Shoyo’s smile doesn’t falter, he seems to enjoy the way you’re trying so hard to keep your cool.

“Gonna cut that one out?”.

You clear your throat.

“No, why would I?”, he’s not gonna beat you at your own game, “speaking of, do you date a lot?”.

He relaxes against the chair, pensively brings a few fries to his mouth. It’s almost unfair how good he looks underneath the lights of a regular fast food restaurant.

“I’d say I date the right amount”.

“You’re pretty popular”.

It’s true: despite keeping his personal life quite private, he’s often seen partying with his teammates, leaving clubs and restaurants and sometimes even the gym with some of the prettiest women you’ve ever seen.

Far from being a player, he notoriously had a few long-term relationships too. The public knows very little about his partners, he’s usually very careful about protecting both their privacy and his. Still, there would be the occasional instagram post or a few stolen pics.

Whether he’s in Brazil or Japan, Shoyo is one of the volleyball players the paparazzi follow the most. He’s their favorite, second only to Atsumu Miya. They just know he’s most probably going to exchange a few words with them, always social and willing to say hello even on his worst days.

“Am I?”, he cocks his head, “nah, honestly, I get friendzoned all the time. Actually, no, I hate that word. I just mean I’m seen as friend material very often”.

Your brows raise in interest and, honestly, skepticism.

“You? You’re seen as friend material?”.

“Yeah”, Shoyo shrugs, “not all the time but it happens. Doesn’t it happen to you?”.

With an incredulous laugh, you break character for a moment.

“Of course it does but I don’t look like that. I mean, it sounds kinda unlikely that someone wouldn’t be thrilled to-”

“Well, you won’t let me take you out, even if I look like this. Whatever that means”, he’s grinning now but the light pink dusting his cheeks is giving the slight bashfulness away. You dismiss his advances with the wave of a hand and a light scoff. He’s playing the role a little too well and it’s starting to fluster you: despite how used you should be to this kind of game by now, you never actually liked one of your guests the way you like him. It’s dangerous, not at all professional and it feels way too easy to slip into a familiarity that shouldn’t be there. It shouldn’t, right?

You first met Shoyo before the olympics, when part of Japan men’s national volleyball team was busy doing some fun promos with popular youtube channels and different magazines before leaving for Paris. You managed to score a place among several other creators and the content you picked for your video was a game you hoped the team would have fun with, the whisper challenge. They had to sit across from you and try to guess what you said while wearing headphones and listening to very loud music.

The team members who took part in your video were Bokuto Kotaro, Hoshiumi Korai, Miya Atsumu and Hinata Shoyo. While all of them seemed to have the time of their lives and you got to let go of your usual nonchalant, confident demeanor for once (quite literally melting in giggles as they kept getting the awkward pick up lines you selected awfully wrong), with Shoyo… something clicked right away. He was just so playful, endearing, confident. Flirty. You thought you had braced yourself for the notorious flirt of the group, Miya, so you were completely blindsided.

You can still recall the subtle teasing the internet loved enough to make that video your most popular one to date. The way he started by complimenting your channel and format, the mere fact that he knew you and your content at all being so startling you didn’t know what to say. How he suddenly leaned over the table to brush a lash from your cheek with the gentle touch of his thumb. The way his gaze lingered on your lips for a little too long each time. The chemistry between you and Shoyo was all everyone could talk about in the comments.

You saw him again just a few months ago, in a more formal setting: a fundraising gala he accompanied his friend and main contributor Kenma Kozume to. You were there to interview guests as they arrived, ask a few questions about the cause they were there to support. While you were allowed to crack a few jokes, exchange pleasantries with guests you had previously met or who even starred in one of your silly videos, it was a shock to meet Shoyo in such an unexpected way.

He stopped right in his tracks upon spotting you, walked over with the biggest, warmest smile on his face, leaving Kozume to enter the venue by himself without even thinking. He looked so good in a suit, you could barely keep yourself from straight out complimenting him. Shoyo, however, didn’t see why he should’ve kept quiet about how beautiful you looked in your dress. It was just a second, eyes darting to scan it for a moment, an honest smile. Then he answered your questions about the cause he was funding with a serious, passionate tone that made your heart flutter.

Before Shoyo left, his warm hand lingered on the small of your back when he thanked you, when he said he hoped to see you inside. Have a great evening, come find me later.

And now you’re both eating fried chicken, pretending to be on a date for the sake of the internet exploding. When you contacted one of his team’s publicists to inquire about the chance of having him as a guest on your channel, Shoyo sent you a message on instagram before the woman could even have the chance of calling you back. It’s just how he is and, unfortunately, you happen to like how he is a little too much.

“Well, we’re on a date right now”.

He scoffs.

“Yeah, with lights, a microphone and a few cameras”.

“You’re a volleyball superstar, thought I’d make the setting familiar for you”.

Shoyo laughs, a real, sincere chuckle vibrating in his chest. His gaze lingers on you for a few seconds, indecision swarming in his hazel eyes while he’s seemingly attempting to determine whether he should voice his thoughts or not.

“It’s not fair that you get to be that pretty and funnier than me, you know”.

Your giggle is less relaxed and you wonder if Shoyo can sense the way your heart is fumbling in your chest while he keeps weighing you with that inquisitive, magnetic gaze of his.

“Did you ever sit with someone and think damn, I wish this was a real date?”, he asks.

“Sometimes”, the answer you offer is cautious, which makes him smile.

“But you never give it away”.

“Of course not”.

“Because you’re a professional”.

“You take volleyball seriously, I take dates over fried chicken seriously”.

Shoyo chuckles again, mirth sparkling in his eyes.

“Who says I’m not taking this seriously? I was just wondering. You seem kinda nervous”.

Oh, he’s good. More than anything, he’s getting under your skin and you simply cannot allow that.

With a smile, you relax your shoulders.

“You think you make me nervous?”.

“Maybe a little?”.

“You blushed when I implied how handsome you look”.

Shoyo hums, graciously taking the hit.

“I did. It happens, when I like someone”.

“Ah, c’mon”, you huff out a laugh, “you’re being unfair”.

He grins, not bothering to hide the satisfaction in witnessing the cracks in the facade.

“Is this one of those dates, then?”.

“Which ones?”.

“You know. Don’t play coy”.

You clear your throat and take another sip from your soda.

“We should get to the uncomfortable questions before I decide”.

“Great”, Shoyo agrees, “I have a few”. 

It’s one of the weirdest, most enjoyable videos you ever filmed.

You’re usually the one asking the questions, subtly teasing your guests whilst trying to explore their preferences and habits. However, this time, it felt like you kept chasing an advantage you never had: Shoyo was the one calling the shots, asking the questions, personal and fun in a way you were not used to on camera. He had an odd way of going with it, while refusing to allow you to lead he also always made sure to keep it playful and gingerly checked whether you were actually having fun or he was making you uncomfortable.

By the time you wrapped up the interview, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that the job was done. His publicist is ready to leave, cab already called, but Shoyo asks for ten more minutes alone with you, insists on ordering coffee and paying for it despite the cashier assuring him that everything has already been taken care of by you and your crew.

“You think it turned out okay?”, he sits next to you, more relaxed now that the cameras are turned off and there’s no one else in the small restaurant, “did I do well?”.

“You did great”, it’s easy to disguise the slight disappointment in your voice, “thank you for going along with it, I’m sure everyone’s gonna love it”.

Shoyo hums.

“It was pretty easy, going along with it I mean”.

“You’re a natural”.

He smiles in that warm way of his, the one that makes you feel as if your heart is no longer yours to control.

“I’m not gonna ask for your number”.

You’re taken aback and, for a second, your face must have given away how disheartened the bluntness of his words made you feel because Shoyo’s gaze softens.

“I… what? Of course! I didn’t expect you to. This was just work”.

He scans your expression for a few moments more, the furrowed brows and the way you’re avoiding his gaze.

Cute, he thinks.

Over a period of months, you had slowly pulled at the protective layers he kept around him. You learned little tidbits about his life, his work, his personality, and with every new piece of knowledge... you fell harder.

Today, you were determined to take the next step.

“Uh, Levi... I was thinking,” you said, delivering his pot of tea and empty cup to the small table he occupied in the corner. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

Levi glanced up, startled.

He couldn’t deny that he liked you. You were the only person in here that didn’t offer him a smile that was completely fake. He liked that when you were having a rough day, you didn’t pretend everything was okay. You weren’t afraid of showing the rough along with the smooth. It was refreshing.

“Why would you do that?” Levi said, immediately kicking himself when your face fell. “That came out wrong. I just... don’t know why you would want to. I’m not exactly the best company.”

Levi’s gaze dropped to the dish towel you were currently wringing through your fingers. His dark eyebrows rose into the curtains of his hair when you suddenly dropped into the chair opposite, but he didn’t protest.

“ ‘cause I like you. I think you’re real interesting and ever since I started working here, I’ve thought about you way too much. I smell disinfectant and remember when you recommended a different brand than the one we were using. I make tea and I wonder what you’re doing with your day. Maybe I’m overstepping—and you could probably get me fired—but I get the sense that you’re not happy and I want the chance to change that.”

For the first time, he didn’t want to decline.

For the first time, he wanted to see where this led.

“I’d say, be my guest, but you already are.”

Should I tear my heart out now?

Everything I feel returns to you somehow

I want to save you from your sorrow

Return to the set list

Sukuna can't deny that he would like to see you every day. He craves your presence, your touch, your company. He would like to sleep curled around you every night in his bed in his temple. He would like to have you join him during his baths. He would like to have you sit across from him at every meal Uraume serves him.

But when he brings it up one evening when he and you are tangled up in your bed, bodies still hot and sweaty from your freshly spent passion, you smile and shake your head slightly,

"My place is here. I don't think I would be fit to be the woman by your side, my Lord."

Sukuna's first instinct is to bark a command, demanding you to obey him and come with him. Telling you that no one says no to the King of Curses. But he closes his mouth again before his lips can form any words like that. It doesn't feel right to say that to you.

Sukuna almost laughs out loud at the realization. He is a man used to taking what he wants, a man used to everyone kneeling before him and following his orders obediently or dying a gruesome death.

But it's different when he is with you. He doesn't want to scare you or force you to obey his wishes. He doesn't want to use his power and strength against you. No, when it comes to you, Sukuna cannot bring himself to do any of that.

What would your connection even be worth if he forced you to come with him? It would just be like everything else in his life. Empty and fake. Sometimes, Sukuna catches himself thinking that nothing in his life is real. Everyone is just playing an act around him, careful to please the monster they fear. So terrified of him that they do anything to avoid his anger. And others are constantly sucking up to him, wanting nothing more than using him for their own gain. All they care about is his power, his riches, his protection.

How refreshing it is to hear you say no to him. How refreshing it is to see how honest you are. How brave. Sukuna's heart swells with pride and admiration.

No, he won't force you to come with him. He doesn't want to taint what the two of you have. He doesn't want it to become nothingness, just like everything else in his life. When one can take anything he wants without resistance, everything slowly loses meaning. But what you and Sukuna have is meaningful, and Sukuna wants it to stay that way.

And so he just laughs gruffly and tightens his four arms around you, pressing himself against you from behind, wrapping his huge, muscular body around you, holding you at least for a few hours here in your bed, while he adds softly,

"You are the only one that is fitting to be the woman by my side. I hope you'll give it more thought and maybe change your mind, little one. But if not, I will just come find you here. But know that I won't ever take another woman. The place beside me is reserved for you."

Sukuna sees you lift your head and look at him with surprise written all over your face. You reach out, and your tiny hand cups his disfigured cheek oh so tenderly. Caressing him as if he isn't the monster that everyone fears. He leans into your tender touch like a starving man, his four eyes closing momentarily as he just lets himself bask in your loving touch.

Sukuna's enjoyment is still laced with fear. It still scares him what you do to him. How you managed to put him under your spell. He is so strong and powerful, but his heart feels so fragile since he found his way into your arms.

Sukuna sighs and rolls off you, gazing down at your small figure on the bed, letting his hands travel slowly down your naked skin from your shoulders down to your thighs before he straightens up, his hair almost brushing against the ceiling of your small hut.

"Sleep well. I'll come to visit you again soon."

The smile he gifts you is too tender to ever be shown in bright daylight, but here in the dim lighting of your hut, which is only illuminated by several small lanterns, Sukuna thinks it is safe to show such raw emotion.

He walks back to his temple through the nightly forest, taking his time, breathing in the cold night air that carries the earthy scents of the forest. On his clothes, he can also still smell the soup you cooked for him. And underneath that is another smell. Your scent. Flowers and herbs and magic mixed with the sweetness of your sweat and your arousal that is still clinging to Sukuna's skin.

A light chuckle escapes his lips as he slowly follows the narrow path through the forest. Yes, you truly awakened another side of him. Who would have thought that the feared monster could become so tame and so vulnerable for a tiny human woman?

But Sukuna doesn't know just how vulnerable he made himself by falling for you until he returns to your hut three days later.

He is still quite a bit away when his nose catches the faint smell of smoke. His nostrils flare, and all four sapphire eyes scan the trees around him. His strong body is alert, his muscles taut, and his hands are balled into fists as he sniffs the air.

It is unmistakably a smell he is all too familiar with, a smell that he is often the cause of. The smell of destruction and violence. Blood and smoke.

Sukuna breaks into a run before he is even aware of it. He rushes through the forest, his large feet landing heavily on the soft forest trail. His breath is harsh in his ears, and his body is tense, every muscle ready to strike.

He can already sense the tragedy before he even reaches his destination. And he gets the cruel confirmation he dreaded when he enters the small clearing where your hut stands. Or rather used to stand. There is not much left of it.

A fire crackles loudly as the bright flames flicker in the soft breeze, swallowing the wooden structure. Your few belongings are scattered all over the forest floor. The pots you cook your delicious soup in, the little flasks with all the things you collect in the forest, your bedding on which Sukuna made you his over and over again just three nights ago, and the beautiful red silk scarf he brought you as a present, half of which is burned to ashes.

Sukuna has never known fear like this, as when he stands frozen in place, his four sapphire eyes wide open as he stares at the destruction before him. His chest feels so tight. The smoke fills his nostrils and his lungs, choking him. And even worse than that, there's also another all too familiar smell filling his senses. The metallic smell of blood. A scent Sukuna usually enjoys because it means food or that he had fun wreaking destruction. But today, the metallic dark red scent is making him nauseous.

He draws in a sharp breath, finally able to move again as his gaze darts around. He can see a trail of dark red liquid sticking grotesquely to the light green grass that your naked feet used to dance on.

Sukuna follows that trail, not like a hunter this time, but like a man walking toward his execution, mind reeling with dark thoughts, heart heavy, convinced that what he will find at the end of this red trail will bring his demise.

Because how could Sukuna still call himself alive if you were taken from him so cruelly? Was he even truly alive before he met you? Before you kissed him and loved him and treated him like a man instead of a monster?

Sukuna grits his jaw. Either this will lead to the ruin of the feared King of Curses, or it will lead to an even more terrifying rule of terror. He will burn everything to the ground, will burn the whole world down, will cut everything and everyone to pieces, will stand in the flames and watch them all burn and bleed and scream and beg for his mercy. But Sukuna will have none. He doesn't need this world if you aren't in it anymore! His kingdom will be worth nothing if he doesn't have his queen by his side. No one deserves to live when his beloved was taken from him!

Regret joins Sukuna's desperation and anger. Regret that he never told you the sheer extent of his feelings for you. That he didn't court you like he should have.

Sadness threatens to drown him when he thinks of all the half-finished poems lying around in his study in his temple, all his attempts to put into words what he feels for you. Would you have smiled if he had given you one? Would you even have been able to read those poems, or would Sukuna have had to read them to you? Would you have found them beautiful? Would you have understood how much you meant to him?

Did you die crying out for him? Did you die, not knowing that he... that he loved you?

Sukuna's nails dig painfully into his palms, drawing blood, causing wounds he doesn't even bother to heal. He forbids himself to dwell on those thoughts, accelerating his speed as he rushes through the forest.

Sukuna's strong legs sway for a split second when he spots your crumbled figure lying under a tall tree.

He is by your side in an instant, the King of Curses kneeling in the dirt, staining his beautiful white pants with your blood and the muddy dirt of the forest floor, but he doesn't care. His four thick arms instinctively reach out but then stop a mere breath away from your lifeless figure. Scared to touch, scared to cause even more damage.

When Sukuna finally touches you, it is gentle, almost timid. Just his fingertips ghosting over your bloodied skin. He sends his reverse cursed technique through his skin to yours. He doesn't dare breathe, fearing it will be a fruitless attempt.

Fearing you are already gone. Fearing you have already stepped over the threshold to the afterlife without him, lost and lonely, scared out of your mind because he didn't manage to protect you, even though he is the most powerful sorcerer, the most feared monster.

"No."

The word comes out in a broken whisper as Sukuna grabs you and pulls you into his lap, strong jaw clenching when he sees the damage the intruders did to you. The countless bruises, the scratches, the blood, the ripped clothes. A part of him dies in that forest as he stares down at the broken body of the one he loves.

"Come back to me, little one! Open your eyes! Look at me!"

Sukuna's voice sounds like the growl of a wild animal, too harsh and too loud in the otherwise eerily silent forest. He sends more reverse cursed technique through his fingertips, pressing them against your skin, almost crushing you in his urge to heal you.

Fear and anger are a dangerous combination. The words leaving Sukuna's lips are harsh, cruel even, demanding, filled with the desperation of a man who thinks he has lost everything,

"Don't you dare leave me, woman! Open your eyes! I didn't allow you to go! Your King demands you to look at him, you damn brat! Look at me! I forbid you to die!"

Sukuna's voice breaks at the last word. His vision is blurry, and he doesn't know why. Is it sweat running into his eyes? Is it the smoke from your burned-down hut? His face feels wet, and he wonders if it is your blood soaking his skin, marking him with the guilt he feels for not being there for you when you needed him.

Sukuna presses his teeth together. He feels light-headed. From the fear, from the guilt, from the sheer amount of power he is using to send all that reverse cursed technique through his fingertips to your cold, bruised skin. He doesn't care, though. He will give you more. Will give you all of him until he uses up all his strength.

If he cannot bring you back with his power, then he will just die here next to you. Will place his huge body over yours, protecting you from the wild animals who will surely soon be attracted by the scent of your flesh. But they will have to go through him first. At least he will be able to do that for you.

A broken, raw sound escapes Sukuna's throat at the same time as a small, barely audible gasp leaves your lips.

Your eyes open, looking weakly up at Sukuna, staring uncomprehendingly at him. Sukuna draws in a sharp breath, his large hands grabbing you tightly as if he is scared you will slip through his fingers again if he lets go of you. The wetness in his eyes is even worse now, clouding his vision, spilling over, running down his cheeks hot and wet.

Your tiny hand comes up weakly to cup his cheek, just like you always do, gently caressing the black markings on his face and wiping away the strange wetness on his face.

"Sukuna... oh Sukuna. You came. I knew it. I knew you would find me in time."

You speak the words as if you never doubted he would save your life. As if you are completely convinced that your fates are entangled until the end of time. And maybe it truly is like that.

Sukuna lets out a relieved breath. He leans into your gentle touch, turning his face so he can press a kiss to the inside of your palm. He can taste your blood on his lips and the salty taste of what must be his own tears.

How strange. He can't remember ever crying before. Not even when he was just a starving, abandoned child who wandered through the streets looking for a way to survive. Not even when everyone called him a monster and threw stones at him had he ever spilled any tears. But you... you bring out so many new things in him. It's terrifying and beautiful in equal parts.

But right now, all that Sukuna feels is relief. Relief so immense that it makes him grin broadly at you, his chest filled with tingling exhilaration, his mind light-headed as he lets his gaze wander over you, watching your wounds close again, watching the life come back into your eyes.

Just looking at you isn't enough, though. Sukuna needs to touch you, needs to feel your skin becoming warm under his palms, needs to feel your heartbeat under his hand. He needs to make sure you are truly breathing, living, part of this world again. Part of his world. Or maybe not just part of Sukuna's world, but his whole world.

His large hands run over your body restlessly, still sending his healing powers into your skin.

"How are you feeling? Does it still hurt somewhere?"

You shake your head, a dreamy expression in your eyes as you look up at him.

"I feel good. You healed me. Thank you."

A weak but genuine smile lifts your lips, making Sukuna gulp hard. He can't look into your eyes for too long, or he fears you will see too much of the raw emotions cursing through him. Instead, he inspects your body scrutinizingly, checking for even the smallest scratch.

Sukuna is satisfied with what he sees. Your wounds have closed beneath the dried blood. All the broken bones are fixed again. His little fragile bird is whole again. Its broken wings are fixed again.

Regardless, one of Sukuna's large hands is slipping under the torn fabric of your robe, cupping your left breast, pressing his palm against your naked skin, feeling your heartbeat fluttering underneath it, counting it, waiting until it has settled into the familiar, strong rhythm it always has when he rests his head on your chest after making love to you on your small bed.

Finally, Sukuna dares to let his gaze wander to your face, his voice rough when he asks,

"Who did this to you?"

You shake when you tell him what happened. How a group of men came up to your hut as you were cooking, how they instantly attacked you, demanding you to hand over all of your belongings. They took everything of worth from you and then set fire to your home before they proceeded to attack you while laughing and telling you that you wouldn't get out this alive. You tried to run from them, fleeing into the forest, but they caught you again.

You can't describe them other than they had dark hair and black clothes, but Sukuna doesn't need more than that. He can still smell them on you.

He makes sure that you are comfortable, slipping out of his haori to carefully put it under your head as a cushion. Telling you to rest and that he will be back in a short time. He takes your hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing your knuckles, his blue eyes burning into yours as if he is trying to make you understand he will do anything to make up for his mistake.

Sukuna moves through the forest with all his senses sharpened. In his hunting mode again. The powerful predator chasing his prey. The merciless monster looking for the kill. He can smell the stench of your attackers and can easily follow their trail down a narrow path through the forest.

He hunts them down quickly and finds the small camp they set up by the river, where they cook fish over a fire and laugh and chat as if they didn't just try to take everything from him.

Their laughter stops the moment they see the large, strong figure break through the underwood. And the laughter turns into screams of terror when Sukuna smirks cruelly at them as he snaps his fingers to slash their Achilles tendons, stopping them effectively from running from his wrath.

Now, Sukuna's laughter fills the air as he watches them fall into the muddy grass, scrambling desperately in their attempt to crawl away from him, screaming and begging. Begging for mercy he doesn't have.

"You laid your hands on what is mine. Now, you will suffer the punishment for it."

"Please let us go, Sukuna-sama! We didn't do anything wrong! We serve you devotedly! We would never attack any of the villages under your protection! It was just a useless woman!"

"Silence, insect! I didn't allow you to speak to me. That woman is mine. How dare you touch what belongs to me!"

He sees the comprehension settle over their faces, all hope leaving their eyes as they realize what they did. A satisfied smirk spreads over Sukuna's face as he slowly walks towards them, laughing when he sees their futile, pathetic attempts to crawl away. To escape from The King of Curses. From the God Ryomen Sukuna.

He stops only a few steps away from them, gazing down at them with cold hatred burning in his blue eyes.

"Usually, I would tell my loyal servant to come here and pick up your dead flesh after I am finished with you so they can cook it for me. But rotten people like you don't deserve the honor of being eaten by me. You will decay here in the dirt, getting eaten by worms and other animals."

Their screams, when he uses his power to slice them open and tear them apart oh so slowly, are sweet to Sukuna's ears. But it's not enough. Killing them didn't bring him the peace he hoped it would.

Sukuna knows there is only one place where he will feel better. By your side.

He hurries back to you, the tension leaving his strong body when he sees you sitting up where he left you, wrapped into his haori, hugging yourself and smiling at him. That sweet, warm smile that is always so full of affection.

Sukuna is by your side in a heartbeat, swooping you off the ground and into his arms, cradling you to his broad chest. You laugh, but he can still hear how shaken you are, and it almost breaks him. He feels sick. Sick at the thought of the pain and fear you had to endure. Sick at the thought of what almost happened. How he almost lost you forever.

Sukuna's arms tighten around you, his low voice rough and determined when he tells you,

"You're coming with me. Enough is enough. It isn't fitting for my lover to live out here in the woods anyway, and it surely isn't fitting for my future bride."

Your eyes widen at the word bride, but you smile softly at him, a small hand coming up to touch his chest, resting on his buff pectoral muscles,

"Alright, bring me to your temple until I fully recover. Maybe you can help me rebuild my hut afterward..."

Sukuna laughs gruffly as he presses a tender kiss to your blood-stained forehead. Even now, you so desperately want to stand on your own feet. But it's a small victory, at least. He can bring you to his home, take care of you, make sure you are wrapped in the softest silk, and eat the most nurturing meals to get you back to perfect health.

And who knows, maybe once you have seen the life Sukuna can offer you, you will finally let him have his way and keep you forever.

So Sukuna starts walking. He carries you all the way to his temple and smiles when he hears your soft gasp upon seeing its sheer size.

He tells Uraume to get clothes for you and everything else a woman might need.

"And make sure everything is of the finest quality. I only want the best for my betrothed."

Uraume raises a curious eyebrow at that but bows respectfully and replies with the usual politeness,

"Of course, Lord Sukuna. I will get the finest garments and items for your Lady."

You protest even in your weakened state, claiming that you don't need anything special and that you are used to living a simple life in the woods. But Sukuna just hums softly and carries you deeper into the temple.

"Oh, little one, I know you aren't here for my riches, but just let me spoil you a little bit, at least."

You sigh and snuggle against his naked chest, murmuring something about how good he is to you, and Sukuna can't help but make a strange noise, a low rumble deep in his chest, almost like a purr.

He carries you straight into his bedchamber. A place that is usually sacred to him. So private that no one is allowed in here apart from his loyal servant Uraume.

Sukuna gently lays you down on his bed, careful not to hurt you, gazing down at you with his four sapphire eyes full of love. Finally, the suffocating tightness in his chest vanishes, and Sukuna feels at ease again.

So far, Sukuna has only shared your small bed in your hut with you. But now you will share his bed with him, a huge bed the size of half your hut, with sheer endless silk pillows and luxurious sheets. No one else was ever allowed in here. But when it comes to you, all his former rules don't apply anymore.

Sukuna trusts you. And he wants you here. He wants to share his bed with you, wants to share his whole life with you.

You are his beloved, his woman, his bride.

Sukuna lets his eyes slowly travel over you. Your body is so small compared to his huge bed, but you look so comfortable, and your skin looks so beautiful against his red silken bedsheets. You meet his gaze, looking up at him with trust and love in your eyes. The way you always look at him, despite him being who he is and looking the way he does.

Sukuna smiles at you as he tenderly brushes the hair out of your face.

"Rest now, my love. You are safe here."

He sits on the side of the bed, watching you and petting your hair as you drift off to sleep.

Sukuna can't help but think that this is where you belong. In his temple. In his bed. He hopes you will stay forever. And if not, he will have to find ways to convince you. He will not risk losing you again.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! It's been a while since I wrote the first part of this story, but I couldn't get this version of Sukuna out of my mind again. I am so happy that I finally finished Part 2!

I hope you enjoyed it and that you would like to be Sukuna's bride after reading this 💗💗 I certainly do ;)

Your giggle echoes across the empty street and Rin finds himself basking in your usual affection, something he’s well aware he hardly deserves.

It’s true, though. One day, back in high school, you were assigned to the same group project with two other classmates and that’s when the information of being in the same class in the first place was presented to him. You talked too much and smiled too often but when it came to doing actual work, you turned into a weirdly serious, responsible student. Instantly, too. Which would’ve been an interesting aspect of your personality, if he so much as cared.

You both ended up being the only two putting in real work to finish the project but the only thing Rin could think of was that he was relieved his perfect grades could stay perfect despite the dead weight. Except, you didn’t leave him alone ever since, apparently happy (always way too happy) to have found a new friend. He doesn’t remember how many times, throughout his high school years, he had to repeat that you two were not friends. Over and over again, the deterrent had failed miserably.

Rin has kinda made peace with your presence in his life by now, despite adulthood and your careers playing a significant role in keeping you apart, whenever he visits his hometown you’re there and whenever you happen to be where he is, you insist on seeing him. Stubborn as he’s always been, in his own mind Rin stands his ground that there’s nothing tragically wrong in allowing you to consider him your friend, still. There’s also nothing particularly dramatic in letting himself indulge in someone else’s obstinate fondness.

You’re a good person, he knows that much. Patient, generous, always the first to offer help and the last to ask for anything. You’re stupid. And gullible. Way too easy to take advantage of. It’s why he, to this day, still keeps an eye on you, walks you home in the middle of the night, doesn’t shut the door like he’d do with anyone else when you show up uninvited to his house. Sometimes he brings you something too, little mementos from his travels that hold no real meaning, despite the way your eyes shine with wonder when he begrudgingly hands them to you.

Rin knows you like him. Or at least you used to, so many years ago. He remembers hearing you confessing the secret to one of your closest friends. You never really told him, a good person but still too proud to give him the satisfaction of rejecting you, stood by his side when no one else would put up with his pissy attitude, always disregarding your feelings. Even when he had girlfriends you were there, feigning nonchalance. Stupid. He remembers how he immaturely tried to get you to admit it, shared petty details of his dates, told you he thought he was falling in love with other girls. Your smile barely faltered.

Why did you do that to yourself all that time, he still wonders. But then again he’d have to ask himself why his impatience, or rather lack of understanding, led him to kiss you when you were both visiting your families for the holidays, back from college.

Rin remembers the snow, the umbrella you were holding trying to clumsily cover him too. He remembers you were babbling some nonsense about how proud you were of him, of his career, the way you always knew he was destined to great things, his blue lock jersey still stored safely in the back of your closet. Rin remembers the way he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, dry and chapped from the cold. Was that truly the only way to get you to shut up? He doesn’t know. He just knows he didn’t expect you to take a step back, thank him for walking you home. The kiss was never mentioned again, the following day you acted like it never happened and he was glad he could carry on without the burden of weird expectations. Well, almost completely glad.

He didn’t kiss you because he liked you or desired something as unnecessary as a relationship, he’s sure of that. He just wanted to, in that moment. A stupid whim. And if the urge of shutting you up in the softest way has possessed him multiple times after that day and throughout the years, out of mere curiosity or simple convenience, he’s never really admitted it to himself. 

You showed up one day, never left, are still part of his life. It’s an axiom he’d never expect to change. Perhaps he finds some comfort in it.

“You really can’t hang out tomorrow? ”, you’re doing that thing you always do when you’re disappointed, furrowed brows over big eyes that are rapidly losing their usual glow as you blink a few times. He sighs.

“I really can’t”.

“How long are you in town for?”.

“A few days”, he pauses for a second, then decides to concede, “we’ll have plenty of time”.

The way your lips immediately curl into a sweet smile almost makes him crack one too. Rin also loves how you never change.

“Oooh, you wanna hang out with me so bad!”.

“Shut up”.

“We’ll have plenty of time! Because I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world!”.

“Now you’re really pushing it”.

You laugh again, something tender settling over your features. He once more recognizes the affection in your gaze and has to look away.

Rin has hated October 10 for as long as he can remember.

It wasn’t always like that, as a kid it was a special day he got to celebrate his favorite person on. His brother went from being his personal hero and best friend, to a stranger he couldn’t recognize, to an adult he tries to have a decent relationship with, now. Still, October 10 is a hassle. If Sae is in town, something he tries to do for their sake, their parents always insist on having a small birthday celebration at home.

His mother spends hours decorating the living room, orders a cake so big it would require at least ten additional guests, they have so many gifts ready and wrapped by the table. For the past few years, Rin has been getting his brother a gift too. Not exactly a peace offering but the promise of getting there, perhaps.

It infuriates him that Sae still acts perfectly normal around him, never hostile, indifferent at best. They barely talk to each other but Rin doesn’t want to spend his entire life seething, he doesn’t want for one single feeling to define him anymore. So he also accepts the birthday gifts his brother sends him on September 9.

It’s just a day, he mentally repeats, it will be over soon. But he doesn’t expect the doorbell to ring, everything has already been delivered and they didn't invite anyone.

Rin certainly doesn’t expect you, standing on his doorstep with a million dollar smile and clearly hiding something behind your back.

“What are you doing here?”, he’s frozen, in disbelief. You’re not supposed to be there.

“Surprise!”, you grin, “look what I finally found!”.

You’re suddenly holding something so close to his face he has to take a moment to focus to understand what he’s looking at. It’s a horror game, one he’s looked everywhere for because they don’t sell those anymore. Rin only mentioned it once but of course you mentally took note and conducted your own, personal research. It must’ve costed you a fortune. You’re such an idiot.

“It’s not a good time”, he takes a step back, hoping you’ll get the hint and do the same. Your smile falls.

“I know. I just wanted to drop this off. Here”, you hand him the neatly packed gift. Rin takes it, then meets your gaze for a second. He wants to say something, apologize, but you’ve already turned your back to him and are quickly granting his wish of being left alone. He asks himself how much patience you have left, how close you are to abandoning him and his asshole ways for good.

“Who are you?”.

Rin freezes a second time, the voice behind him so close and oddly interested. You stop in your tracks, whip around to look at someone who isn’t him. Something hard flashes across your features but it’s quickly whisked away when you offer one of your usual, polite smiles.

“No one, I was just passing by”.

Something inside Rin cracks. No one? You can hardly ever shut up about being his friend. 

Sae hums.

“You should come in. There’s extra cake”.

When their mom catches sight of you, she also invites you in and there’s really no turning back from that. You’re too well mannered, too acquainted with his family to refuse. So you indulge them.

From the kitchen, he observes something he never thought would (or should) happen. Sae, the most infuriatingly detached, impassive person on the planet, is sitting next to you on the couch, where you’re making polite conversation. He’s listening. Rin knows he’s listening because he keeps his eyes on you, stance relaxed. Who knows what nonsense you’re rambling about this time, unfinished cake in the paper plate balanced on your knees. He says something, you chuckle. Rin focuses on his own unfinished cake, suddenly nauseous.

All these years, this is the one thing he didn’t want to happen, you meeting his brother. It’s petty and childish and Rin isn’t even quite sure why the desire to keep you from him has burned ardently this entire time but the fact that his efforts have vanished in the space of one afternoon brings a strange weariness.

By the time you excuse yourself, his parents are begging you to stay over for dinner. You refuse, thank them, thank Sae the most and wish him the happiest birthday. He dismisses your formality with the vague wave of a hand, says he hopes to meet you again. You smile sweetly.

“There’s no need”.

Rin ignores your objection similarly to how you ignored him the entire afternoon, finishes buttoning up his coat instead. He always walks you home and today will be no exception.

The silence between you two is so uncharacteristic it irritates him, to the point of affliction. Are you that upset with him? Ah, the magic must’ve finally flickered out.

“So, how was it?”, he spitefully pushes, “meeting the legendary brother”.

You keep your gaze on the street.

“It was okay”.

Rin scoffs.

“Just okay? You two really hit it off”.

“He was kind to me”.

“I’m sure he was”.

You finally stop in your tracks to look at him.

“Just because we’re friends it doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole all the time, you know”.

Rin stops too, lips parted, breath condensating into a tiny cloud by his mouth. The serious look you’re fixing him with makes his shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry”, he murmurs. Your gaze softens and he hates it, how easy it is for you to cut him some slack.

“Can you tell me what’s really wrong, Rin?”.

He feels like throwing up.

“Nothing is wrong”.

You hum, pensive, take the time to kick a tiny rock with the tip of your boot.

“I really think you should give yourself some grace. You deserve some peace”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“It means you’re so focused on protecting yourself from imaginary threats, you can’t see”.

“See what?”.

You offer a sad smile.

“How bright you shine”.

Rin is so taken aback he doesn’t know what to say, surprise paralyzing his entire body. He hasn’t felt like this in a while, perhaps years. It’s not fair that you have access to such a vulnerable side of him, it’s not fair that he can suddenly sense a weird lump in his throat.

“I don’t shine-”, he spits the word out, disgusted.

You’re usually very careful about his boundaries, whether they’re a hoax or not. But this time? You do something you’ve never done before, roughly take his face in your cold hands to make sure he keeps his gaze on you instead of avoiding it like a coward.

“You shine, Rin. I’m so tired of you being the only one refusing to see it. You’re the most resilient, talented, hardworking person I know. You did good. But the challenge is over, there is no war anymore, you don’t have to persist in this stubborn seclusion”, your eyes are suddenly wet, tears precariously collecting in your lash line, “you get to rest, now. Please, be proud of yourself and rest. There’s nothing to be on your guard against”.

He doesn’t remember his heart ever squeezing as painfully in his chest before, the urge to take your face in his hands making the pads of his fingers itch. He doesn’t remember the last time he came so close to let a few tears fall.

He’s gonna take you too. Just like he takes everything from me.

The thought takes his breath away for a moment. He feels your thumb gently stroke his cheek.

“You’re the legendary brother to me, anyway”, you smile, then sniffle.

Has he split himself wide open for you or are you simply that good at reading him? Rin can feel his hands shake when they fist the fabric of your plush jacket.

“Why are you telling me this?”, he can barely recognize the desperation vibrating in his own voice, “why do you even put up with me?”.

You blink a few times, astonished. Then smile again, warm and bright like the sun. Oh, he doesn’t shine, you do.

“Because I love you, obviously”.

And Rin doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to wonder what you mean. He knows. He’s known all this time.

“Why did you never tell me?”.

“Because you wouldn’t have let me do it in peace”, you chuckle, “you don’t like me like that so you wouldn’t have let me love you. As if I needed something in return. As if loving you as a friend couldn’t possibly be enough, anyway”.

His fingers are hurting from how tightly he’s still fisting the fabric of your jacket. It feels like his insides are exploding with a million different emotions and he doesn’t have nearly enough time to interpret them. But does he really need that, after all? Time. He’s known you for so long. 

“Stop putting up a fight, silly”, you let go of his face but flick his forehead, to which he grimaces, surprised, “let me love you. I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world after all! Who cares about your stupid brother? No wait, that came out mean, I just meant I care more about you than-”

Rin’s sudden embrace is suffocating, you’re pressed against him so tightly you genuinely struggle taking a single breath. You don’t remember him ever hugging you, the most noteworthy intentional contact you can recall is his arm around your shoulders when you insisted on taking a cute selfie, once. Every other hug, you had always initiated. His arms were always loose around you, cautious, despite his forehead often resting on your shoulder.

His clothes smell nice. He smells nice. You close your eyes, bask in a warmth so strange yet familiar. You don’t think you’ll ever love someone the way you love him.

“You’re so stupid”, Rin murmurs against your neck. With a smile, you nuzzle your face further into his chest.

“So I’ve been told”.

He thinks his heart might be seconds away from slamming itself free from his ribcage.

“Can you tell me again?”.

“What, that I don’t care about your brother? Sure, fuck Itoshi Sae. Oh no, that was also way too mean, don’t tell him I said-”

Rin pulls away abruptly, hands kept on your shoulders to keep you there or maybe to steady himself. You shut your mouth, don’t comment damp cheeks dusted with pink. It may be the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him.

“Not that, you idiot”, his pitch is gentle, with a hint of amusement. One of his hands cradles your cheek, thumb gently skimming over your lips.

“I love you”, it comes out less bold now, timid. Something melts in his chest all the same.

“Will you pretend it never happened, if I kiss you now?”.

Your exhale is shaky.

“No”.

All these years and this is the first time you’re seeing Itoshi Rin truly, openly smile. The sight does something funny to your stomach.