侍の刀

“I am already judging you,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at the thing on the table. “You walked into my home carrying what looks like a cursed object people find in horror movies five minutes before everybody dies.”

That earned a loud snort from Brielle, who was curled up in your armchair with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders despite the apartment being warm enough to melt candles. She pointed at the board between laughs.

“No, seriously,” she said, still grinning. “When Lila pulled that thing out of her trunk, I thought she was joking.”

“She wasn’t,” said Marcus from the couch, where he was already leaning forward like this was the best entertainment he’d had all week.

“Unfortunately,” Brielle added, and that made Marcus laugh harder.

Lila rolled her eyes so dramatically it was honestly impressive. “You guys are so dramatic,” she said, folding her arms over the board like she was protecting it from your collective stupidity. “It’s just a game.”

“A game?” you repeated, setting the chips down and walking closer. The nearer you got, the less it looked like a game and the more it looked like something nobody should have been touching in the first place. The wood was dark enough to seem almost black under the living room lights, carved with symbols you didn’t recognize and looping patterns that seemed to twist in on themselves if you stared too long. There were no logos, no instructions printed on the surface, no company name stamped into the corner like some cheap novelty item. Nothing about it looked mass-produced. Nothing about it looked normal. “Lila, this thing looks like it came with a free exorcism.”

The room erupted into laughter again, but Lila clutched the board to her chest like she was personally offended. “You people have no imagination,” she said. “The woman at the antique store told me it was a spirit communication board.”

The three of you seemed to be waiting for someone in the room to explain why the words antique store and spirit communication board had just been used in the same sentence.

“The antique store?” you finally repeated, staring at her like she had completely lost her mind.

Lila nodded, looking absurdly proud of herself. “Yep.”

“The spirit communication board?” you repeated, because apparently your brain needed to hear the words twice before it could fully reject them.

Another proud nod.

You let out a long breath, dropped onto the couch, and pointed toward the front door without even looking away from her. “You know what? I think you should leave.”

“Oh, shut up,” Lila said, laughing like you were the unreasonable one here.

“No, seriously,” you said, leaning back and rubbing a hand over your face. “I invited everybody over to drink, eat junk food, and watch bad horror movies. At no point did I agree to summon whatever Victorian child ghost is trapped inside that thing.”

That only made the laughter louder, mostly because nobody in the room actually believed the board worked. That was the problem. If somebody had genuinely thought they were about to contact the dead, the conversation would have ended right there. Instead, everyone drifted closer with the exact energy people get when they are about to make a terrible decision purely because it sounds funny and they are too bored to stop themselves.

By the time you realized nobody intended to talk Lila out of it, she was already digging through the box. “Look at this,” she said, unfolding a yellowed sheet of paper that looked old enough to crumble if she breathed on it too hard. “It came with instructions.”

“Why does that sentence somehow make this worse?” you muttered.

“Because you’re a hater,” Lila said without looking up.

“Because you’re holding cursed parchment,” Brielle corrected from the armchair, still half-laughing but now with a little less confidence than before.

Even with the jokes still bouncing around the room, your attention drifted to the paper in Lila’s hands. The amusement started to thin out the longer everyone read over her shoulder. The instructions weren’t written like game rules, and they weren’t even written like somebody trying to be spooky for fun. They read like warnings from someone who had desperately wanted future idiots to take them seriously.

DO NOT BEGIN AFTER AFTER MIDNIGHT.

DO NOT PERFORM THE RITUAL ALONE.

DO NOT LEAVE THE RITUAL UNFINISHED.

DO NOT SUMMON WHAT YOU CANNOT DISMISS.

For the first time all night, nobody laughed immediately afterward.

It wasn’t exactly fear. It was more like the uncomfortable silence that settles in when everybody realizes something is a little stranger than they first thought. The kind of silence that makes the room feel smaller. It lasted only a few seconds before Brielle leaned back against the couch and shrugged, trying to shake it off.

“Honestly,” she said, forcing a grin, “that’s kind of cool.”

You turned to look at her. “That’s your takeaway?”

“What?” Brielle said, lifting one shoulder. “It’s got commitment.”

“Brielle,” you said flatly, gesturing at the paper, “it is literally threatening us.”

“Allegedly,” Marcus said from the couch, but even he didn’t sound as amused as he had a minute ago.

── დ ──

Lila should have let it go.

Honestly, you thought everybody should have let it go.

The warnings were weird enough to kill the mood, and for a few minutes it actually seemed like common sense might win. Brielle had gone back to scrolling on her phone, Marcus was halfway through demolishing the remaining pizza, and you had already started reaching for the TV remote when Lila suddenly sat upright on the floor like she'd just remembered something important.

“Oh, come on,” she complained, looking around the room with the kind of dramatic disappointment only Lila could pull off. “We can't stop now. We literally haven't even tried it yet.”

You immediately pointed at her from across the couch. “Yes, we can. In fact, I think stopping is the smartest thing we've done all night.”

“No,” she said, dragging the word out while already pulling the board closer. “You don't get it. If we don't at least try it once, I'm going to spend the rest of my life wondering if it would've worked.”

"That's the sacrifice I'm willing to make." You stared at her for a second, genuinely waiting for her to laugh and admit she was joking. When she didn't, your expression flattened immediately.

Brielle burst out laughing so hard she nearly dropped her phone. Marcus wasn't helping either, grinning into his soda while watching the argument unfold like he'd bought tickets for it.

Lila groaned dramatically and threw both hands into the air. “You are such a buzzkill.”

“You brought a haunted board into my apartment,” you said flatly, watching her adjust the candles with way too much enthusiasm for someone who claimed this was “just a game.”

“It isn’t haunted,” she shot back without even looking up.

“That is not helping your argument,” you muttered, and Brielle immediately snorted from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, already too entertained by your misery to pretend otherwise. Marcus, on the other hand, looked like he was trying not to laugh while Lila finally sat back on her heels, arms folded like she was personally offended by everyone’s skepticism.

The room dissolved into another round of laughter, but unfortunately for you, the majority had already chosen a side. Brielle slid off the armchair first and dropped onto the floor beside Lila, curiosity winning over common sense faster than expected. Marcus followed immediately afterward, looking far too entertained by the possibility of making terrible decisions.

“Honestly,” Brielle admitted, crossing her legs beneath her, “if we're already here, we might as well try it.”

“Thank you,” Lila said, pointing at her triumphantly.

“You're all idiots,” you informed them.

“Probably,” Marcus agreed.

“But you're joining us anyway.” Lila said, with a smug smile on her face that you just wanna wipe off.

You opened your mouth to argue.

Then sighed so deeply your soul practically left your body.

“Fine,” you muttered while standing from the couch. “But if any demonic shit pops out of this board, I'm beating every single one of your asses before I die.”

That earned enough laughter to shake the room.

“Deal,” Brielle said immediately.

“Fair,” Marcus agreed.

“See?” Lila grinned while scooting over to make room for you. “Now we're having fun.”

Within minutes the living room looked completely different. The overhead lights had been switched off, leaving only the soft glow of several candles arranged around the board. Shadows stretched across the walls in long flickering shapes that shifted every time a flame moved. Under normal circumstances it would've been a genuinely creepy atmosphere, but it was difficult to take any of it seriously when Marcus kept stealing chips from the snack bowl every thirty seconds.

Lila unfolded the instructions again, smoothing the old paper across her knee while everybody leaned closer.

“What exactly are we doing?” you asked, squinting at the board. “Because nobody has actually explained that part.”

“I did research,” Lila announced proudly, like that was supposed to reassure anyone.

The room collectively reacted the exact same way—low groans, scattered laughs, the kind of immediate disbelief that didn’t even need explanation. Brielle leaned back on her hands and sighed like she’d already accepted this was going to go badly, muttering that “that’s never a good sentence” while Marcus shook his head like he couldn’t believe he’d been dragged into it.

Ignoring her completely, Lila continued. “I found an old website talking about this exact board. Apparently it's supposed to be kind of like an off-brand Ouija board.”

“Off-brand?” you repeated again, staring at the board like it might suddenly explain itself.

“Yeah,” Lila said, way too casually.

You exhaled through your nose, rubbing your temple as you stepped closer. “How do you even have an off-brand version of talking to dead people?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a grin that only made it worse, “ask the dead people.”

That earned an awkward pause from everyone, not fear exactly, just that weird beat where nobody knows if they’re supposed to laugh or admit that sounded slightly more unsettling than intended. It passed quickly, though, because Brielle immediately broke it with a laugh and Marcus followed right after, like the moment couldn’t be serious for longer than a few seconds without somebody ruining it.

Lila rolled her eyes before continuing. “Anyway, according to the website, you're supposed to follow the instructions exactly. You ask questions, keep your hands on the pointer, and if there's a spirit nearby it'll answer.”

The room fell quiet after that.

Everybody placed their fingers where the instructions said, Lila cleared her throat and began reading the instructions, The first attempt lasted nearly two minutes.

Nothing happened.

The candles flickered occasionally, but candles always flickered. The board never moved. No voices appeared. No ghostly messages materialized from beyond the grave. Eventually everyone started looking at each other with expressions that practically screamed, Seriously? That's it?

“Maybe we did it wrong,” Lila insisted anyway, already refusing to let the idea die.

You glanced at her like she was insane. “You think?”

Somehow, against all better judgment, everyone ended up sitting on the floor in a loose circle, candles lit, the board between them like the center of something that absolutely should not have been happening in your living room.

Lila kept reading instructions out loud, careful and annoyingly confident, while the rest of you followed along just to prove it wouldn’t work, fingers resting on the little pointer as if that alone made it less stupid.

The first attempt dragged on longer than anyone expected, not because anything was happening, but because everyone kept waiting for something to justify the effort. Nothing did. The candles flickered normally, the room stayed normal, and after a while even the energy in the circle started collapsing into boredom.

“So we’re just doing this again?” Marcus eventually asked, breaking the silence with a yawn he didn’t even bother hiding.

“We might be doing it wrong,” Lila repeated for what felt like the fifth time.

“You’ve said that four times,” Brielle replied lazily.

“Because we almost did it right,” Lila insisted.

And just like that, it turned into repetition instead of ritual, the kind of cycle where belief slowly gets replaced with annoyance, and even Lila’s excitement started sounding more tired than convinced. They tried again anyway, because nobody wanted to be the one who admitted it was pointless first, but the second attempt felt even more like nothing than the first, like the room itself was refusing to cooperate out of sheer indifference.

Still nothing. No movement. No response.

Just candles burning down and time slipping further than anyone intended to stay awake.

By the time Lila leaned back with a frustrated sigh, even she sounded less certain than before, and Brielle had already started checking her phone again like reality was calling her back. Marcus stretched out on the floor like he’d given up entirely, and you finally leaned back with a tired breath, breaking the circle without even meaning to.

“You’ve said that four times,” Brielle reminded again.

“Because we almost did,” Lila repeated, but it didn’t sound the same anymore.

You let out a quiet laugh under your breath, shaking your head as you pushed yourself up from the floor. “No, you didn’t,” you said simply, and this time nobody even argued back.

You let out a quiet laugh under your breath, shaking your head as you pushed yourself up from the floor. “No, you didn’t,” you said simply, and this time nobody even argued back.

And that was the moment it stopped feeling like a ritual at all and went right back to just being four friends sitting in a living room at an ungodly hour, tired, bored, and completely unaware of how close they were to something they absolutely should not have been messing with in the first place.

After what feels like an hour of nothing happening, the mood has completely collapsed into boredom. The candles are still burning, the board is still sitting there, but whatever excitement Lila had been feeding off at the beginning has already drained out of the room, leaving nothing but tired laughter and the shared realization that this was just a dumb idea dressed up as something spooky.

“Okay,” Brielle finally says, breaking the silence while stretching her arms above her head, “this is officially boring.”

Marcus lets out a small laugh like he agrees but doesn’t want to say it out loud. Lila tries one last time to focus on the board, muttering something under her breath like it might suddenly respond out of guilt, but even she sounds less convinced now, her fingers loosening from the pointer like she’s already halfway done with it emotionally.

“Maybe we should just call it,” you say after a moment, leaning back slightly and glancing around the circle. “Nothing’s happening, and I’m pretty sure if something was gonna happen, it would’ve done it by now.”

That finally does it.

There’s a small wave of agreement, not dramatic, just quiet acceptance, like everyone has been waiting for someone else to say it first. One by one, hands leave the board, candles are carefully blown out, and the living room slowly returns to normal lighting, the illusion of whatever they were trying to do dissolving instantly under the brightness of reality.

Goodbyes happen in pieces after that, scattered across the doorway and hallway as shoes get put on and jackets get grabbed. Lila is the last one to leave, still insisting that “something definitely almost happened,” while Brielle laughs and tells her she needs sleep. Marcus waves casually before disappearing down the hallway, and for a moment it feels like the night is just ending the way it’s supposed to.

Then the door finally shuts, Silence hits differently when it's sudden like that.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and glance around your apartment, now too quiet, too still. That’s when you notice it—the board is still on the floor, forgotten in the rush to leave. You frown slightly and bend down to pick it up, expecting it to feel like nothing, just wood and cheap curiosity.

But the second your fingers touch it, something shifts.

A strange heaviness sinks into your body all at once, like your balance gets pulled out from under you without warning. You blink, trying to shake it off, but your vision stutters slightly, edges of the room blurring like your brain is lagging behind reality. The board slips in your grip as your legs suddenly feel less steady, like they’re no longer fully answering you.

“What the Fu-?” you whisper, but your voice feels distant even to yourself.

You force yourself to look up, expecting nothing, expecting just dizziness or exhaustion, but instead your eyes catch something that makes your stomach drop for reasons you can’t immediately process.

There’s someone sitting on your couch.

A man.

Sprawled back like he belongs there, legs spread loosely, posture relaxed in a way that feels almost mocking in how casual it is. Your brain tries to make sense of it through the blur, tries to tell you it’s just your friends messing with you, that someone came back, that you’re just tired and imagining things.

But then your vision clears for half a second.

Four arms.

Resting like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath catches in your throat so sharply it hurts.

The man tilts his head slightly, like he notices you noticing him, and his voice reaches you like it’s coming from underwater—low, calm, and far too steady for how wrong everything suddenly feels.

“You’re slower than I expected, woman."

You try to respond, but your mouth doesn’t cooperate. The room feels like it’s closing in, your heartbeat loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Somewhere in the distance, you think you hear his voice again, maybe saying something else, maybe not, but it doesn’t fully register because your body has already decided it’s done holding itself up.

Your knees give out.

The last thing you see before everything goes dark is him still sitting there, completely unbothered, watching you like he’s been waiting.

Then nothing.

── დ ──

You wake up like your body is returning from somewhere it wasn’t supposed to go, dragging itself back into awareness piece by piece, slow and disoriented, like your mind is trying to remember how to exist inside your own skin again.

For a moment everything is blurry and distant, the ceiling above you too bright, too normal, like nothing about the last few hours makes sense anymore.

Your throat feels dry when you sit up, your head is heavy, And your first instinct is that it was just a dream.

That’s what you try to tell yourself until you turn your head.

He’s still there.

Sitting exactly where he was before.

Because he doesn’t look like anything your brain can comfortably label as human anymore.

Ryomen Sukuna sits on your couch like he owns the space itself, like the concept of permission doesn’t apply to him in any universe. His posture is relaxed, almost lazy, one arm draped over the backrest while the other rests casually against his knee, but there’s nothing soft about the way he occupies the room. It feels controlled, deliberate, like even stillness is something he chooses rather than something he falls into.

His skin is marked—ink-like patterns carved across his face and body, unnatural and ancient, like something written into flesh instead of drawn on it. And then there are his eyes.

Four of them.

Not wandering, Not curious,Focused, On you.

The air feels heavier the longer you meet his gaze, like the room itself is reacting to him, shrinking around the pressure he carries without even trying. You become painfully aware of how small everything feels in comparison—your apartment, your body, even your thoughts.

Then it clicks.

This isn’t some random man who broke into your house: This is Ryomen Sukuna.

The King of Curses.

The realization lands in your chest like something cold and irreversible, because suddenly every strange thing from before makes too much sense in the worst way possible. The board game. The silence. The dizziness. The way reality felt like it tilted the second he appeared.

Your friends didn’t summon a ghost.

They didn’t summon a spirit.

They pulled something else entirely into your home, something that should have never been close enough to breathe the same air as you.

Sukuna shifts slightly, tilting his head as if he can hear the exact moment your understanding locks into place. One of his fingers taps lightly against his knee, slow and absentminded, like he has all the time in the world and you are not part of anything urgent.

“You’re finally awake,” he says, voice calm in a way that doesn’t match anything about him. Not kind. Not angry. Just certain.

Your body reacts before your thoughts fully catch up, tension crawling up your spine as you push yourself further back instinctively, even though there’s nowhere in the room that feels far enough away.

Your mind is racing now, trying to make sense of how your living room became something that feels like a threshold you accidentally crossed into something else entirely.

Because the problem isn’t that he’s here.

The problem is that he’s comfortable here.

And worse than that- You don't know what he wants.

But you have the sinking feeling that once you do, nothing about your life is going to go back to normal again.

── დ ──

You stood frozen in the middle of your living room, heart hammering so hard you felt it in your throat. The man—no, the thing—on your couch was massive, easily eight feet tall if he stood, with four arms, two faces, and tattoos crawling across every inch of his skin like living ink. His lower set of arms rested on his spread thighs while the upper pair crossed over his broad chest. Four crimson eyes pinned you in place, and a slow, wicked smirk tugged at the mouth on his stomach as well as the one on his face.

Your heart slammed against your ribs. Fear clawed up your throat, but heat pooled low in your belly at the same time, an unwanted spark that made your thighs press together. He was massive, every inch of him radiating raw power, and the sight of those extra limbs and the sheer size of him short-circuited something in your brain. The words slipped out before you could stop them. "Holy shit... you're hot. I was expecting Casper the friendly ghost or something stupid like that."

Sukuna's mouth curved into a slow, mocking smirk, one of his lower hands lifting to scratch thoughtfully at his jaw. "Not frightened? How disappointing. Most mortals piss themselves when they see me. But look at you, little one—staring like I'm some prize to be won." His voice rumbled low, laced with that ancient arrogance, and he noticed the way your eyes lingered on the hard lines of his chest and the prominent bulge already straining against whatever dark fabric covered his hips. "You admit it then. You're scared... yet your cunt is already wet for me. I can smell it from here."

He rose to his full height in one fluid motion, towering over you like a predator sizing up prey. All four arms moved with purpose as he stepped closer, the floorboards creaking under his weight. You stayed frozen on the floor, breath coming short, that mix of terror and arousal twisting tighter inside you. Sukuna tilted his head, two of his hands reaching down to grip your chin and tilt your face up toward him. "How did you summon me, girl? That pathetic wooden toy your friend Lila found at some forgotten antique store?"

You opened your mouth to explain, voice shaking as you started to recount the circle and the candles, but he cut you off with a bored wave of one hand. "Enough. Boring details." His nostrils flared suddenly, and a low growl vibrated from his chest. The scent hit him hard—your arousal, thick and sweet, flooding the air and taking over his thoughts like the finest offering.

His eyes darkened further, pupils blown wide as he inhaled deeper, the bulge in his pants twitching visibly. "Fuck. You're dripping already, virgin cunt aching for something it can't handle."

Sukuna's upper right hand scratched lightly under your chin, claws grazing skin just enough to make you shiver. The touch was mocking, almost playful, but the heat in his gaze burned hotter than any flame from the candles. "Look at you, trembling like a leaf but your body betrays you. I can hear your heart racing. Tell me, little mortal—do you want the King of Curses to ruin that untouched pussy of yours?"

His voice dropped lower, thick with lust, and you could see the way his two cocks strained against the fabric now, both thick and heavy, promising more than any human could give. He leaned in closer, breath hot against your ear as one of his lower hands trailed down your side, fingers brushing the hem of your shirt. "I'm more turned on than you could ever be. That fear in your eyes only makes my cocks throb harder."

The air grew heavier with each passing second, his presence pressing down on you like a physical force. Sukuna's smirk widened as he watched the conflict play across your face—scared out of your mind yet undeniably drawn to the monster looming above. One clawed finger hooked under your chin again, forcing your gaze to stay locked on his. "Speak, girl. Or shall I make the decision for you?"

Your throat worked around a dry swallow, voice cracking as the words tumbled out in a shaky rush. "I... I don't know what to say. You're terrifying, but fuck, you're so hot it hurts to look at you. I was expecting some lame Casper knockoff, not... this." Your eyes darted over the four arms, the extra set of eyes blinking lazily on his face, the way his massive frame blocked out the candlelight behind him. Heat flooded your cheeks even as fear twisted your gut, your virgin pussy clenching around nothing while slick gathered between your thighs.

Sukuna chuckled, the sound low and rough like gravel under boots. "Pathetic little mortal. Admitting it so easily. Most would be screaming by now, but here you are, cunt dripping like a bitch in heat for the King of Curses." He leaned down, two of his lower hands gripping your shoulders to haul you up from the floor without effort. Your feet barely touched the ground as he pressed you back against the nearest wall, his upper arms caging you in while the lower pair roamed. One hand slid under your shirt, claws scraping lightly over your stomach, making you gasp. The other traced the edge of your jeans, fingers pressing just enough to feel the damp heat radiating from your core.

"You summoned me with that worthless board your friend Lila dragged from some rotting antique shop," he continued, voice dripping with mockery as his crimson eyes bored into yours. "And now you're mine to play with. That fear in your pretty eyes only makes my cocks harder. I can smell how untouched you are—sweet, virgin pussy begging to be split open."

His breath fanned hot across your neck as he dipped his head, tongue flicking out to drag a slow, wet stripe along your pulse point. You whimpered, body arching despite the terror, thighs squeezing together in a futile attempt to ease the ache building there.

Sukuna's smirk turned predatory. One hand cupped your jaw firmly, tilting your head back while another lower hand yanked your shirt up and over your head in one rough motion. Your bra followed, discarded somewhere in the dark room. His gaze raked over your exposed breasts, nipples pebbling under the cool air and his intense stare.

"Look at these tits. Perfect for my hands." Two palms covered them at once, squeezing and kneading with possessive force, thumbs circling your nipples until they stiffened into tight peaks. You moaned softly, the sound mixing fear and need, and he laughed again—dark, amused. "Already making those sweet noises for me. I haven't even touched that dripping cunt yet."

He dropped to his knees with surprising grace for his size, all four arms working in tandem. Two hands hooked into your jeans and panties, ripping them down your legs in one swift tug that left you bare and trembling before him. The scent of your arousal hit him full force, and Sukuna groaned, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. "Fuck, that smell. Delicious. Your body knows what it wants even if your mind is screaming to run." His lower hands spread your thighs wide, claws pricking just enough to hold you in place without breaking skin. The upper pair braced against the wall on either side of your hips.

Without warning, his mouth descended. His tongue—long, thick, and impossibly hot—parted your folds and licked a broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You cried out, hands flying to his hair on instinct, fingers tangling in the short strands as pleasure shot through you like lightning. Sukuna growled against your pussy, the vibration making your knees buckle. He licked again, slower this time, savoring every drop of your slick before focusing on your swollen clit. His tongue circled it, flicked it, then sucked the sensitive nub between his lips with obscene wet sounds filling the room.

"Tastes like fucking heaven," he muttered, voice muffled against your flesh. One of his lower hands slid up your inner thigh, two thick fingers pressing at your virgin entrance without pushing in yet. He teased the rim, circling it while his tongue worked your clit relentlessly. Your hips jerked forward, chasing the sensation even as panic flickered in your chest. This was Sukuna—the monster from legends—eating you out like he owned every inch of you. And god, it felt incredible.

He pulled back just enough to smirk up at you, lips shiny with your juices. "You're shaking like a leaf, but your cunt is gushing for me. Virgin hole clenching around my fingers already. Say it, girl. Tell your King how badly you want these cocks inside you." His tongue darted out again, lapping at your entrance teasingly before diving back in, thrusting shallowly as one finger finally breached you. The stretch burned slightly, but pleasure quickly overrode it as he curled the digit, searching for that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.

You babbled incoherently, hips rolling against his face as he added a second finger, scissoring them gently to open you up. His tongue never stopped—lapping, sucking, swirling around your clit until your thighs quivered and a coil of heat tightened low in your belly. Sukuna's free hands roamed your body, one pinching a nipple while the other gripped your ass, pulling you harder against his mouth. "That's it. Ride my tongue like the desperate little slut you are. I'm going to stretch this tight pussy with both my cocks until you can't walk straight."

His fingers pumping and his tongue flicking drove you higher, your first orgasm crashing over you without warning. Your walls fluttered around his fingers, slick flooding his mouth as you moaned his name brokenly. Sukuna drank it down greedily, growling in approval as he licked you through the aftershocks, prolonging the pleasure until you were a trembling mess against the wall.

He rose to his full height again, towering over you with that same mocking grin. His pants had vanished at some point, revealing both thick cocks—long, veined, and already leaking precum from the tips. One sat above the other, both massive and intimidating. "On your knees now, little one. Show me how grateful you are for the honor of summoning the King of Curses."

Your legs felt like jelly as you slid down the wall, knees hitting the floor with a soft thud. Sukuna's lower hands guided your head forward while his upper pair rested on his hips, watching with that arrogant, hungry expression. The heads of both cocks bobbed inches from your face, the musky scent of him mixing with the faint trace of candle wax in the air. "Open wide," he ordered, voice thick with command. "Let's see if that pretty mouth can handle even one before I ruin that virgin cunt."

You parted your lips, tongue darting out to lick the bead of precum from the lower cock first. The taste was sharp, salty, and it made your head spin. Sukuna hissed through his teeth as you wrapped your lips around the tip, sucking gently while your hand reached up to stroke the upper shaft. His fingers tightened in your hair, not pushing yet, but holding you steady. "That's it, girl. Use that tongue. Swirl it around like you're starving for it." He rocked his hips forward slightly, feeding more of the thick length into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged softly, eyes watering, but the sound only made him chuckle darkly.

"Look at you, choking on the King of Curses already. Pathetic and perfect." One of his free hands reached down to pinch your nipple again, rolling it between clawed fingers as you bobbed your head, spit dripping down your chin. The other cock twitched against your cheek, smearing precum across your skin. You pulled off with a wet pop to catch your breath, then switched, taking the upper one between your lips while your hand pumped the lower. Sukuna's groans grew louder, his hips starting to thrust in shallow movements that tested your limits.

"Fuck, that mouth feels good. Keep going, little summoner. I'm going to paint your throat white before I bend you over and claim that tight hole." His voice was a low growl, laced with possession as he watched you work both cocks with increasing confidence.

Saliva coated your lips and dripped onto your bare breasts, the room filled with the wet sounds of your sucking and his heavy breathing. The fear from earlier had melted into something hotter, something that made your pussy throb with need as you took him deeper, determined to please the monster you'd called forth.

The wet, obscene sounds of your mouth working over Sukuna's thick cocks filled the candlelit room, each slurp and gag echoing off the walls as you pushed yourself deeper. Spit ran in thick rivulets down your chin, dripping onto your bare breasts and leaving shiny trails across your skin. Your jaw ached from the stretch, but the heat pooling between your legs only grew stronger with every thrust of his hips.

"That's it, little summoner," Sukuna growled, his lower hands tightening in your hair while his upper pair gripped your shoulders to steady you. "Suck harder. Show your King how desperate that virgin cunt is for what's coming next." His voice dripped with arrogance, crimson eyes half-lidded as he watched your lips stretch around the lower shaft. Precum coated your tongue, salty and thick, and you swallowed around him, earning a low hiss from the monster above you.

You switched between the two cocks, stroking the one not in your mouth with slick fingers, twisting your wrist just the way his groans encouraged. Your knees burned against the hardwood floor, but you barely noticed. All that mattered was the way his massive frame loomed over you, the way his claws scraped lightly against your scalp in approval, the way his cocks twitched and throbbed under your tongue. Fear still lingered at the edges of your mind, but it twisted into something darker, hotter, feeding the ache in your core.

Sukuna's hips rocked forward in shallow thrusts, feeding more of his length down your throat until your nose brushed the coarse hair at his base. You gagged, eyes watering, but he only chuckled darkly. "Look at you choking on the King of Curses. Pathetic little mortal, drooling all over yourself like a bitch in heat. That tight throat feels fucking divine." One of his lower hands slid down to pinch your nipple, rolling the stiff peak between clawed fingers until you moaned around his cock, the vibration making his thighs tense.

"Keep going," he ordered, voice rough with command. "I'm going to flood that pretty mouth before I ruin that untouched pussy. You're going to swallow every drop, understand?" His upper hands braced against the wall behind you as he started fucking your face in earnest, both cocks sliding in and out of your stretched lips in alternating rhythm. Saliva bubbled at the corners of your mouth, strings of it connecting your chin to his heavy balls as they slapped against you with each thrust.

Sukuna's breathing grew ragged, his growls turning into low, filthy praise. "Fuck, that mouth... so eager. You're going to be my favorite little toy, aren't you? Gonna keep you on your knees whenever I want, fill every hole until you're ruined for anyone else." His claws tightened in your hair, holding you still as his hips snapped forward one last time.

Both cocks pulsed hard, and then he was coming—thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your throat and spilling over your tongue. You swallowed desperately, but there was too much; it leaked from the corners of your mouth, mixing with your spit and dripping down your chest in messy white streaks.

He pulled back slowly, both shafts glistening with saliva and cum as they slipped from your lips. You gasped for air, chest heaving, cum and spit trailing down your chin. Sukuna smirked down at you, one hand tilting your face up so he could admire the mess. "Good girl. Look at you, painted like the desperate slut you are."

Your thoughts raced even as your body burned with need. How the hell were you supposed to get out of this? Summoning him had been a stupid dare, and now he was staring at you like he planned to keep you forever. But your pussy throbbed, empty and aching, and when he hauled you up with two of his arms, pressing you face-first against the wall, all you could do was moan and push back against him.

"Time to claim that virgin hole," Sukuna rumbled, lining both cocks up against your dripping entrance.

── დ ──

Sukuna's massive frame pinned you harder against the wall, two of his lower arms gripping your hips while the upper pair braced beside your head. The blunt heads of both cocks pressed insistently at your soaked entrance, stretching your folds without pushing inside yet. Your legs trembled, slick dripping down your thighs in anticipation and nerves.

"Brace yourself, little summoner. This is going to hurt so good." he rumbled again, voice thick with dark amusement.

He thrust forward without warning. The first cock breached you in one brutal shove, the second sliding alongside it a heartbeat later, forcing your walls to stretch impossibly wide around both thick shafts. A broken cry tore from your throat as the burn hit, your body struggling to accommodate the sheer size. Sukuna groaned low, hips snapping until he was buried to the hilt in your untouched cunt.

"Fuck—tight little virgin pussy," he snarled, claws digging into your flesh. "Squeezing both my cocks like you were made for this. Look at you, dripping all over me already." He pulled back only to slam in again, the double stretch punching the air from your lungs with every thrust. Your forehead pressed to the wall, mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked you hard and deep, the wet slap of skin echoing through the room.

Your mind raced even as pleasure started to override the pain. What the fuck were you going to do? You couldn't exactly banish him now—not when his cocks were rearranging your insides and your body was clenching greedily around him. This was supposed to be a stupid game with your friends, a joke. Now you were getting split open by the actual King of Curses, and the worst part was how badly you wanted more. Your pussy fluttered and gushed around him, the initial sting melting into a hot, aching fullness that made your toes curl.

"That's it," Sukuna growled, one hand sliding around to rub your clit in rough circles. "Take it. Milk your King's cocks like the desperate little slut you are." His hips pistoned faster, both shafts dragging against every sensitive spot inside you until your vision blurred. You came hard, walls spasming violently, a gush of wetness soaking his thighs as you sobbed his name.

He didn't slow down. If anything, your orgasm only spurred him on. Sukuna flipped you around with two arms, lifting you effortlessly so your back hit the wall and your legs wrapped around his waist. Both cocks drove back inside from this new angle, hitting deeper, and you clawed at his shoulders as another wave built fast.

"Gonna fill this virgin cunt," he snarled against your ear, teeth grazing your neck. "Pump you so full you'll feel it for days. You're mine now, summoner. Every hole, every drop." His pace turned punishing, the wet sounds of your cunt taking him obscene and loud. You came again, harder this time, squirting around his cocks as your body shook uncontrollably.

Sukuna's growls grew ragged. His lower hands gripped your ass, spreading you wider as he buried himself to the root and came with a guttural roar. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy, so much that it leaked out around his shafts and dripped down your thighs in messy streams. He kept thrusting through it, pushing his release deeper until it overflowed and coated his balls.

He pulled out slowly, both cocks glistening with your combined fluids. You slid down the wall on shaky legs, cum pouring from your stretched hole in thick globs. Sukuna smirked, catching some on his fingers and pushing it back inside you. "Look at this mess. My perfect little cumdump."

Your thoughts spun wildly. How were you supposed to explain this to your friends? How did you get rid of him? But your body hummed with satisfaction, pussy still twitching and leaking his seed, and when he hauled you toward the couch for another round you didn't resist.

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"Nuh-uh," she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. "We're doing something different today."

"Huh?"

She shifts, fully laying down and lining her tits with your clit with help of her hand. She circles her own nipple, making it pebble up nice and tight.

"Yuki, what are you doing?" you ask softly, supporting yourself in the headboard.

She doesn't answer you, instead she chuckles and adjusts herself, guiding your hips up a little as she positions one of her breasts right where you need it. The first brush of her stiff nipple against your slick clit makes you gasp, a soft whine slipping out before you can stop it.

"Yu-Yuki!"

"There we go," she coos. "Go on, baby. Rub yourself on it. Make yourself feel good."

You blink, the anticipation making your mind cloudy. "Are you sure?"

"Super sure, doll, don't waist time."

Your hips roll forward on their own, sliding your wet folds along the hard peak of her nipple. It's so intimate, so filthy in the best way. Her breast is plush and warm under you, giving just enough as you grind down. Yuki bites her lip, clearly enjoying the view, her free hand squeezing the soft flesh around her nipple to make it even more prominent for you.

"Fuck, I can feel how soaked you are," she says, voice dripping with amusement. "Look at you humping my tit like you can't get enough. Whiny little thing."

"Mmh, ahh!"

A desperate moan escapes you as you pick up the pace, your clit catching perfectly on her nipple with every roll of your hips. It's slippery and hot, the friction building fast. Yuki doesn't just sit there though. She's a total tease, tilting her breast away just when it feels too good, making you chase it with a frustrated whimper.

"Aww, don't pout," she laughs softly, finally letting you have it again. She presses her tit closer, letting you grind harder. "You love this, don't you? Riding my nipple like it's your favorite toy. Bet you could cum just from this if I let you."

"Yes, fuck... feels so so good,"

Your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white as you rock against her. Every slide sends sparks through your body, your clit throbbing and aching for more. Yuki's other hand roams, pinching your own nipples lightly, then trailing down to tease your entrance without giving you any relief.

"You're getting so loud," she whispers. "Those pretty whines... keep making them for me, yeah?"

The pressure builds, your hips moving faster, slick sounds filling the room as you rub yourself all over her perfect nipple. Yuki starts moving too, gently bouncing her breast to match your rhythm, making the sensation even more intense.

"Slower," she commands suddenly, pulling back just a fraction. You whine loud, chasing her desperately. "That's it. Beg for it with those hips. Show me how bad you need my tits."

"Please, Yuki," you gasp out. "I need it... please l-let me..."

She rewards you by pressing forward again, letting you grind deep and needy. Your clit is swollen and sensitive now, every pass over her nipple pulling more whines and moans from your throat. You're a total mess, sweat slicking your skin, thighs trembling as you ride her breast like nothing else matters.

Yuki's breathing gets heavier too, her cheeks flushed. She loves seeing you like this, completely undone for her. "God, you're so cute when you're desperate. Cum all over my nipple if you can."

The words push you closer to the edge. You grind harder, faster, the wet slide of your pussy against her stiff peak driving you wild. Yuki squeezes her breast again, angling it perfectly so her nipple flicks right against your most sensitive spot with every thrust of your hips.

Your moans turn into high, needy cries. "Yuki! Yuki... fuck, I'm so close..."

"Make a mess for me."

Your body tenses, hips stuttering as pleasure crashes through you. You whine loud and broken, grinding through your orgasm, slick coating her nipple and the curve of her breast. Yuki keeps you there, letting you ride it out, whispering filthy praises in your ear the whole time.

She pulls back just enough to admire the shine on her skin, then shifts to offer the other breast, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Your turn to make this one feel good too."

"Ahh?" you manage to whine.

"Well, she's going to feel very neglected if you don't ride her too, doncha' think?"

Against your wishes, you were to be married off for the sake of allyship. Meant to prove your worth to your new husband and in ways that rose bile up your throat.

For now though, you slept. What more could you do? Other than rest through the night for the demonic day awaiting you tomorrow. It was a miracle you managed to fall asleep at all. The night felt colder. Lonelier.

Until comfort crept its claws up your arms. Caressing, encasing, until you were stirring into four sets of squeezing limbs. That same warmth you yearned for when you retired for the night.

Those kisses your heart ached for soothed the back of your neck. Loosening every nerve and sparking consciousness at the base of your skull.

Then, there was that voice you wished would hum you a lullaby in a language you still didn't understand. Instead it groaned. Deep and drawled into your shoulder blade.

You considered dreams. A product of your wistful soul, spun into memories of your back pressed into a soft futon and your skin worshipped as if you were not a princess— but a goddess.

If it was a dream, it was a cruel one.

The way your cunt thrummed and heat clung to the spaces between your ribs told you otherwise.

Reality prickled into your head and your eyes fluttered open. Bleary, sleepy, needy.

Your first instinct was to squirm. A second warmth clamped on your thighs jolted you from the idea that any of this was your mind's eye.

Large, calloused palms cradled your ass like it belonged in them. If that didn't tip you off, then the husked groan dripping magma into your ear would confirm it.

"Don't. Let me hold you. Feel you. One more time."

Ryomen Sukuna himself. King of Curses. The two-faced. The mighty, murderous and mad. Hulking body craned over yours that he pinned to the plush futon. His charcoal scent invaded your senses and his touch seared into your skin. The enemy of your clan. A monster. . .

Buried balls-deep into your weeping cunt that was a bit too accustomed to him. She recognised every vein, every inch and squeezed around him in a wet, welcome home, my love.

Heat pooled in your stomach and you bit back a moan. Fingers coiled tight on your pillow and you used the leverage to dig your elbows into the futon. "Sukuna—" you yelped as the crown of your head jabbed him beneath the jaw. He only grunted.

"You shouldn't be here— Y-You're gonna get. . . mnn." Your panic seeped into the pillow as your face limped back into it. The slow drags of his cock knocked the protest right out of you. Leaving you with soft moans and a squeezing pussy.

His face fell between your shoulder blades. Those kisses brimmed with fire as they laved down your spine. He rumbled as he bottomed out. Tense from your gummy walls clenching around his base. He could already taste that sweet ring of cream that you'd leave behind.

He salivated. "Can't help it." His groan muffled into your skin as he committed to a languid rhythm. Dooming you both to the unbearable heat of love and lust. His hips nudged into the soft ass and rolled a few times. Grinding deep on the spot that had you squirming into the sheets.

"This putrid clan should be grateful that I do not tear them down here and now." His sneer punctuated with another grind into the sensitive bundle. You mewled and bucked back.

Once again he caught your hip and pinned it down. A groan, a grunt, and his thrusts grew heavier. Carving memories into your slick walls and claiming every nerve. Wet clicks brimmed the room. Your stomach flushed into the sheets when a rough grind slotted between your folds.

You squeezed your eyes shut to prevent your head from wrenching down to behold the sinful sight. Of one cock stretching you out, fucking you full, and another gliding messily between your sopping folds. Grazing your clit and smooching slick on your thighs.

Comfort returned. In his arms. Beneath him. Consumed by him. Your hands dug into the pillow and you sunk your face into the softness. Letting it hide your sins and moans as the moist clicks turned into wet, lewd slaps.

Sukun knew you better than each of his tattoos. Knew how to unravel you into his palms. How to melt you into the sheets. It was no surprise that he cultivated the right pressure and precision to hit on that divine spot within you head-on until whines poured from the back of your throat. Your toes and fingers curled.

"They should consider themselves lucky that I am showing them mercy for what they are taking from me."

Your moans seized with a palm that encased your throat. The yank curved your spine and shoved your ass further into him. Drowning him in your heat and suffocating you on his thick cock as he bent over to your slack face.

Cunt clamping, hands shaking, your gasps fanned his face while four, beady eyes honed on you. Focused. Mapping out every detail of your teary gaze and drooling mouth. Committing each to their own sinful scroll tucked away in the depths of his dark mind.

"Do you think your new husband will know your body like I do?"

He ragged and snapped forward so hard, the air knocked from your chest. The piston repeated, forcing out pretty little ah-ah-ah's from your glossy lips.

Warmth became heat. A hot stream coiled in your gut, eager to snap. He caught your need and braced his rhythm. Angling for your spasming sweet spot while demanding an answer with a growl.

"N-No one— no one ever will," you whined. Burning bliss thrummed through you as you unravelled on his unfaltering cock. His name stained your tongue.

"It's yours. I'm yours, Sukuna."

He swallowed your babble with hellfire consuming your lips. His mouth crashed on yours and muffled his groaning, "again", as his thrusts grew wilder. Rougher. As if he came in here with a ribbon of restraint that tore with your wet release. He never could control himself around you.

It was in his ragged thrusts. In his blown out pupils. In the slithered tongue that shoved down your throat and drank your moans and whimpers from the source.

It was in these moments that the king became a devotee. Three hands set to work. One squishing the fat of your ass between his finger gaps, another palming on your breast squished to the futon while the last slipped between your plush thighs and trapped your throbbing clit under his thumb.

"You're supposed to be mine," he growled as he withdrew with strings of spit from your lips to his elongated tongue.

His thumb cruelly circled your twitching bud, as if punishing every nerve for the love he would lose. He hissed.

"Mine. My bride."

Rage bled into his hips and the head of his cock that perfectly pounded into your cervix. Tenderising the sensitive opening until your whimpers stained his lips. Claws curled in your hair and shoved your face back into the pillow.

"You feel that? Feel me in your little cervix?" He hammered harder. Your moans choked and crumbled. "Maybe I should make that mine too? Fill you up with my seed and breed this pretty cunt as mine."

His pace peaked with the fantasy. Staggering to a sinful crescendo as he littered bruises to the backs of your thighs and fisted on your hair.

Your mewls were messy. Bleeding into his name, into pleads for more as he raced to give you just that. Turning into the erratic beast that you called your lover.

He only faltered when you clenched, and a husked laugh rumbled from the back of his throat. Swooping down, his lips smooched your ear the same way his cockhead slathered your insides. "You like that?" His grin was a threat, a promise, and you squeezed in response. "The thought of being bred by Ryomen Sukuna? What would your— fuck— clan think?"

You couldn't answer. Your mouth parted in a soundless scream as he shoved to the hilt and ferally bucked into your suffocating heat. Splattering slick all over your thighs and futon. Evidence of your betrayal to the place you call clan.

Sparks flooded your spine and you clawed on the sheets as two knuckles ensnared your clit. Grinding and rubbing on the sensitive bud to weed out your pathetic little sounds.

"Answer me." He sneered.

And in the depths of your pleasurable despair, you could only creep your hand back. With trembling fingers and your heart in your palm.

Sukuna faltered for the second time that night.

Here he was, fucking you into your futon and spraying your sweet juices everywhere— claiming you as his the night before your wedding. Like a monster stealing away a bride.

And still, all you wanted was to hold his hand.

"Fuck." He shattered. Claws slipping between your fingers as he engulfed your smaller hand and pinned it to the bed. Hunching over you with heated moans pouring into your ear as a bicep hooked around your throat.

His face buried into your shoulder with his sweat-stricken tuffs tickling your neck. "I don't care what they think. Your my bride. My wife."

That dreary rumble tittered on a whine and your tummy looped. Only you could ruin the King of Curses like this.

"And you'll take my seed like a good bride, won't you? Let me breed you as mine," he huffed, broken. "Not some useless human's. But mine. Huh?"

"Please." You wept. "Please I only want you. Only want your cum."

He joined your whimpers. He poured all his strength into the brutal strokes of his cock and the endless pounds of his hips. Wet slaps and splatters echoed through your chambers together with your symphonies of sin. You're certain the guards have already heard. Not that you cared. Let them dare to enter your room while you're keening for the monster they fear.

"What was that?" He grunted. "Say it again. Say it."

As if his hammering could get any heavier. In that moment, you shattered under the pain and pleasure of your bruising cervix and wanton mind.

"Please Sukuna!" Clan be damned. Let them hear your cry. "Please make— hngh— please m-make me yours. Please breed me. Make me your bride," your babbles were incoherent, but he heard loud and clear.

Your wish was his command.

His spine hunched over, his bicep squeezing on your throat and nudging your head to him as his shallow thrusts turned into animalistic ruts. Slamming into you over, and over, until the coil in your tummy snapped and your cunt throbbed— before it squeezed the life out of him.

You didn't cum. You squirted. Sprayed your juices on his barrelling cock until he was belting out a feral groan and spilling hot, thick ropes deep into your milking pussy.

"Fuck," he muffled his whine with his lips shoved onto yours. Teeth knocking and tongues tangling as he rode out your high into pitiful, desperate grinds of both of your hips.

Sukuna toppled over you. His weight squished you into the futon and you whined through your heated pants, but nuzzled into his muscled arm that became your pillow. Heat spilled from your stomach, between your legs and into the haze of relief. Of being his. Of being safe.

The silence weighed like a blanket and you considered sleep under his comfortable weight. Nothing could touch you while you were here. Anything that dared would fall dead before it tried.

"Dirty girl."

His rumble on your shoulder drew a weary smile to your lips. He mouthed up your neck and limped his larger head onto yours. "Your clan would kill you if they saw you now."

You huffed a laugh and nudged your head closer to his, sighing into the caress of his lips on your shoulder. "Would you let them touch your bride?"

He grunted into your temple and squeezed three arms around you. Insulted by your insinuation. Or amused.

"They'll never touch my queen." Warmth slipped to your stomach, cradled and comforted.

"Or my heir."

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/dollywons. art cred: @/se_5eeeee (twt)

You feel Gojo's cock twitch wildly inside you and for a second, it almost feels as though he grows bigger. Hips stammering along with his voice slightly wavering, he pants out an all too caught off-guard, "W-What?"

Sukuna's smile only widens further into something all the more wicked. Then he clasps his lower lip in between his teeth for a moment and eases the pace of his cock rubbing up and down the expanse of your slopped tongue. "Let me finish up with this pretty throat 'n I'll save the rest of my energy just for you, yeah?" He offers.

Neither you or Gojo could tell whether or not he was serious about that.

Batting those pretty white lashes of his, Gojo's brows get to furrowing and his hips still inside you completely, "That's not what I-"

Before he can even finish, you're in between the two whining at the way Sukuna's cock slides out of your mouth all of a sudden. It's like they were forgetting you were in between them already! Pouting and looking up with glassy eyes, "Kunaa-"

"Shhh, shhh," He hushes out to both of you. Then he's using one hand to cup your jaw and redirect you where he wants you. You feel his fingers smush your face, forcing your mouth to open as he then force-feeds you the drooling head of his cock again to shut you up. When you start smiling around it, he shakes his head almost endearingly before looking over to Gojo and sending him a knowing smile, "One brat at a time."

Gojo instantly starts pouting but tries to play it off as if that were because of the way your cunt started clenching around him. Muttering, "Whatever." Hardly underneath his breath.

Sukuna chuckles, "Aw, you jealous?"

"As if." He chuffs.

"Don't worry, I'll give you a taste of my cock next since you're so needy for it."

"What." Gojo deadpans one last time, as if he weren't actively cumming inside you at the very thought.

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