Stories By Willow

You grinned and gave his head one last affectionate pat before spinning on your heel. “Good boy. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

With that, you sauntered off down the corridor, silky layers swishing around you , already mentally picking out the dirtiest, most scandalous Heian-era underwear you could find.

Because if Sukuna thought physical indulgence was a weakness, you were about to become the most tempting, most infuriating weakness he’d ever encountered.

...

Twenty minutes later you're crouched outside his private bathing chamber, your heart hammering. Steam curled from beneath the sliding door like smoke from a dragon’s lair. The faint sound of water lapping against wood drifted out to you, followed by the low, rhythmic scrub of cloths over skin.

The attendant had done his part. The door sat open, just a finger’s width, but enough for you to peek in.

You took one deep, steadying breath, adjusted the scandalously loose robe you’d thrown on, and pushed the door open.

Hot, fragrant steam rolled over you in a thick wave, a scent you'd smelt on him in passing, something so unmistakably him.

The bath was enormous, carved from stone and sunk into the floor, steam rising into the air in lazy spirals. The lanterns that lined the wall cast a golden light across wet muscle and black tattoos that seemed to shift and breathe with every movement.

Sukuna lounged against the far edge, four arms draped casually over the stone rim, pink hair damp and clinging to his neck. Water beaded and slid down the hard planes of his chest, tracing every delicious ridge of muscle. The abdominal mouth sat half-submerged, occasionally licking droplets from the surface with lazy flicks of its tongue.

He hadn’t noticed you... yet.

You stepped fully inside, bare feet silent on the warm stone. The door slid shut behind you with a soft, final click that was far too loud in the steamy hush.

Heart hammering, you moved quickly, slipping behind him before common sense could catch up. A wide wooden ladle rested on the bath’s edge, which you scooped up and dipped into the water. With a shaky hand, you tipped it slowly across the broad, hardened planes of his back and shoulders.

If he suspected anything amiss, he gave no sign. His eyes remained closed, only the slightest roll of powerful shoulders, the slow tilt of his head from side to side as he stretched the thick column of his neck. Muscle bunched and released under glistening skin, black markings shifted like living shadows with every subtle movement.

The sight was delicious, obscene in its clarity. Your mouth watered so fast you nearly choked on it, drool threatened at the corner of your lips. You swallowed hard, thighs pressing together beneath the loose robe.

“Don’t just stand there...” he growled, voice low and rough, head still tilted back against the stone rim. “Do your job.”

You snatched up the washcloth, nerves jangled. Starting at his shoulders, you began scrubbing in slow, indulgent circles. Your hands quickly grew bolder, fingers pressing into every dip and valley of hard muscle. The cloth slipped lower, gliding over the broad expanse of his back, then around to his chest.

You leaned in closer, subtly pressing your body against his shoulders, face hovering just shy of his throat. The scent of him, warm skin, salt, and something metallic and dangerously addictive, flooded your senses. For a while you kept up the pretense, cloth moving in lazy strokes.

Then the washcloth slid from your fingers entirely, sinking forgotten into the water.

Your bare hands took over.

Greedy, hungry fingers, spread wide as they roamed across his chest, thumbs brushing deliberately over dusky nipples. You caught the tight buds just right and earned the smallest hitch in his breath.

His eyes snapped open, his head turning sharply, those four crimson slits locked onto your salacious, shit-eating grin.

“Good evening, Lord Sukuna” you purred, voice dripping honey and pure trouble.

He jolted, the bathwater sloshing violently over the rim, splashing across the stone floor.

“What are you doing in here?”

You let the loose robe slip from one shoulder, the silk whispering down, baring the elegant curve of your collarbone and the soft swell of one breast. His eyes dropped to follow the movement, lingering there, before snapping back up to your face.

“Well...” you continued, voice low and thick with challenge, “I heard the King of Curses likes to keep things… clean.”

A single drop of water fell from the wet tips of his pink hair, sliding down the hard line of his shoulder and catching the lantern light like liquid gold.

One clawed hand tightened on the rim of the bath until the stone creaked.

The abdominal mouth parted with a wet sound, the thick tongue slid out, tasting the suddenly heavier, steam-thickened air.

Sukuna’s upper lip curled, a slightly malevolent smile gracing his face.

“You really do have a death wish” he rumbled, the deep vibration rolled straight through your ribs and shot lightning south between your legs.

You didn’t retreat. Instead, your hand slipped a little lower, fingertips just teasing the surface of the water.

“Maybe...” you breathed, letting the robe slide another dangerous inch. “But I’m betting even you can’t ignore an offer like this when it walks in willing and half-naked.”

He let loose a low, growled warning, carmine eyes flicking down to track your hand as it dipped beneath the water.

The tongue on his stomach found your fingers first.

The sensation was bizarre, filthy and electrifying all at once. It was thick, hot, and far too dexterous, flicking across your fingertips, pressing between them like it wanted to lick every trace of your hand clean.

You gave a breathless laugh, leaning further over him, breasts pressing firmly against his broad shoulders as both arms wrapped loosely around his head.

The tongue continued its lazy, thorough exploration, curling, lapping, and sliding slick between your digits.

You shuddered hard, a soft, involuntary moan slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

“God, you’re fucking sexy” you whispered, turning your face to press an open-mouthed kiss against the hard angle of his jaw.

He shifted beneath you, almost imperceptibly at first, then more deliberately. His massive frame arched just slightly into your touch while that relentless tongue lavished attention on your fingers.

You wondered, delirious on your own bravery, how far he would actually let you go tonight.

One clawed hand rose from the water, dripping, hovering inches from your throat as if deciding whether to push you away… or drag you closer.

Those thick fingers wrapped around the back of your neck, skin as hot as forged iron. He pressed you harder against him, tilting his head to the side to give you more room, his eyes slipping shut with a low, reluctant rumble that vibrated straight through his chest into yours.

You giggled, a high, breathless, completely unhinged sound, before pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along the heated column of his throat. Your teeth grazed his skin as bit down just enough to dimple the flesh, sucking hard enough to leave a dark mark blooming on the King of Curses like a brand. The thought sent a wild thrill racing down your spine. You...marking him.

Your hand finally slipped lower, greedy and impatient for more, expecting nothing but smooth, unadulterated skin and hard muscle.

Instead, your fingers met the sodden hem of fabric.

You pulled back, lifting your head from his neck with an outright foul look twisting your face.

“Why the hell are you wearing pants in the bath?” you grumbled, voice thick with frustration.

His eyes fluttered open, the usual sharp crimson softened into something almost hazy. You’d never imagined seeing the Sukuna like this, all pliable and little undone beneath your hands. The realization made you stupidly giddy, a manic little laugh bubbling up before you could swallow it.

“That’s how one bathes” he muttered, voice rough.

You huffed, then lowered your mouth again and bit down particularly hard on the same spot. The shudder that ripped through his massive frame was downright delicious. “Could you stand for me, My Lord?” you asked sweetly, the title dripping with mock obedience.

He hesitated, just for a heartbeat, before rising slowly from the water.

It was obscene.

Water cascaded down four powerful arms and the carved lines of his torso, highlighting every cut of muscle, every shifting mark. Droplets clung the sharp V of his hips, the sopping fabric of his pants clung shamelessly to the obvious, hardening bulge beneath, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

You gently urged him to sit on the wide stone edge of the bath, hands sliding over wet skin. Your eyes zeroed in on that straining outline with zero shame.

You let your own robe slip from your shoulders entirely, the silk whispering to pool at your feet. You stood completely bare before him, skin still flushed from the steam and excitement, enhanced curves on full display.

Sukuna’s gaze roved over you like a physical touch, dragging slowly from the apex of your thighs, up the soft dip of your waist, lingering on the hardened peaks of your nipples, then higher to the line of your shoulders and the messy fall of your hair. Those four eyes felt scorching.

You stepped into the bath with him, warm water rising up to your knees with a gentle splash, this small shift in power felt electric. He watched you now, like you were the predator, not the other way around.

You moved closer, hips swaying with every careful step through the water, one hand reaching out to trace the waistband of his drenched pants, teasing the edge where fabric met skin.

“These...” you murmured, voice low and powerful, “are in my way.”

He growled, but there was no real heat behind the threat. His thighs parted just slightly as you pressed between them, water lapping at your waist now.

The abdominal mouth hovered near your stomach, tongue flicking out to taste the air between you with hungry curiosity.

Your fingers hooked into the wet fabric and tugged experimentally.

Sukuna’s hand shot out, catching your wrist in a grip that was firm but not crushing.

For one suspended second, the only sounds were the gentle lap of water and the heavy rhythm of your breathing.

His four eyes bored into yours, pupils blown wide.

“You push too far, little concubine” he rumbled, voice vibrating through the steam.

You leaned in until your lips brushed the shell of his ear, breasts pressing against his chest, nipples grazing wet skin.

“Then stop me” you whispered, nipping at his earlobe. “Or… help me take them off.”

The tension in the air crackled like lightning ready to strike, his grip on your wrist tightened, and the mouth on his stomach licked a slow, deliberate stripe along your ribs.

You gave his ear one last salacious flick with your tongue, tasting salt and skin. Then you sank lower, dragging yourself down his body inch by inch while those four cerise eyes tracked every movement.

Finally, you found yourself knelt between his thick, powerful thighs. The heat rolled off him in waves, rivalling the steaming bathwater. Your hands grasped the soaked waistband of his pants and tugged. With a minor, almost lazy shift of his hips, the fabric peeled down, clinging stubbornly to wet skin before finally giving way. You yanked them free.

One cock sprang out, heavy and proud.

Then a second followed right behind it.

You sat back hard on your heels, water sloshing violently around you.

“Bah!” The sound tore out of you, a loud, startled, downright undignified sound that echoed around the room. “What the fuck...there’s two?! Why is there two?!”

Your voice cracked so high you were certain half the pavilion had heard the scream. It echoed off the stone walls like a startled chicken in a cathedral.

Sukuna had the absolute audacity to look offended. With a deep huff rumbled from his chest, he turned his face away, the sharp lines of his cheeks flushing a shade that nearly matched his crimson eyes. “There’s supposed to be.”

“Uh, I think the fuck there ain’t!” you hissed, trying, and failing spectacularly, to stop yourself from glancing down at them.

They were… pretty. Ridiculously, unfairly pretty. Thick and perfectly curved, ruddy at their flushed tips, veins decorating the shafts like they’d been carved by some perfectly perverted artist.

If someone had asked you to draw the ideal cock, these two bastards would have been the reference material.

“Well, what do you have?” Sukuna asked, voice dripping with dry curiosity as he glanced pointedly down at your crotch, like he expected you to whip out twins of your own.

“One” you grouched, instinctively covering yourself with one hand. “I have one. A normal, single, perfectly respectable one.” You stared at the pair bobbing gently in the water between you. “Where the fuck am I even gonna put the other one?”

The thought alone made your brain short-circuit. You’d never done butt stuff, and the idea had always seemed like a one-way ticket to pain and regret.

“Butt?” Sukuna seemed to echo your thoughts aloud, one brow arching.

“I’ll cut your cock off, both of them, if you put either anywhere near my poop shoot” you snapped, eyes narrowing.

He looked offended again, those vermillion eyes skated off to the corner of the room while a distinctly petulant pout tugged at his lips. Now that was a picture, The King of Curses, pouting because you’d threatened his dicks.

You dragged a hand down your face, water dripping from your fingers. “I’ll think of something” you muttered, flapping a flippant hand like you were negotiating takeout options instead of figuring out how to handle double demon dick.

You repositioned yourself between his thighs, knees sliding on the smooth stone floor of the bath.

The two cocks twitched under your gaze, already glistening with water and something else. The abdominal mouth hovered just above them, tongue flicking out occasionally like it was offering unhelpful advice.

You reached forward again, slower this time, wrapping one hand around the base of the first. Your fingers barely met, the second rested hot and insistent against the back of your hand. Both pulsed under your touch.

Sukuna’s breath hitched, a sharp, barely audible suck of air, but you caught it.

“Two of you” you whispered. “This is either the best night of my life or I’m about to need a wheelchair and a doctor.”

One of his clawed hands came down, threading through your quickly dampening hair. He did not push or pull, just rested it there with surprising gentleness, the touch sending sparks racing down your spine.

“Still think you can handle me, little concubine?” he rumbled, voice low and rough, four eyes half-lidded as he watched you.

You looked up at him through damp lashes, a wild, manic grin spreading across your face despite the sheer logistical nightmare between his legs.

“Watch me try” you breathed.

Your thumb brushed over the slick head of the first cock, slow and teasing. The second jerked against your wrist in response, Sukuna’s grip in your hair tightened just enough to sting.

This was going to be fun.

You leaned in closer, breath ghosting over the flushed, sensitive tip. It jerked sharply in response, as if desperate to leap toward your mouth.

Sukuna’s four eyes stayed locked on you, half-lidded and burning, lips parted around heavy, ragged puffs of air that stirred the thick steam swirling between you.

“Tell me what you want” you purred, voice low and velvety smooth. Your hand dragged slowly up the thick shaft, squeezing just a little. A shaky exhale tore from his chest as his head tipped back the smallest fraction, jaw clenching so hard the muscle stood out in sharp relief.

“I’m just… so innocent” you murmured, fluttering your lashes like a demure little flower while your thumb teased the slick slit at the head.

“Don’t” he growled out in warning, the word rough and strained.

You fought down the wicked smirk threatening to break free and tilted your head with coy, feigned ignorance instead. Another slow, slick pump of your fist, thumb circling the sensitive head, pressing lightly into the slit.

His hips twitched upwards, hard, one powerful thigh spread wider, opening up for you like an invitation. Both hands gripped the edge of the bath until the stone creaked under his fingers, claws pressing divots into the stone.

“My Lord…” you hummed sweetly, finally pressing your lips to the hot length. You dragged them slowly upward, peppering wet, open-mouthed kisses along every veined inch. “Do you want me to rub?”

His breath hitched again, the hand tangled in your hair tightening by a fraction like a silent, desperate plea for more.

You weren’t satisfied, you wanted words.

“Or maybe… just lick?” You dragged your tongue in one long, filthy stripe from root to tip along the sensitive underside. A pained, guttural groan ripped from his throat. His head finally fell all the way back, throat bobbing as he swallowed, the sight sending a thrill straight down between your legs.

“Or would you like me to suck on you?” you whispered right against the glistening mushroom tip, lips teasingly brushing the swollen head. Pre-cum coated your mouth like a shiny, sticky gloss.

His head snapped back down, mouth falling open, breath coming in shaky bursts. You parted your lips, took just the tip inside, and gave it one slow, gentle suck before pulling off with a wet, lascivious drag of your plush lips.

“Fuck” he hissed, the muscles of his stomach flexing hard, rippling beautifully under the black markings, the mouth there opening and closing with a smack of its lips.

You stroked him again, almost moaning yourself when another thick bead of pre-cum slid slowly down the underside, glistening like an opalescent pearl in the lantern light. “Do something, you damned temptress.”

“My Lord!” you gasped, feigning deep hurt. You pulled your hands away completely and folded them primly in your lap, looking as innocent and contrite as a scandalised maiden. “I’m sorry. Should I leave?”

“No!” The word burst out almost like a yelp. His hand flew from your hair to the nape of your neck, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

Those flaming crimson eyes bored into you, irritation barely leashed behind barely restrained hunger. His mouth pressed into a tight line as he forced the words out through gritted teeth. “Don’t leave. Just…”

“Suck?” you offered brightly.

His spine snapped ramrod straight at your blunt word.

“Lick?” You tilted your head once more.

“Just… do something” he finally ground out, but it came dangerously close to a whine.

You didn’t give him a single second to rethink it.

Like some possessed serpent, you opened wide and took him in as deep as your throat would allow. Almost immediately, you realised you'd been overconfident.

Your throat convulsed around the thick head as it pressed against the back of your mouth. A soft gag shuddered through you, your jaw already aching from the brutal stretch.

Above you, Sukuna nearly howled. He leaned back heavily on two of his four arms, head thrown back, the filthiest, most broken groan ripping free from his chest.

The hand on your nape pressed you down just a little further before he caught himself. The grip softened almost immediately, resting heavy and warm against your neck like a gentle weight.

You began bobbing eagerly, tongue plastered flat to the underside, pressing and curling to mold around every ridge and throbbing vein. He tasted salty and warm, with the faintest floral tang of the bath oils clinging to his skin. You hummed around him in pure, shameless enjoyment.

Your other hand reached up, wrapping around the second cock, stroking it in perfect rhythm with your mouth. When you glanced up through damp lashes, a pang of genuine sorrow hit you.

If only you were back in the modern world with a camera, because this moment deserved to be immortalised.

He was a vision, all devastating and wrecked.

One large hand lifted to clamp over his own mouth, desperately trying to muffle the sounds spilling out. A deep red flush painted his face and chest, veins standing out sharp and prominent against his skin. And then his slutty waist began to undulate, hips thrusting up into your mouth in shallow, needy rolls.

You gagged again but forced your throat to relax, whole body throbbing with heat as the King of Curses used your mouth. He slid himself into your warm, wet heat over and over, the slick, obscene sounds echoing through the steamy chamber.

You braced one hand on his powerful thigh while the other kept pumping his second cock with eager twists. Your mouth flooded with more salty taste, and you swallowed desperately each time he hit the back of your throat.

He was close, you could tell, the groans rising behind his palm, growing louder and more frantic.

You wanted his eyes, needed to see his face when he fell apart.

The hand on his thigh slid higher, tapping lightly against his stomach.

He jolted violently, both hands on your head snapping away, hips sagging against the stone.

He looked shocked, almost appalled at his own lack of control.

You pulled off with a wet gasp, swallowing thickly before rasping through a slightly raw throat, “Don’t stop. I just wanted to see your face when you cum.”

His top lip curled into a vicious snarl, teeth bared. Then he grabbed you again, desperately, and pushed his cock back between your lips.

You hummed in delight, staring straight up at him as he thrust into your mouth once more.

The pleasure looked obscene painted across his features, his brows drawn tight, jaw clenched, teeth gritted, a dark flush burning across the bridge of his nose, eyes wild and glassy.

It didn’t take much more.

His hips stuttered, both hands pressed you down until your nose was buried in the neat patch of hair at his base. A deep, guttural groan of pure relief tore from him as he spilled hot and thick down your throat, enough to make you gag, eyes screwing shut while you struggled to swallow every drop.

His other cock throbbed hard in your grip, pulsing as cum splattered across your cheek and over your fingers in messy, warm streaks.

He finally released you, his hands dropping back to the stone.

You pulled back slowly, still catching the last spurts on your tongue, letting the thick, salty fluid coat your mouth. Before you could swallow again, his hand suddenly cupped your jaw, yanking you away entirely.

“What are you doing?” His eyes were wide with raw horror. “Don’t swallow that.”

The command only made you want to swallow more, just to see his reaction.

You made a dramatic show of it, grinning up at him like the gremlin you were, opening your mouth wide so he could see the mess glistening on your tongue, then closing it with an audible, theatrical gulp.

“Uraume!” he roared, head snapping toward the door.

Ice immediately flooded your veins. Had you fucked up? Were you about to be flash-frozen for making the King of Curses cum?

He turned back to you, fingers already prying at your lips, trying to force them open. “Hold still. I need to make you puke.”

“Fuckin’...stop that!” you hissed, nearly biting his fingers in the process. “It’s cum, not poison!”

The door slid open with a soft rasp.

Uraume stepped inside, expression bored at first, until their eyes fully registered the scene.

You naked and kneeling between Sukuna’s spread thighs in the bath, cum still glistening on your cheek and dripping from your chin.

Sukuna, also naked, fingers still attempting to breach your mouth while panic and post-orgasm haze warred across his face.

“Uraume” Sukuna growled, voice strained and awkward, “we need to make her sick. She just… swallowed some… bodily fluids.”

Uraume didn’t move.

Their gaze flicked slowly between the two of you, completely deadpan.

You couldn’t help it, another tiny, hysterical giggle bubbling up.

Quickly, you scooted backward into the bath and dropped yourself until only your chin remained above the water. Steam curled lazily around your flushed face as you stared up at the ceiling, heart still racing, the unmistakable taste of Sukuna still thick on your tongue.

Uraume’s voice finally cut through the steam, flat and unimpressed as ever.

“…Shall I fetch a bucket, my lord?”

✨Taglist✨: @rurujm, @yummidumplingss, @golden4starz, @itzlucious , @loulasav , @paninibit , @gonegh0stwriter , @sukioyakio , @beaconsxd , @ihesoo , @tojisbigdicksucker

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