something too much.

“Look at you,” he said, voice twisted with both disgust and awe. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

Just as you started to come down from your pleasure high, Sukuna flipped you like you weighed nothing, dragging your trembling body onto your stomach. Your cheek pressed against the drenched silks as you panted, muscles twitching from exhaustion. You barely had time to adjust before you felt him behind you again, spreading your thighs, forcing your knees wider, and pushing back into your overstimulated core with no mercy.

You screamed into the stone beneath you. The sudden stretch burned and the friction made your hips jerk forward instinctively, but his grip on your waist was absolute. His slick coated dick speared you open again and stuffed you to the hilt in a single bruising thrust that left you breathless.

And then you felt more wetness. Not from you but from him as a slick, hot trail drooled down the seam of your ass.

Your eyes widened as the realization hit and you could feel the movement. A shiver traveled through your spine when you felt the mouth on his stomach roll open. His tongue lapped between your cheeks, dragging over the tight, untouched entrance it intended to claim. Its saliva coated your hole with surprisingly delicate care, until it was soaked and shiny.

“That’s better,” Sukuna rasped above you, voice thick with something ravenous. “Pretty little hole, never used. How generous of you to offer it to me.”

You hadn’t offered, but it didn’t matter. One of his upper arms anchored around your throat, yanking you up from the platform so your back arched into him. Another hand slid under your belly to hold your hips steady, and then you felt it… the head of his upper dick nudging your back entrance.

You cried out again, breath hitching, hands clawing at the scattered silk as he began to push inside. It was too much. The intrusion was slow but unrelenting, the pressure stretching a place no one had ever touched, not even your own fingers. You squirmed, whimpered, tried to say something… anything… but Sukuna’s grip on your throat tightened, cutting off your breath in warning.

“Shh,” he growled near your ear. “You’re mine. Every inch. Every fucking hole.”

He pushed deeper and the stretch was molten. Your body clenched instinctively, fighting him, but he didn’t stop. He groaned against your neck, amused and impressed at once. The resistance only fueled his desire and made him sink his teeth into your shoulder again, dragging blood to the surface as he forced more of himself inside.

“Relax,” he mocked, biting out a laugh. “You act like you weren’t made to be fucked like this. You should be thanking me.”

A needy gasp escaped your sore throat as you felt both lengths stuffed inside you now. One in your pussy, the other slowly bottoming out in your ass. Your mind shattered at the sheer fullness and the unnatural way your body was forced to accommodate him.

He started to move in a brutal and punishing rhythm that had your hips slamming against the stone beneath you, forcing your body to jerk forward with every thrust. Pain and pleasure tangled into something unholy, and still he didn’t let up. His claws scratched over your ribs, one hand yanking your hair back so your neck arched, exposing every vulnerable inch of your throat.

“I want to feel you break,” he snarled. “I want to see how much you can take before your body gives out.” And he meant it. Because Sukuna wasn’t trying to fuck you. He was trying to ruin you. And you were already halfway gone.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, mixing with sweat and saliva. Your core spasamed helplessly around him, overstimulated and raw, while your asshole clenched around the dick violating it, trying and failing to reject it. You heard yourself sob. A sound ripped from somewhere too deep, too human. 

Meanwhile Sukuna moaned in delight, loud and lewd, while his lengths twitched inside you as he felt your body quake beneath him. “Good girl,” he hissed. “Look at you. Crying on my cock like a proper little offering.”

You were nothing but noise now. Pleading, moaning, choking on sensation, clawing at the silk for a grip that didn’t exist. He was splitting you open in both places, dragging your body to the edge of something terrifying. One brutal thrust, then another, both of his lengths pumped into your body in a rhythm that caused you to drift away from reality. You were filled to the brim, and stuffed so tight your pussy squelched with every movement, the sound lewd and wet.

And you wanted it… Every inch.

“You’re dripping,” Sukuna laughed in your ear, voice demented. “You’re gushing around both of my cocks like a fucking temple whore.”

You didn’t get the chance to deny it. Your body betrayed you again as heat surged through your gut and your thighs spasmed uncontrollably. You closed your eyes with hopes you would be able to brace for the impact of this orgasm, but a gut-wretching scream ripped out of your throat as your body locked up and you came again, this time not just from pleasure, but from sheer, unholy surrender. Liquid sprayed from between your legs, coating everything beneath you, splashing across Sukuna’s lower stomach and thighs.

He roared and it wasn’t like a moan or even a growl. It was a sound carved from another world. Like it was a mixture of something demonic, monstrous and triumphant. “Look at that,” he snarled, never breaking rhythm. “Made another mess, didn’t you?”

Once again he didn’t show any sympathy to your overworked body as he fucked you through another round of contractions. You could barely stay upright and only his iron grip around your waist kept you from collapsing completely. At this point you were unsure what liquids were soaked beneath you. You didn't know if it was your juices, sweat, or the abundance of tears that fell from your eyes. Your mind was completely fractured at the edges. This was finally too much and you couldn't take anymore. 

Sukuna leaned over your back, burying his face in the curve of your neck. His breath was hot, his body coated in sweat and power. His four arms flexed around you, one around your throat, one under your belly, and two braced on the platform stone as he drove deeper, harder, on the verge of something catastrophic.

“You’ve earned it,” he rasped, the words fanning against your ear. “You want it, don’t you? My curse. My claim. All of me.”

You couldn’t speak, and you didn’t have to. He could feel that the small surge of energy he gave you earlier had finally run its course. He could feel it in your body. In the way you clenched, in the way you opened for him. In the way your tears tasted like surrender. A few more strokes and something in Sukuna finally snapped into alignment. His breath came harsh now, chest heaving as he drove into you one last time and then held himself there, buried deep, shaking with the effort it took not to lose control too soon. His claws flexed against the stone, carving shallow grooves as cursed energy rippled outward in hot waves.

“That’s it,” he growled, voice frayed at the edges. “Stay right there.”

He quickly shifted his grip, all four arms claiming you at once. One hand threaded into your hair and pulled your head back so your spine conformed to his chest. Another braced your hips, locking you in place. The others steadied him, anchoring his power as he fucked up into you like a storm about to break.

He pressed his forehead to the back of your neck, teeth grazing skin without biting this time. “You did what I asked,” he said, low and dangerous. “You took me. You endured. You didn’t run.”

His hips rolled once, drawing a broken sound from your throat. “That’s why I’m finishing,” he added. “You earned it.” The pressure inside him coiled tight, burning and relentless. His control thinned to a razor’s edge, pride warring with the need tearing through his body. He hated that a human had brought him here and he hated that he didn’t want to stop.

With a sharp exhale, Sukuna finally let go. Power surged through him, through you, through the shrine itself. He held you steady as his body went taut while a deep and animalistic sound rippled from his chest as the moment crashed over him. His grip tightened instinctively, possessive, as if anchoring himself to you kept the world from splitting apart. His cursed energy exploded outward, crackling against the walls like lightning made of flesh and will. The stones groaned beneath you both, the shrine itself quivering with the weight of Sukuna’s climax, as if even this sacred place had been marked by his ruin.

Thick warmth spilled inside you. Not once. Not in bursts. But in a sustained, punishing flood, one dick pulsing deep in your core while the other twitched inside your ass, stuffing you so full that the excess began to spill out around him, dripping between your thighs, down your legs, onto the platform. His chest rumbled against your back. Each breath from him was a struggle. Each second a fight to regain control.

And still… he didn’t let you go.

He stayed buried deep inside both holes, keeping your body pinned to him like a beast guarding his kill. But you weren’t dead. You were alive and twitching against him. Whimpering softly. Mind fogged and cunt clenching weakly as your body tried to comprehend what it had just endured. He repositioned you again as his four arms wrapped around you slowly. Two locked under your chest, and the other two gripped your thighs, forcing them wide so he could see the mess he poured into you. 

“You feel that?” he whispered against your neck, tongue lapping lazily at the bite marks he had left there. “All that filth spilling outta you. That’s mine.”

You nodded, or maybe you just trembled.

Sukuna chuckled low in his throat, smug and satisfied. He nuzzled the curve of your jaw with his nose like a cruel afterthought of affection, something that shouldn’t have felt as tender as it did. “Sacrifice accepted,” he murmured, lips brushing your skin. “But don’t think it ends here.”

You blinked, sluggish as one of his hands drifted lower, slipping between your legs and spreading the wetness with a greedy palm. His fingers brushed your overstimulated clit lightly testing your sensitivity and you jerked in his arms.

“Oh?” he laughed, dark and delighted. “Still twitching.”

His fingers stayed right there, light, cruel, taunting. Just barely grazing your clit with every word. You flinched with each touch, overworked nerves sending sparks straight to your spine. Your thighs tried to close out of instinct, but his grip on them only tightened.

“No,” he hissed. “Open.”

You obeyed, because you had no choice. Because your body was his now. Because somewhere between the first scream and the last orgasm, you had stopped pretending you could resist him.

Sukuna’s tongue flicked against the shell of your ear. “You’re too easy to break,” he said, almost disappointed. “But you’re so fucking pretty when you do.”

He pressed his hips forward again, slow and menacing, letting you feel his semi-hard manhood still buried deep inside you. You gasped, the stretch unbearable all over again, your pussy fluttering helplessly around him.

“I could fuck you all night,” he grunted, dragging his claws down your belly, just enough to sting. “Leave you leaking until this shrine forgets what it looked like without you spread wide like a sacrifice for me.”

You whimpered and he chuckled as his hand moved again. This time he stroked your clit in earnest. Fast, intentional, and deliciously wicked.

Your body jolted. “No, no, no,” you sobbed, the pleasure crashing in too soon, too violently.

“Yes,” he whispered, grinning into your neck. “Cum again. One more. You got one more in you, little offering.”

You shook your head, breath ragged, barely able to form a word, let alone a thought. But your body betrayed you. The moment that velvet-wrapped command slid into your ear, something deep inside you tightened and flared. The bond between your fear and your desire sparked again, white-hot and terrible. It pulled your nerves taut like strings on an instrument, trembling, waiting to snap.

Sukuna’s mouth curled against your shoulder, lips brushing over bruises and bite marks like they were trophies. “There it is,” he crooned, voice thick with victory. “You’re already on the edge. You want to break again for me? Even if it hurts… Especially if it hurts...”

You whimpered again, as your body was thrown back into that dangerous space between resistance and surrender. The pressure building inside you was unbearable, rising like the swell of a curse, like the blood rituals carved into the walls of his shrine. His hands didn’t ease. They tightened, carved into your waist and hip like stone clamps. His presence folded over you, all heat and power and something unholy, a god of war claiming what was promised to him by blood.

“One more, little offering. Let me see it. Let me feel it.” His voice was low and coaxing, but thick with strain. You could feel the edge in him, the tightening of every muscle as both of his dicks throbbed inside you again. 

Sukuna’s teeth dragged over your throat, and his cursed energy surged around you again. It pulsed through you, yanking your body back from the brink of collapse and holding you hostage in the pleasure he demanded. “That’s it,” he growled against your ear, walls fluttering around him. “Give it to me!”

Your vocal cords could no longer scream out as a silent moan left your mouth and your vision went white. Your body locked around him as your final climax hit you like a divine punishment. Your thighs trembled, muscles twitching uncontrollably as your release gushed down, soaking everything for a final time. Sukuna followed with a guttural roar, hips slamming into you one final time as he emptied himself deep in both holes filling you with hot, thick proof of your submission. His claws dug into your hips, holding you in place as his second orgasm crashed through him, hard and endless, pulled from the deepest part of him.

For a long moment he didn’t move. He just stayed there buried deep, chest rising and falling against your back, both of you shaking from the force of what had passed between you. The shrine quieted and the cursed energy settled like smoke after a blaze. And all you could do was gasp, twitching against him as your body struggled to hold what he had given.

A low, satisfied sound rumbled from his chest. “Well,” he said at last, voice rough but unmistakably pleased, “you took everything I gave you,” he continued, half praise, half insult. “Cried, shook, made a mess of my shrine… and still stayed conscious.”

He clicked his tongue, amused. “Pathetic little human body...”

His palm settled on your stomach and you stiffened. He pressed down slightly, feeling the way your muscles reacted, the faint rise and fall of your breathing beneath his hand. His thumb dragged in a small circle, possessive, testing.

“Look at you,” he said softly, cruel affection threading the words. “Stuffed full of a god and still trembling like you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

Heat rushed to your face, humiliation and something darker twisting together.

He laughed quietly. “Don’t get shy now. You offered yourself. I accepted.” His domain seemed to respond to his words, the oppressive air easing just a fraction, as if the bargain itself had settled into place.

“Your offering was sufficient,” Sukuna said, voice shifting into something serious and final. “I’ll keep my end of it.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I will protect your clan,” he went on. “No blade will touch them without my say. No war will reach their doors unless I allow it.” Then, sharper, mocking; “And anyone who thinks they can take what’s mine will learn very quickly how expensive that mistake is.” His hand tightened briefly on your stomach, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who you were bound to now.

He leaned closer, mouth near your ear. “You did well,” he said, almost reluctantly. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Then, with a low chuckle, “You’re still a weak little thing. Just… a useful one.” He finally shifted, easing his weight just enough for you to breathe easier, though he made no move to fully withdraw. He wanted you to feel him there. To remember.

Your body shivered beneath him. Somehow your body endured more than what should have been humanly possible, and yet, somewhere in the mess of blood, sweat, and seed, a soft, flickering warmth bloomed behind your ribs.

Gratitude. Not the kind you would've ever expected to feel for a being like him, but it was real.

Your lashes fluttered as your blurry gaze searched for his, and when you found it, four eyes watching you with something dangerously close to amusement, you let the truth spill in a whisper. “…Thank you.”

Sukuna blinked slowly, caught off-guard just long enough for his smirk to tilt unevenly. “Thank me?” he scoffed, but his voice lacked venom. “You’re alive because I let you live. You’re breathing because I wanted to feel you take my cock one last time before deciding if you were worth the effort.”

You nodded faintly, throat too dry to argue. “Still… you accepted it. My offering.”

Silence. 

Sukuna stared at you and something unreadable shifted behind those layered eyes. He reached down and dragged a blood-smeared thumb across your lower lip. “You really meant it,” he murmured. “All that crying. That shaking. That begging. It wasn’t just to save your clan.”

You swallowed hard. “…No.”

Sukuna tilted his head with newfound curiosity. “You enjoyed it?”

A beat passed and then you let out a soft shame-laced breath. “Yes.” 

A low, chest-deep growl of satisfaction rumbled from him. His thumb pressed into your mouth now, and you let him, obedient, dazed, grateful. “I should ruin you for that,” he growled. “Make you scream for days. But then you’d pass out. And I’m not done looking at what I made.”

You could still feel him inside, full and hot, the weight of his release thick and dripping, staining everything between your thighs.

He sat back slightly and glanced down, dragging his clawed fingers along the curve of your stomach again that was subtly swollen from how deeply he had filled you. “Tch. Filthy little vessel...” But when he leaned down again, his mouth brushed your temple with something almost reverent. Almost. “You’ll serve well,” he whispered.

And though your body was wrecked, your heart bloomed with quiet triumph. You had done what you came to do. He had accepted your sacrifice, and with it, your people would live. Your vision blurred again, but this time it wasn’t from pain. It was from peace… for now.

As your eyes began to flutter close from exhaustion, Sukuna’s voice followed you into the dark. “Sleep, little offering. You’ll need strength.” A cold hand curled protectively around your thigh. “Because next time, I won’t be as merciful.”

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Author's Note: Okie back to my other stories hehehe byeeeee!