IAN

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You look down in awe as your family finally reaches the Metkayina clan, the water so clear you can see the sea life even from so far up, Jake even has to wrap an arm more firmly around you to avoid you from falling off as you take in your surroundings with childlike wonder.

"Hold onto me, babygirl." He reminds softly as they begin to descend on a patch of sand, Jake dismounting Bob first before he lifts you up and onto the ground, watching you plop down to bury your hands in the warm sand before turning to Neytiri who just grabbed her bow. "Hey, leave it. Neteyam, take your sister please."

Without hesitation, Neteyam goes to scoop you up despite your protest, dusting off your hands with an amused shake off his head.

As the Metkayina start to gather around you and your family you hold more onto Neteyam, your tail flicking nervously when two of the clan come closer and don’t return the 'i see you' gesture, looking you and your brothers up and down instead.

You hide your face in your brother's braids instead, letting out quiet whimper at being stared at from so many people while he tries to soothe you. "It’s okay, tsmuketsyìp." You still jump in his arms when the Olo‘eyktan, Tonowari, arrives on his Skimwing.

He greets your father, the rest of your family exchanging greetings as well. "Why do you come to us, Jake Sully." He questions just as Ronal steps forward beside Tonowari, eying you all skeptically.

"We seek uturu." He replies and you see how Ronal's ears pin back almost in outrage.

"Uturu?" She repeats, exchanging a glance with her mate.

"Yes, sanctuary for my family." Your father pleads desperately.

"We are Reef People. You are Forest People. Your skills will mean nothing here." Tonowari clarifies as Ronal steps closer to you and your brothers, seeing the way Neteyam holds you protectively.

Once Ronal walks past, you start to squirm in Neteyam's arms, wanting to be put down again and he reluctantly sets you down between his legs before you can start to whine.

You crouch down to now draw small shapes in the smooth sand, distracting yourself from the tension that is in the air as the adults keep talking around you, giggling quietly to yourself.

Everything is so different from your home, more sun, more space to swim, and even more to learn, which is just as scary as it’s exciting.

You lift your head when you hear Tonowari announce that your family is allowed to stay with their clan, smiling as Jake turns to pick you up with a relieved sigh. "What do we say?"

"Thank you…" You say shyly before hiding your face in his neck as he and the rest of your family walk back over to the Ikrans to get the few belongings you were able to take with you.

You are allowed to carry something light and most importantly your favorite toy that your father made for you, almost tripping a few times as Tsireya leads you to a non occupied Marui.

"This is for you. Your new home." She says, smiling down at you when you walk past her and you quickly return it, following Jake inside the Marui.

"Yeah, this will work. This is great. It’s nice right?" Jake asks into the room and Neytiri just lets the rug she’s holding fall onto the ground with a exasperated sigh.

The sun is starting to go down as you and your family made it comfy in your new home, you skipping around with your wooden Ikran in hand when your father calls the family together.

"Okay, Sullys, fall in. Come on. Take a knee. Let’s go. Okay." He exhales, wrapping an arm around your small frame as you’re about to skip past him again and sits you down on his knee. "I need you kids on your best behavior. I mean it. Learn fast. Pull your weight. Don’t cause trouble. You got it?"

"Yes sir." Lo'ak responds, snarling when Neteyam pinches the back of neck with a chuckle as he’s the one who somehow always gets into trouble.

"I want to go home." Tuk speaks up sadly and you frown at the sad look on her face, reaching up to clumsily pat her leg as a sob escapes her.

"Oh Tuk…" Neytiri coos, her heart aching for her children that just want to be where they feel the most comfortable and safe, especially you and Tuk who have to begin from the start all over again in such a young age and leaving everything you have learned behind to adapt in your new surroundings.

"Tuk, this is our home now." Jake says softly, taking her hand in his. "Now we’re gonna get through this. We gonna get through this if we have each other’s backs. All right?"

"What does your father always say?" Neytiri reminds you and your siblings.

"Sullys stick together." Your brothers answer together.

"Yeah, that’s right. Sullys stick together." Jake smiles, his thumb rubbing over your skin from where his hand is resting your belly. "Now this time with more feeling."

This time your whole family repeats it and you clap your hands with a giggle. "Sully together!" You say proudly and it’s enough to have all off them smiling even just a little bit.

"You know it, babygirl." Your father chuckles, handing you over to Neytiri when you reach for her with a tired yawn, rubbing at your eyes.

"Time to rest, ma 'ite." She smiles fondly, pressing her forehead to yours as she carries you to your sleeping mat, laying you down carefully and starts to hum a lullaby for you, running her finger down your nose as your eyes flutter shut from that exciting day.

When it’s getting dark outside and all your sibling have gone to sleep as well Jake crouches down beside you, brushing some her from your face with a sigh as he addresses Neytiri. "What are we supposed to do with her? She can barely swim on her own and her siblings have to worry about learning fast themselves to also help her."

"She will learn. At her own pace." She assures him, though she also has been worrying about that since you’re still so young and little.

"Maybe we should keep an eye on her until we all have adapted some more, and see how we keep going from there. We both take turns in watching and helping her." He suggests, watching fondly when one of your hands grasp onto two of his fingers in your sleep.

Neytiri nods at her mate’s suggestion. "That’s a good idea, Ma Jake."

The servants bow deeply and step aside without arguing. A few moments later, you arrive running, your heart tight with anguish. As soon as he sees you, Sukuna lets out a hoarse sigh and continues toward his private chambers.

He collapses heavily onto the raised platform, his back against the thick cushions. His massive body trembles slightly from the effort. The blood continues to flow slowly along his tattoos, staining the silk sheets.

You rush to his side without waiting, already carrying clean cloths and supplies the healers gave you. Your hands tremble as you begin to clean the deep gash on his shoulder and chest.

The wound is irregular, the edges burned by enemy magic, and you see the flesh regenerating slowly, too slowly for your liking. The wound on his flank is bleeding even more, the mouth on his stomach clenched in pain every time you touch it.

“Sukuna…” you murmur, your voice tight.

He places one of his upper hands on the back of your neck, warm and heavy despite his weakness, and pulls you against him. Your face nestles against his chest. The smell of his blood envelops you.

“Stop shaking,” he growls softly, his voice tired. “It’s nothing… those insects couldn’t do anything more.”

“You’re still bleeding a lot,” you reply, throat tight. “I thought… when the servants came rushing to get me, I thought this time…”

A heavy silence settles. His four arms slowly surround you, pressing you possessively against his injured body. His four eyes stare at you with a weakened but burning intensity.

“I can’t die,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice low and hoarse. “Not as long as my pretty concubine is waiting for me here…”

One of his hands slides under your chin, gently lifting your face, and he kisses you. His lips are warm, pressing despite the pain, almost desperate. The kiss is slow, deep, loaded with everything he doesn’t say out loud.

You feel the mouth on his stomach part slightly against your belly, letting out a burning breath, while his arms hold you tighter against him.

You eventually place your hands on his chest and gently push him back, just enough to break the kiss. Your breath is short, your eyes shining with worry and determination.

“Let me treat you first,” you say firmly, your voice more assured than you really are. “You’re still losing a lot of blood. I can’t… I don’t want to lose you because of your pride.”

Sukuna stares at you for a long moment with his four eyes. A low growl rolls in his throat, half-amused, half-annoyed. The mouth on his stomach lets out a small hoarse chuckle. Despite the obvious pain, a carnivorous smile slowly stretches his lips.

“You dare push me away, little thing?” he murmurs, his voice deep and hoarse. Yet his arms loosen slightly around you, giving you just enough space to move.

You take advantage of this opening to pick up the clean cloths again. Your fingers are still trembling a little as you apply the care to the large gash on his shoulder, then to the one on his flank. Sukuna doesn’t take his eyes off you, his two lower arms remaining placed on your hips, wanting you close to him even in his weakness.

The flesh closes slowly, but the bleeding persists in places, staining your hands and the silk sheets. Sukuna remains still, his four arms placed around you, two of them absently caressing your back.

You feel his breathing become more regular, his strength returning little by little. His cursed regeneration does its work, even if the wounds remain impressive.

A few minutes pass in tense silence, broken only by the sound of the cloths and his hoarse breathing. You are focused on your task, carefully cleaning the deepest wound on his chest, when suddenly one of his upper hands slides over your waist, while another caresses your hip. His body now gives off a more vivid heat, a sign that he is recovering quickly.

“Enough,” he growls in a stronger, almost impatient voice. His four eyes shine with more intensity. “Come here. I want you now. You missed me on that battlefield, my favorite.”

You shake your head, refusing to let go of the cloth. “No. You’re still injured. Let me finish, Sukuna. It’s important.”

A low and dangerous laugh resonates in his chest. He grabs your hips with two of his arms, trying to pull you onto him despite your protests. The mouth on his stomach opens slightly, letting out a hot breath against your belly.

“Do you really think a few scratches will stop me?” he says, his voice harder this time, tinged with irritation from the persistent pain. “You’re just a concubine I tolerate by my side, nothing more. Stop playing healer and obey.”

The words hit you like a blade. Your heart clenches violently. You freeze, hands suspended above his wound. Your eyes mist over despite yourself. You know he is cruel by nature, but hearing him say it so coldly, after everything you do for him… it hurts.

Sukuna immediately notices the change on your face. His expression darkens. A heavy silence settles.

“…Wait,” he finally murmurs, his voice lower. He gently holds you back when you try to pull away. His four arms surround you with more care. “I shouldn’t have said that. The pain makes me… irritable. You’re not just a simple concubine. You are the only one I tolerate near me. The only one I can’t do without. Forgive me. Please? My pretty girl.”

You smile internally. Seeing Sukuna, the most feared king, begging you to forgive him is exceptional. You remain silent for a moment to make him believe it, then in a surge of frustration, you press the cloth firmly against his deepest wound on his flank. That’ll teach him. You press just enough to remind him of the pain but without aggravating the injury.

Sukuna startles slightly, a hoarse growl escaping his throat. Then, against all expectations, he bursts into a deep, sincere laugh that vibrates through his entire massive body. The mouth on his stomach laughs too, a strange and guttural sound.

“Ah… there’s my favorite with the strong character,” he says between two laughs, his eyes shining with amusement and a darker glint. “You dare wound the King of Curses? What audacity.”

Before you can react, his four arms move with surprising speed despite his injuries. After all, he remains the strongest. He suddenly pins you under him on the platform, his massive body completely towering over you.

His dark tattoos contrast with your skin, his four eyes staring at you with a mix of possessiveness, desire, and brutal tenderness.

You are trapped beneath him, his two upper arms holding your wrists above your head, while his lower arms slide over your hips and thighs, holding you firmly in place. His face is very close to yours, his hot breath against your lips.

“You are mine,” he murmurs in a hoarse voice. “And I am yours, whether you want it or not. Now… let me show you how much better I am thanks to you.”

Without giving you time to answer, Sukuna lowers his head and kisses you again. This time, the kiss is deeper, more voracious. His lips capture yours with obvious hunger, his tongue sliding against yours in a possessive movement that takes your breath away.

You feel the heat of his massive body weighing on you, his wounds still sensitive but ignored by his recovered strength. The mouth on his stomach parts against your abdomen, letting out a burning breath that passes through the thin fabric of your nightgown.

One of his upper hands remains on your wrists, while the other slowly descends along your arm, brushing your skin. His two lower arms, meanwhile, explore freely.

One slides under your dress, caressing your bare thigh, moving up gradually. The other hand settles directly on your chest, enveloping one of your breasts. His fingers gently pinch your nipple through the fabric, making it harden instantly.

You can’t hold back a muffled moan against his mouth. “Sukuna…”

That sound seems to encourage him. His kiss becomes more intense, leaving you little air, while his hand on your breast slowly kneads it, massaging with controlled strength.

Your body arches instinctively beneath him, seeking more contact despite the voice in your head still reminding you of his injuries.

“You’re already moaning so well for me,” he growls against your lips, his voice hoarse with desire. “My little favorite… is so sensitive because of me.”

His two lower arms continue their exploration. One of them moves up to your other breast, caressing it with the same avid attention. He presses, kneads, his thumbs circling your now hardened nipples, sending waves of pleasure directly between your legs.

You moan louder, head slightly thrown back, eyes half-closed. Your breathing becomes irregular, interrupted by soft little cries each time he pinches a little harder.

Sukuna pulls slightly away from your mouth, just enough to observe your face flushed with pleasure. His four eyes shine with a satisfied and hungry glint. The mouth on his stomach slowly licks your skin through the fabric, wanting to taste every part of you.

In one fluid and impatient movement, he releases your wrists and easily tears the top of your dress, exposing your bare chest to the cool air of the room. An appreciative growl vibrates in his throat.

“Much better like this,” he murmurs.

His hands immediately return to your bare breasts. The feeling of his warm, rough skin against your sensitive flesh makes you moan louder.

He kneads them greedily, pressing them together, his thumbs and index fingers playing with your hardened nipples. Each caress sends jolts of pleasure through your entire body. Your hips move unconsciously against him, seeking relief.

“Sukuna… ugh more please.” Your moan is longer this time, almost pleading.

He lowers his head, capturing one of your breasts between his lips. His warm tongue circles the nipple, sucking it slowly before nibbling just enough to make you jump with pleasure.

Meanwhile, his hands continue to explore: one stays on your free breast, kneading it firmly, while the other slides lower, pulling on the rest of your dress to slide it down your hips. He throws the dress aside.

You are now almost completely naked beneath him, wearing only your panties. Sukuna raises his head, observing your exposed body with satisfaction.

“Perfect,” he breathes against your skin, before kissing you again, more slowly this time, while continuing to slide his hands over your bare curves.

His lips leave yours to descend along your neck, gently nibbling your sensitive skin. One of his upper hands remains on your breast, kneading it firmly, while the other slides lower, between your thighs. His fingers brush your intimacy through the thin fabric of your panties, already feeling the heat and wetness accumulating there.

“Just for me, isn’t it?” he murmurs in a hoarse and possessive voice against your ear, his four eyes shining with desire. You shiver beneath him, breathing short. “Yes…” you reply in a trembling sigh. “Just for you.”

A satisfied growl vibrates in his chest. His fingers finally push the fabric aside and slide directly over your hot and wet flesh. He slowly caresses your intimacy, tracing circles around your clit before plunging a thick finger into you. You moan louder, back arched, hips moving instinctively against his hand.

“So wet already…” he growls with a carnivorous smile. His two lower arms hold your thighs spread while his upper hands continue to knead your breasts, pinching your sensitive nipples. The mouth on his stomach slowly licks your belly, descending progressively lower, leaving a trail of wet heat on your skin.

You pant, lost in the sensations. Your hands slide over his massive chest, following the black tattoos, carefully avoiding his still sensitive wounds. Sukuna intensifies his caresses: he pushes a second finger into you, curling them to touch that precise spot that makes you see stars.

“Sukuna… ah… yes ugh… it feels so good! There!”

Suddenly, he withdraws his fingers from your intimacy, leaving you empty and frustrated. You moan in protest, hips desperately seeking his contact.

Sukuna laughs softly, a deep and amused laugh that resonates in his chest. His four eyes contemplate you with a mischievous and dominant glint.

“Not so fast,” he murmurs. “You dared push me away earlier to treat me… now I’m going to make you wait a little.”

He pins your wrists above your head again with one hand, completely immobilizing your upper body. His other two hands explore your body with deliberate and torturous slowness:

He caresses the inside of your thighs, brushes your swollen clit without ever really pressing, pinches your nipples just enough to make you moan, but never enough to fully satisfy you.

The mouth on his stomach descends lower, licking the inside of your thigh, very close to your intimacy, its hot breath making you shiver, but never touching you directly where you need it most.

Every time you try to move for more, he pulls back slightly, keeping you on the edge of pleasure without letting you fall.

“Sukuna… please…” you beg in a frustrated moan, your body trembling with unfulfilled desire.

“No, no,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice deep and amused. He slides two fingers along your slit, barely entering you before pulling out, repeating this slow and superficial movement again and again. “I want to hear you beg louder. I want you to yearn until you can’t think of anything but me.”

His hands on your breasts gradually slow down. He almost completely releases them, leaving only his thumbs brushing your swollen nipples from time to time, just enough to keep you in a state of burning frustration.

His two lower arms remain focused between your thighs: his fingers slowly caress your wet lips, spread your folds, brush your swollen clit with unbearable lightness. Each pass is too soft, too brief. Your body trembles, your hips lifting desperately to seek more pressure, but he pulls back each time with a low chuckle.

The mouth on his stomach lazily licks the inside of your thighs, leaving wet and warm traces very close to your intimacy, but never touching it. His burning breath makes you shiver violently.

“Sukuna… I beg you…” you moan, voice broken, body covered in a thin layer of sweat. “I need… I need more… please…”

He doesn’t answer you, too busy with his torment for long minutes, alternating between his fingers barely penetrating you and the tongue on his stomach brushing you without ever relieving you. Your moans turn into small sobs of frustration, your numb wrists still held above your head by his powerful arms.

Sukuna finally brings his face close to yours, his four eyes shining with cruel and amused desire. “If you really want to come, little favorite…” he murmurs in a hoarse and authoritative voice, “then you’re going to have to ride my tongue. The one on my stomach. Sit on it and rub yourself like the desperate little thing you are.”

Your cheeks burn with shame and excitement. You hesitate for a moment, but the need is too strong. When he slightly releases your wrists, you sit up. Sukuna lies completely on his back, his injuries almost forgotten, his massive body exposed. You settle above him, knees on either side of his torso. As you slowly descend, you immediately feel the heat of the mouth on his stomach against your soaked intimacy.

As you position yourself, your ass and pussy brush against something hard, hot, and thick. You clearly feel his two thick and long cocks, erect against your back. A shiver runs through you as you realize how aroused he is.

Sukuna smiles widely, a carnivorous and satisfied smile that reveals his sharp teeth. His four eyes contemplate you with a possessive and amused glint.

“You feel them, don’t you?” he growls, voice thick with desire. “My two cocks waiting only for you. But first you’re going to use my tongue. Go on. Rub yourself. Show me how much you need me.”

The mouth on his stomach opens wider, its thick warm tongue immediately sliding against your slit, licking slowly from bottom to top with diabolical precision. You can’t hold back a long hoarse moan as you begin to slowly move your hips against it.

You settle more comfortably above him, your hands resting on his chest while carefully avoiding his still sensitive wounds. You begin to rub against the hot and wet tongue, rolling your hips back and forth in a hesitant rhythm at first, then more and more pronounced.

Each stroke of the tongue makes you shiver. It is thick, rough in places, and slides perfectly between your soaked lips, caressing your clit with every movement. Your breasts move with the rhythm of your hips, and your moans become louder, more uncontrollable.

Sukuna watches you from below, his four eyes shining with satisfaction and raw desire. His two lower arms come to rest on your hips, gripping them firmly to guide you.

“You really are a desperate little thing to cum,” he growls in a hoarse and mocking voice, a carnivorous smile on his lips. “Look at you… rubbing yourself like a slut on your king’s tongue.”

His hands guide your movements, making you press down harder against his mouth. He makes you roll your hips in circles, forcing you to press your swollen clit against his tongue which now moves faster, licking and sucking your intimacy with voracity. The sensation is intense, wet, burning. You pant, nails lightly digging into his chest.

Encouraged by the pleasure consuming you, you slide one of your hands behind you. Your hands still find one of his two cocks through the stretched fabric. You clearly feel his first dick, enormous and hard, throbbing under the thick fabric. You begin to caress it through the clothing, pressing your palm and sliding your hand up and down its impressive length.

Sukuna lets out a hoarse growl, almost a guttural moan. His massive body twitches beneath you, and his four eyes narrow in pleasure. “Haaa ugh- you’re too insolent today…” he growls, his voice rougher.

To get revenge, he lifts you above his tongue and penetrates you with it in one thrust, sinking deep into your intimacy. You cry out in pleasure, back arched, as it begins to move inside you, turning, pulling out, plunging back in with force. The rhythm is merciless, as if he wants to punish you for daring to touch him even through the fabric.

“Mhh! Sukuna…! Please..-” you moan, voice broken. Your hips move faster on their own, riding his tongue desperately. Your hand behind you continues to caress his first cock through the hakama, squeezing harder, moving up and down its entire length.

Sukuna growls with pleasure, his hips lifting slightly. His tongue fucks you relentlessly, entering and exiting, licking your inner walls, finding that sensitive spot that makes you tremble violently. His hands on your hips continue to guide you, making you press down harder, faster, forcing you to take everything he gives you.

“That’s it…” he breathes between two growls, voice thick with desire. “I fill you so well with my tongue. You’re so wet it’s dripping onto my stomach. You needed this so badly?”

You moan in response. Your thighs tremble, you lean a little forward. You remove your hand from his cock and place both hands on his chest to keep your balance. The tongue continues its deep and rhythmic assault, taking you higher and higher. The wet and obscene sound of his tongue entering and exiting your soaked pussy fills the room, making you moan even louder.

“Sukuna… ugh- I… I’m gonna…” Your hips move frantically now, riding his tongue without restraint. Each deep penetration makes the liquid of your arousal slap against his stomach. The thick tongue turns inside you, presses hard against that sensitive spot, licks your inner walls with almost brutal greed.

Sukuna growls with satisfaction as he feels your contractions around his tongue. His two lower arms squeeze your hips tighter, holding you pressed against him so you can’t escape.

“That’s it, my little slut…” he growls in a hoarse and dirty voice. “Cum on my tongue. Flood me like the desperate little concubine you are. Show your king how much you get wet for him.”

You cry out, the pleasure becoming too intense. Your nails dig into his tattooed chest, your thighs clenching around him.

The orgasm hits you violently, like a burning wave. Your body arches brutally, your pussy contracting spasmodically around his tongue which continues to fuck you mercilessly throughout your pleasure.

“Sukuna!” you scream, voice broken.

At the same time, Sukuna sits up slightly, one of his upper arms sliding behind your neck to pull you toward him. He captures your mouth in a voracious kiss, devouring your cries of ecstasy. His tongue invades your mouth at the same rhythm that the one on his stomach continues to penetrate you, as if he wants to fill you from both sides at once.

The kiss is dirty, wet, and possessive. He swallows each of your moans while you tremble and cum for a long time, your body shaken by spasms. His kiss muffles your complaints, his tongue turning against yours, nibbling your lower lip.

“There… good girl,” he murmurs against your mouth between two kisses, his voice low and hoarse. “Cum hard for me. Your little pussy squeezes my tongue like it never wants to let it go. You’re so greedy… even when I’m injured, you can’t help but get fucked by your king.”

You continue to tremble, the orgasm seeming to last forever. Your hands remain pressed on his massive chest, feeling the powerful beats of his heart under your palms.

The tongue on his stomach gradually slows down, gently licking your sensitive walls to prolong your pleasure, collecting every drop of your arousal.

Sukuna doesn’t break the kiss right away. He continues to kiss you deeply, almost tenderly this time, while holding you against him. When your trembling finally subsides, he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his four red eyes shining with satisfaction and a desire still far from satiated.

“You came so hard…” he breathes against your lips, a carnivorous smile on his lips. “But we’re far from finished, my beautiful.”

Sukuna kisses you again with intensity, swallowing every little cry and every ragged breath. When he finally pulls away slightly, a string of saliva still connects your lips. His four eyes stare at you with dark and burning satisfaction.

“Look at you…” he murmurs in a hoarse and dirty voice, while slowly licking your lower lip. “You just came like never before on your king’s tongue. You flooded my entire stomach. What a dirty little concubine you are.”

You don’t answer, body still sensitive, cheeks burning. Sukuna gives you no rest. His two lower arms firmly grip your hips and lift you just enough to withdraw his tongue from your intimacy. A wet and obscene sound echoes as it slides out of you, leaving you empty and throbbing.

He lays you back on his chest, but this time he sits up a little more, leaning against the cushions despite his injuries. His massive body still dominates you. In one fluid movement, he uses his upper arms to turn you slightly, placing you lower on his abdomen, right above his hakama stretched to the extreme by his two erections.

“Sukuna…” you breathe, still breathless.

“Shh,” he growls, nibbling your neck. “You don’t think I’m done with you, do you?”

His hands explore your naked body with greed. One kneads your breast, pinching your still sensitive nipple, while the other slides between your thighs to slowly caress your swollen and soaked lips. He spreads your arousal all over your slit, making you shiver.

“You’re soaked… ready to take my dick.” His voice is low, dangerous. “But first, I want you to feel how hard I am for you.”

He presses you more firmly against him. Through the stretched fabric of his hakama, you clearly feel his two thick and burning cocks. They throb against your ass and intimacy, enormous, hard as stone.

You can’t help but moan as you rub lightly against them. Sukuna laughs lowly, amused and excited. He grabs your hips and makes you move slowly against him, sliding you back and forth over his two erections still trapped under the fabric.

“You feel them?” he murmurs against your ear, nibbling the lobe. “Two big cocks waiting only to fill you. You are the only one who has the right to take them. The only one I want to fuck until you cry with pleasure.”

Your hands remain placed on his chest, seeking support as he guides you faster. The friction of the fabric against your sensitive clit makes you pant. Sukuna continues to speak, his voice becoming rougher and rougher:

“You are mine. My favorite. My personal little slut. Even when I come back from the battlefield covered in blood, it’s you I want to destroy and rebuild with my fucking dicks. Say it. Say you want me to fuck you.”

“I… I want you to fuck me, Sukuna… please my king.” you moan, voice trembling.

Satisfied, he growls and, with an impatient gesture, uses two of his arms to lower his hakama enough. His two thick cocks finally spring out, heavy, veined and glistening with precum.

The one underneath, slightly smaller than the first, rubs directly against your slit, while the first presses against your clit and belly.

He doesn’t penetrate you right away. He makes you wait a little longer, slowly rubbing his two members against you, sliding them between your soaked lips without entering.

“Look how wet you are for this,” he breathes while looking into your eyes. “You were made for me. To take everything I give you.”

Finally, he aligns his first cock against your entrance. With a slow but firm thrust of his hips, he begins to sink into you. The thickness is impressive. You moan at length, nails digging into his shoulders, as he stretches you progressively, inch by inch, until he is deeply buried inside you.

“Fuck so tight…” he growls, teeth clenched in pleasure. He remains still for a moment, savoring the sensation, then begins to move. Slow and deep thrusts at first, then more and more powerful. His second cock rubs perfectly against your clit with every movement, adding intense stimulation.

His four arms completely surround you: two on your hips to guide you, one on your neck to kiss you, and the last caressing your breast. He kisses you again, devouring your moans while he fucks you with an increasingly sustained rhythm.

“Take it all,” he murmurs against your mouth between two kisses. “Take your king’s cock like the good little concubine you are for me. I’m going to fill you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

You pant against his lips, body completely overwhelmed. Each deep thrust drives his massive first cock to the very bottom of you. You feel it so thick, so long, that it directly touches the cervix of your uterus with every push.

The pressure is intense, almost too much, a mix of burning pleasure and a delicious slight pain that makes you tremble. Your belly swells slightly every time he sinks completely, as if your body is struggling to accept him entirely.

Every movement creates a perfect friction that sends electric shocks through your entire body.

“Sukuna… ahh… it’s too deep…” you moan, voice broken. He laughs lowly, a hoarse and satisfied sound, while accelerating the rhythm.

His hips slap against yours with more force. Your intimacy contracts violently around him, squeezing his veined length as if it refuses to let him go.

“You feel that?” he growls against your ear, nibbling your skin. “My big cock hitting the bottom of your belly. I’m touching your little uterus.”

His crude words make you moan louder. Your hands tremble on his chest, nails digging into his tattooed skin. The heat of his massive body, the smell of blood, sweat and sex, everything overwhelms you.

Sukuna slightly changes the angle of his hips, and suddenly every thrust hits that sensitive spot inside you even better. You cry out, body shaking. Your thighs tremble around him, your arousal flowing abundantly along his cock.

He fucks you harder, faster, using his four arms to hold you exactly how he wants. One of his upper arms slides between your bodies to pinch your clit between two fingers, rubbing it at the same time as his second cock stimulates it.

The pleasure rises quickly, almost unbearable. You feel your second orgasm approaching like a gigantic wave. “Sukuna… I… I’m going to cum…!” you sob, tears beginning to pearl at the corners of your eyes.

“Cum,” he orders in a hoarse and authoritative voice. “Cum on my cock like the good little favorite you are. Let me feel your pussy squeezing me.”

You cum.

The orgasm hits you with incredible violence. Your body arches violently, head thrown back. Your inner walls contract spasmodically around his thick cock, squeezing and pulsing as if you want to milk him.

Tears flow down your cheeks, a mix of overwhelming pleasure and raw emotion. Your hands desperately cling to his chest while you scream his name.

“Sukuna…! I love you…!” you sob between two spasms, voice broken by pleasure and tears. “I love you… mhh- I love you so much…”

These words seem to strike him. Sukuna groans deeply, his massive body twitching beneath you. His four eyes widen slightly, then darken with an intense emotion he almost never shows.

He holds you tighter against him, his arms enveloping you while he continues to penetrate you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure until you are completely exhausted and limp against his chest.

“…Idiot,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice hoarse but strangely soft. He kisses your forehead, your temples, wiping your tears with one of his thumbs. “You cry while telling me that… You really are my only weakness.”

You remain nestled against his massive chest, body still shaken by light spasms, when Sukuna decides he is not done with you. In one fluid and powerful movement, he rolls you onto your back without fully pulling out of you.

He positions himself above you, placing you in missionary. His imposing body completely dominates you, his four arms resting on either side of your head and on your hips.

You are already hypersensitive after your intense orgasm. Your intimacy is still pulsing around his cock, swollen and ultra-sensitive. As soon as he moves slightly, a high-pitched moan escapes you.

“Sukuna… wait… I’m too sensitive…” you breathe in a trembling voice.

But he doesn’t listen. On the contrary, a carnivorous smile stretches his lips as he adjusts his position. He passes your legs over his hips, opening you completely to him, and sinks in with one deep thrust to the bottom.

“You’re going to take more,” he growls, voice thick with desire. “I want to feel you cum around me one more time. I want to get you pregnant.”

He begins to fuck you with passion, long, powerful and measured thrusts. Each push makes his hips slap against yours. His massive cock touches your cervix again, even more intense in this position. The sensation is overwhelming — you are overstimulated, every friction makes you jolt, tremble, and cry with pleasure.

“Ahh! Sukuna… it’s too much… too deep!” you sob, hands gripping his shoulders.

Your inner walls, hypersensitive, contract violently around him with every movement. Every time he sinks completely, an electric shock runs through your belly. Your clit rubs against the base of his second cock with every thrust, adding unbearable stimulation.

Sukuna looks you straight in the eyes, his four red eyes burning with a rare emotion. He lowers his head and kisses you deeply, swallowing your moans and your cries while continuing to pound you with passion.

His hips roll with force, but there is something different this time: it is no longer just raw desire, it is possessive, almost desperate.

“Look how you squeeze me…” he murmurs against your mouth between two kisses. “Even after cumming, your little pussy wants more. You were made for me.”

Your tears flow nonstop down your cheeks. The pleasure is so intense it almost becomes painful, but you don’t want him to stop. Your legs tremble around his hips, your nails scratch his tattooed back.

Sukuna gradually accelerates, his thrusts becoming deeper, faster. The room is filled with the wet sound of your bodies slapping, your high-pitched moans and his hoarse growls.

He slides one of his hands on your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb while continuing to fuck you passionately.

“Listen to me,” he breathes against your lips, voice low and hoarse. “I love you.”

These words, spoken by the King of Curses, make you open your eyes wide despite the tears.

“I love you, little idiot,” he repeats louder, burying his cock to the bottom with every word. “You are the only one I love. The only one who can make me feel this. The only one I will never destroy.”

His words make you tip over. Your third orgasm hits you brutally, even more violent than the previous ones. You scream his name, body arched beneath him, your pussy contracting so hard around his cock that Sukuna groans at length, teeth clenched.

He holds you against him, his four arms completely enveloping you while he continues to pound you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure until you are completely exhausted, sobbing and trembling beneath him.

“I love you my king…” you murmur weakly between two sobs, completely overwhelmed by emotion and pleasure.

He kisses you tenderly on the forehead, then on the lips, finally slowing his movements to let you breathe. His massive body remains pressed against yours, his cock still deeply buried inside you, throbbing.

“I know,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice softer than it has ever been. “And I will never let you go. You are mine. Forever.”

His movements become more erratic, deeper. You feel his dick swell even more inside you, throbbing violently against the hypersensitive walls of your intimacy. Every thrust makes your whole body tremble.

Sukuna buries his face in your neck, his teeth brushing your skin while his hips slap harder against yours. His growls become rougher, more animal.

“I’m going to cum…” he growls against your ear, voice broken with pleasure. “I’m going to fill you to the bottom, my darling…”

You can only moan weakly, completely overwhelmed. Your hands slide over his back, clinging to him as if your life depends on it. You feel the pressure rising in him, his muscles tensing under your fingers.

With one final powerful and deep thrust, Sukuna sinks all the way in, the head of his cock pressed directly against your cervix. He cums in a long and guttural groan that vibrates through his entire chest.

You feel the hot and abundant jets of his cum pouring into you, thick, burning, filling your belly with powerful pulses. There is so much that you feel completely flooded.

His second member also throbs against your clit, spreading its hot seed over your belly and chest in long jets.

Sukuna continues to move slowly while he cums, as if to push his seed as deep as possible inside you. His four arms hold you firmly against him, keeping you prisoner under his massive body while he empties himself completely.

When he finally finishes, he remains buried inside you, his cock still throbbing, refusing to pull out. He collapses slightly on you, careful not to crush you completely with his weight. The mouth on his stomach gently licks your skin, tasting the sweat and traces of seed on your belly.

You stay like this for a long moment, only the sound of your panting breaths filling the room. Sukuna finally raises his head and looks at you. His four red eyes are softer, almost vulnerable.

He wipes your remaining tears with his thumb, then kisses you slowly, tenderly, a kiss very different from the previous ones: deep, languorous, filled with an emotion he only shows to you.

“You are mine,” he murmurs against your lips. “Not just my concubine. Not just my favorite. You are the one I love. The only one who can make me say such ridiculous things.”

You smile weakly, still trembling, exhausted but happy. Your hands gently caress his chest, avoiding his wounds which have almost finished closing.

Sukuna rolls onto his side without pulling out of you, pulling you with him so you end up lying on his chest. His four arms envelop you like a warm and protective cage. The mouth on his stomach lets out a hot and satisfied breath against your belly.

He slowly caresses your hair with one of his upper hands, his other arms holding you against him. The silence is peaceful, disturbed only by your breathing which gradually slows down.

After a long moment, he murmurs in a deep and serious voice:

“Marry me.”

You raise your head slightly, surprised. His four red eyes stare at you with a rare, almost solemn intensity.

“I want you to become my queen, not just my favorite. I will kill the other concubines. They serve no purpose. They are just useless objects. Only you matter. I will have them executed tomorrow morning.”

Your heart clenches. Despite the fatigue and the warmth of the moment, you gently shake your head. “No, Sukuna… please. Don’t kill them. They have done nothing wrong. They are just… there. I don’t want their blood to be shed because of me. Let them live. Send them far away if you want, but don’t kill them.”

He frowns, visibly displeased. The mouth on his stomach growls slightly.

“You are too soft,” he growls. “That’s why I love you.” He sighs, then finally nods reluctantly. “Very well. I will banish them from the palace tomorrow. But only you will remain by my side. Forever.”

You smile weakly and snuggle tighter against him, placing a kiss on his chest.

“Thank you… my king.”

Nine months later.

Spring bathed the palace in golden light. The cherry trees in the private garden that Sukuna had enlarged for you were in full bloom.

In the royal chamber, you were lying on the platform, exhausted but radiant, holding a small sleeping treasure against you.

Your daughter.

She was tiny, with a tuft of silky black hair, and two small red eyes that sometimes opened to observe the world with curiosity. Two tiny black marks, similar to very small tattoos, adorned her little arms. She had inherited her father’s strength, but also your gentleness.

Sukuna was sitting by your side, in his true form. Two of his arms held you against him, while another delicately supported your daughter’s head. For the first time in his long existence, the King of Curses seemed almost… peaceful.

“She is perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and awed. He brushed the little hand that had closed around one of his fingers. “She will probably be stronger than me. And as beautiful as you.”

You laugh softly, tired but happy.

“She will have your character… and I hope a little of my patience.” Sukuna leaned down and kissed your forehead with infinite tenderness, then placed a very soft kiss on your daughter’s forehead.

“I never thought this would happen to me one day,” he confessed. “Loving someone. Having a family. But you… you changed everything.”

You snuggle against him, your daughter nestled between the two of you. “We are a family now, Sukuna. You, me, and her.”

He tightened his arms around you, protective, possessive, but above all loving.

Outside, the world continued to fear the King of Curses. But here, in this room filled with light and cherry blossom petals entering through the window, he was no longer just a man. A husband. A father. He had finally found something more precious than power.

“I love you,” he murmured against your hair. “I love you too,” you replied smiling, eyes shining with happiness.

Your daughter let out a small sleepy sigh, as if she approved. And for the first time in centuries, the King finally felt complete.

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Your breath catches sharply in your throat. Panic explodes in your chest, tight and suffocating. Your hands fly up to press against your sternum, feeling the frantic thud of a heart that isn’t supposed to be yours. Cold sweat prickles along your hairline and down your back. The room feels smaller, the air thicker. If I don’t change this right now, he will kill me. I have to win him over — the man I’ve been completely obsessed with — before he decides I’m still that same woman who deserves to die.

The heavy wooden door creaks open. Two maids slip inside, heads bowed low, shoulders hunched like they’re expecting the worst. They carry a tray between them with a pitcher of steaming water, neatly folded linens, and a small bowl of scented oil. Their footsteps are quick but nearly silent on the cold stone floor, as if they’re trying to disturb you as little as possible.

“My Lady,” the older maid says quietly, almost whispering as she carefully sets the tray down on the side table. “We’re here to help you dress. Your usual silks today?”

You swallow and keep your voice soft. “No, not the silks. Something simpler and warmer, please. I’m going down to have breakfast with the Duke in the dining hall.”

The younger maid’s eyes go wide. She almost drops the pitcher, water sloshing dangerously over the rim and dripping onto the floor. “Breakfast… with His Grace?” she blurts, voice cracking with surprise. “In the dining hall?”

The older maid quickly elbows her and forces a nervous smile, though her hands are visibly shaking. “Are you sure, My Lady? He always eats alone. He might not… like it if you show up.”

You nod, sliding your legs over the side of the bed. The stone floor is icy against your bare feet, sending a shiver up your legs. “I’m sure. Please help me get ready.” You pause, then add gently, “And thank you. Both of you.”

The maids go completely still. The younger one stares at you with her mouth slightly open, pitcher forgotten in her hands. The older one blinks rapidly, her hands freezing mid-air above the tray. They exchange a wide-eyed, startled glance, the kind that speaks volumes without a single word. The silence stretches for a long, awkward moment, thick with confusion and unease.

Finally, the older maid clears her throat. “Of course, My Lady. Right away.”

They hesitate for another heartbeat, still stealing uncertain glances at you, before hurrying into motion. Their hands are a little clumsier than usual as they help you out of the nightgown and into a heavy charcoal gown with long sleeves. The soft wool feels warm and comforting against the chill in the air. While they brush out your hair and pin it up in a simple style, they keep darting quick, nervous looks at your reflection in the mirror. The younger maid’s fingers tremble slightly as she works, and the older one’s breathing is a touch too shallow.

They finish dressing you in tense, heavy silence. Once they step back, you thank them again. They both bow deeply, still visibly unsettled, and you step out into the torch-lit corridor. Servants you pass press themselves flat against the walls, whispering frantically the moment your back is turned. Your heart hammers louder with every step toward the grand dining hall.

The massive double doors swing open with a low creak.

There he is.

Duke Ryomen Sukuna sits alone at the head of the long oak table. Pale morning light filters through the tall windows, casting sharp shadows across his face. Loose strands of pink hair have escaped their tie and fall across his forehead. His dark tunic stretches tight over broad, powerfully muscled shoulders, the collar open just enough to reveal the edges of intricate black tattoos that swirl across his collarbones and down his arms. Crimson eyes are narrowed in concentration as he cuts into a thick slab of meat with slow, deliberate strokes of his knife. Old scars mark the visible skin of his neck and the backs of his large, calloused hands. He radiates raw, quiet danger — the kind that makes the air feel heavier. This is the man you’ve spent months fantasizing about, the one whose every appearance in the manhwa made your pulse race.

You walk straight to the chair on his right — the seat that has stayed empty for the entire six months of your marriage — and sit down.

His knife stops mid-cut.

The silence is immediate and suffocating, broken only by the soft crackle of the hearth fire.

Sukuna’s crimson gaze lifts slowly. It locks onto you with raw disbelief and burning disgust. His jaw clenches, the scar along his cheek tightening. For a long moment he simply stares, like he’s trying to decide whether you’re real or some new form of insult.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice is low and rough, laced with irritation.

You swallow hard, hands trembling under the table. You force a small, nervous smile and say softly, “Good morning, husband. I thought it might be nice to have breakfast together for once.”

The words hang in the air.

Sukuna’s expression darkens. He sets the knife down with a sharp clink that echoes through the hall. Slowly he rises to his full height, towering over you — tall, broad-chested, every inch the warlord who has killed without hesitation. The look he gives you is ice-cold.

“You thought it would be nice?” His voice is low, cold, and dripping with contempt. “Six fucking months you couldn’t even be bothered to speak to me… and now you suddenly decide to play house?”

He pushes the chair back with a harsh scrape and rises to his full height, towering over you. His large hand clenches so tightly around the back of the chair that the wood groans in protest.

“Just looking at you ruins my appetite.”

Without another word, he turns sharply on his heel. His cloak snaps behind him like a whip as he stalks out of the hall. The heavy doors slam shut with a deafening boom that echoes through the room and makes the silverware rattle on the table.

You’re left completely alone at the long table, staring at his abandoned plate as the food rapidly cools. Your heart pounds violently in your chest.

This is going to be so much harder than I thought.

But you don’t run. You pick up your fork with still-shaking fingers, take a small bite of the now-lukewarm food, and force yourself to swallow. A heavy, determined weight settles in your stomach alongside the food.

The rest of the morning dragged by in a haze of nervous energy. You moved carefully through the castle, speaking softly to the servants, thanking them for small things, and trying not to overwhelm anyone with your sudden change in behavior. Every time someone flinched or stared too long, your stomach twisted. You knew they were waiting for the old you to snap back into place.

By mid-afternoon the light outside had shifted to a softer gold, and the castle felt a little less oppressive. You decided it was time to try something more direct.

You found one of the kitchen maids and asked her to prepare a simple tray — strong black tea, warm bread, and a few slices of roasted meat. These were the things you remembered him enjoying in the manhwa, the small details you’d clung to while reading late at night. Nothing too elaborate. When the tray was ready, you took it yourself, ignoring the wide-eyed, startled looks from the staff as you carried it down the long corridor toward Sukuna’s private study. Your heart beat faster with every step.

Your heart was hammering so hard it felt like it was trying to climb out of your throat. Two guards outside the heavy double doors stared at you in open confusion but didn’t stop you. You paused for a second, took a steadying breath, and knocked once.

A gruff “Come in” came from inside.

You pushed the door open and stepped into the study.

The room was exactly the kind of place you’d pictured him in — tall shelves lined with old books and rolled scrolls, a massive oak desk covered in maps and scattered letters, weapons mounted neatly on one wall. A fire burned low in the hearth, filling the air with the faint smell of smoke and polished leather. Sukuna sat behind the desk, quill in hand, pink hair tied back messily with a few loose strands falling forward. He didn’t look up right away, focused on whatever he was writing.

Then his crimson eyes flicked up.

The moment they landed on you holding the tray, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. His expression shifted from irritation to pure suspicion in a heartbeat.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, voice low and flat, like he was already tired of whatever game he thought you were playing.

You stepped further inside and carefully set the tray down on the edge of his desk, trying not to let your hands shake too obviously. “I noticed you didn’t eat anything at breakfast,” you said quietly. “So I brought some tea and a few things. It’s nothing fancy. I just thought… maybe you’d be hungry by now.”

Sukuna leaned back in his chair, studying you like you were a problem he couldn’t quite solve. The silence stretched out, thick and uncomfortable. He glanced at the tray, then back at your face.

“You brought me food,” he said slowly, almost like he was testing the words. “You suddenly show up with tea and bread like we’re… what? Friends now?”

He pushed his chair back and stood, circling around the desk with slow, deliberate steps until he was standing right in front of you. He was so tall you had to tilt your head back to look at him. Up close he was even more overwhelming — the heat radiating from his body, the faint scent of leather and steel and something darker, the way his broad shoulders seemed to fill the space between you.

You forced yourself to hold his gaze. “I know I’ve been terrible to you,” you said, voice soft but steady. “I don’t expect you to believe me right away. I just… I want to try and do better. That’s all.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened. He reached out and picked up one of the slices of bread, turning it over in his large hand as if checking it for poison. Then he dropped it back onto the tray with a quiet scoff.

“You want to try,” he repeated, the words laced with disbelief and a sharp edge of mockery. “How convenient. Tell me, wife — what exactly changed overnight? Did someone put you up to this?”

His hand suddenly came up, fingers gripping your chin firmly but not harshly, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. His touch was warm, rough from years of fighting, and the closeness made your pulse spike.

“Or are you just scared I’ll finally do what everyone’s been expecting me to do for months?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.

Your breath caught. Being this close to him — feeling the intensity rolling off him in waves — made fear and something far more complicated twist together in your stomach.

“I’m not here to scheme,” you whispered. “I just don’t want things to keep being like this.”

Sukuna stared at you for a long, heavy moment. His thumb brushed once over your jaw, almost absentmindedly, before he let go and stepped back.

“Get out,” he said, the words cold but quieter than you expected. “And take your pity tray with you.”

He didn’t move away any further. He stayed standing there, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you with dark, unreadable eyes — like he was waiting to see whether you would actually leave… or do something else.

You didn’t argue.

You simply picked up the tray with both hands, gave him a small nod, and left the study without another word. The heavy doors clicked shut behind you. The hallway felt longer than usual as you walked back toward your chambers, the tray growing heavier with every step.

Once inside your room, you set the tray down on a side table and closed the door. Then you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.

That went badly.

You let out a slow breath, rubbing your hands over your thighs. The memory of Sukuna’s cold stare and dismissive words kept replaying in your head. He hadn’t even touched the food. He’d barely listened.

Of course he didn’t. Months of silence doesn’t just disappear because I brought him tea.

You leaned back on your hands, looking up at the canopy above the bed. The situation felt heavier now. Fixing this relationship was going to be a lot harder than you’d hoped. He clearly still saw you as the same person who had ignored and schemed against him for half a year. And why wouldn’t he?

If you couldn’t turn this around, things were only going to get worse. You didn’t want to think about how the original story ended, but the possibility lingered in the back of your mind anyway.

You sat there for a while, the afternoon light slowly shifting across the room. Eventually you stood up, walked over to the window, and looked out at the grounds. Your mind kept turning over what to try next. Another small gesture? Giving him more space? Something else entirely?

It was going to take time. A lot of it. And patience you weren’t sure you had.

You sighed quietly and moved away from the window, already thinking about what you could do tomorrow.

The next morning arrived quietly.

You woke earlier than usual, the soft grey light filtering through the tall windows pulling you from a restless sleep. For a few minutes you lay there, staring at the velvet canopy above the bed, thinking about yesterday. The rejections still stung, but you refused to give up after just one bad day.

You got up, washed, and chose a simple but elegant deep-grey gown. After eating a light breakfast alone in your room, you decided on a different approach today. No trays, no forcing your way into his meals. Just quiet presence.

You made your way to the castle’s main library — a spacious, peaceful room lined with tall shelves of books and scrolls. You picked a thick volume on regional history from the shelves and settled into a comfortable chair near the window where the light was good. Not too close to his usual spot, but not hiding either.

About an hour later, the door opened.

Sukuna walked in, still wearing his cloak from whatever business he’d been handling outside. He stopped short when he saw you already there, book open in your lap.

For a brief second his expression flickered with surprise before settling back into that familiar guarded look.

“You’re here too now,” he said, voice flat as he moved toward the large table in the center of the room. He pulled out a chair and sat down, spreading some documents in front of him. “Is there anywhere in this castle that’s still mine?”

You closed your book slowly and looked up at him.

“I can leave if you want,” you offered calmly. “I just thought it might be nice to read in here. It’s quiet.”

Sukuna didn’t tell you to go. He leaned back in his chair and studied you for a moment, crimson eyes sharp and assessing.

“You’ve been talking quite a bit these past two days,” he said, tone dry. “More than I’m used to.”

You gave a small, honest shrug. “I know. I’m trying to change that.”

He tapped his fingers once against the table, watching you openly now. “Trying,” he echoed, like he was testing the word. “That’s what you keep saying. But I still don’t know why.”

You hesitated, then answered simply, “Because I don’t like how things have been between us. And I think we could be… better. If we tried.”

Sukuna let out a short, humorless breath and leaned back further, still studying you.

“Better,” he repeated. “That’s a bold claim.” He paused, then added quietly, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not interested in pretending.”

But he didn’t ask you to leave.

You stayed in the library for another hour, reading in silence while he worked across from you. He didn’t speak again, but every so often you caught him glancing in your direction — wary, confused, and just a little unsettled.

It wasn’t much.

But it also wasn’t outright rejection.

You stayed in the library for another hour, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of paper and the soft crackle of the fire. You kept your eyes mostly on your book, though you were barely absorbing the words. Every now and then you felt Sukuna’s gaze on you — heavy, searching, and still full of suspicion.

Eventually, he set his quill down with a quiet tap. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest as he looked at you directly.

“If you’re serious about wanting to fix things,” he said, voice low and even, “then maybe you should start by actually appearing publicly with me.”

You looked up from your book, surprised. He continued before you could respond.

“There’s a ball tomorrow night at the capital. I’m expected to attend.” He paused, studying your reaction. “Rumors have already reached half the empire that my wife hates me. It would be good to change the public perception a little. At least act like a fucking couple for once.”

The invitation — if it could even be called that — hung in the air. It wasn’t warm or romantic. It was a test, plain and simple.

You closed your book slowly and met his eyes. “I’ll go with you,” you said without hesitation. “If that’s what you want.”

Sukuna watched you for a long moment, as if waiting for you to take it back. When you didn’t, something unreadable flickered across his face.

“Good,” he said simply. Then he stood up, gathering some of his documents. “Be ready by evening tomorrow. Don’t make me wait.”

He headed toward the door, cloak shifting over his shoulders. Just before he left, he paused and glanced back at you one last time.

“And try not to embarrass me,” he added, though his tone was less biting than before. Almost… cautious.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet library once again.

You let out a long breath and leaned back in your chair, heart still racing. A public ball. Tomorrow. With Sukuna.

This was a big step — and a dangerous one. You’d have to be careful. Very careful.

But it was also an opportunity. A chance to stand beside him in front of everyone and start showing that you were different.

You stood up, clutching the book to your chest, a mix of nerves and quiet determination settling in your stomach.

Tomorrow it is.

The next day passed in a quiet blur of nerves and preparation.

You spent most of the afternoon trying not to overthink everything, but as evening approached, the anxiety crept in anyway. When the maids finally arrived to help you get ready, they moved around your room with careful, slightly confused energy — still adjusting to this gentler version of their mistress.

You chose a deep crimson gown made of rich, heavy silk that flowed elegantly to the floor. It had long, fitted sleeves and a modestly elegant neckline that showed just enough collarbone to feel refined rather than daring. The maids helped you into it, lacing the back with steady fingers while you stood in front of the large mirror. The fabric felt cool and luxurious against your skin, the color bringing out a quiet intensity you hadn’t expected.

They brushed your hair until it gleamed, working through every tangle with patient strokes. Most of it was pinned up into an elegant style with delicate silver pins, but they left a few soft strands loose to frame your face. One of the maids added a simple but beautiful necklace with a single dark gem that rested just below your collarbone, along with matching earrings. A touch of rose-tinted balm was applied to your lips, and a light dusting of powder to even your complexion.

You stared at your reflection the entire time, heart beating faster. This version of you looked every bit the refined duchess — poised, beautiful, and completely unlike the cold, silent woman the public had come to expect at Sukuna’s side.

“You look beautiful, My Lady,” the older maid said softly as she stepped back, a hint of genuine surprise in her voice.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly, smoothing your hands down the front of the gown. Inside, your stomach was in knots. This would be your first real public appearance with Sukuna. Everyone would be watching. Waiting for the usual tension or outright disdain they’d grown used to seeing between the Duke and his wife.

A firm knock sounded at the door.

“He’s ready for you, My Lady,” a servant called from the hallway.

You took one last steadying breath, thanked the maids again, and stepped out.

Sukuna was waiting in the main hall, dressed in formal black with subtle gold embroidery along the collar and cuffs. His pink hair was neatly tied back, and the sight of him in full formal attire made your chest tighten. He looked every bit the powerful duke — tall, imposing, and dangerously handsome.

His crimson eyes swept over you slowly, from head to toe. For a moment his expression was unreadable.

“You’re actually coming,” he said, voice low. It wasn’t quite a question.

“I said I would,” you replied simply.

He gave a short nod, then offered his arm. The gesture felt stiff, like he was still testing whether you’d take it or pull away at the last second.

You slipped your hand through his arm without hesitation. His muscles were tense beneath your fingers, but he didn’t pull away.

As you walked together toward the waiting carriage, he spoke again, keeping his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“People talk. A lot. If we’re going to do this, at least try to look like you don’t hate being next to me.”

You glanced up at him. “I don’t hate it.”

Sukuna didn’t respond, but his grip on your arm tightened just slightly — not painful, just… firmer. Like he was anchoring himself.

The carriage ride to the capital was quiet, the only sounds being the wheels on the road and the occasional shift of fabric. Sukuna sat across from you, watching the passing scenery with a distant expression. Every so often his gaze would drift back to you, as if he still couldn’t quite believe you were really there.

When the carriage finally slowed to a stop outside the grand hall, music and warm light spilled out into the night. You could already hear the murmur of voices and feel the weight of the eyes that would soon be on both of you.

Sukuna stepped out first, then offered his hand to help you down. His palm was warm and steady against yours.

“Ready?” he asked, voice gruff.

You nodded, slipping your hand back into the crook of his arm.

“Then let’s go act like a fucking couple.”

The grand hall glowed under hundreds of crystal chandeliers, casting warm golden light across marble floors and velvet-draped walls. Music from a full orchestra swelled through the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation, the clink of champagne glasses, and the rustle of silk and satin gowns. The scent of expensive perfumes, fresh flowers, and roasted meats from the banquet tables hung heavy in the room.

The moment you and Sukuna stepped through the tall arched entrance together, the entire atmosphere shifted.

Conversations faltered. Heads turned. A ripple of surprised murmurs spread through the crowd like a wave.

You felt every eye on you. Some were curious, some shocked, many openly calculating. The Duke and Duchess of the North rarely appeared together in public — and when they had in the past, it had always been marked by cold distance and icy silence.

Tonight was different.

Sukuna’s arm was solid beneath your fingers as he guided you forward. His posture was straight and commanding, every inch the powerful Duke Sukuna the empire feared and respected. You stayed close, your hand resting lightly but deliberately on his arm, chin lifted with quiet confidence.

A portly lord with a heavy gold chain and an embroidered waistcoat approached first, bowing deeply.

“Your Grace, Duke Sukuna,” he said smoothly, then turned to you with a slightly wider smile. “And Duchess… what an unexpected pleasure to see you both together this evening.”

Sukuna gave a curt nod. “My wife wished to attend. I saw no reason to refuse her.”

The lord’s eyebrows rose, but he recovered quickly. “How wonderful. The two of you make quite the striking pair tonight. The Duke and Duchess of the North, united at last.”

You offered a polite, gentle smile. “Thank you, my lord. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

Sukuna’s arm tensed slightly under your hand, but he didn’t pull away. As the lord moved on, more nobles drifted closer, drawn by the unusual sight. You heard the whispers clearly now.

“...the Duke and Duchess actually look civil…”

“I thought she hated him…”

“Look at them. She’s practically standing with him…”

Sukuna kept you close the entire time, one large hand occasionally resting at the small of your back as you moved through the hall. The touch was possessive, almost protective, even if his face remained cool and composed.

Later, when the orchestra struck up a slower, more intimate melody, Sukuna leaned down, his voice low against your ear.

“Dance with me.”

It wasn’t a question.

You nodded. He led you onto the polished floor, one broad hand settling firmly on your waist while the other held yours. He moved with surprising grace for someone of his size and power — confident, controlled, guiding you effortlessly through the steps. You followed his lead, hyper-aware of every point of contact: the heat of his palm burning through the silk of your gown, the solid wall of his chest so close to yours, the faint scent of leather and smoke that clung to him.

For a few moments the rest of the room seemed to fade.

“You’re doing better than I expected,” he muttered, voice barely audible over the music. His crimson eyes flicked down to meet yours. “People are staring less like they’re waiting for us to start arguing in the middle of the floor.”

You looked up at him, a small genuine smile tugging at your lips. “I told you I wanted to try.”

His grip on your waist tightened just slightly. His thumb brushed once over the fabric of your gown, almost absentmindedly.

“Don’t get comfortable,” he said, though there was less bite in his tone than usual. “This doesn’t mean I trust you yet.”

“I know,” you replied softly. “But thank you for giving me the chance anyway.”

Sukuna didn’t answer. But he also didn’t let go of you when the song ended. Instead, he kept his hand on your lower back as he guided you off the floor, staying closer than strictly necessary.

A short while later, a group of older lords approached Sukuna. One of them — a tall man with silver hair and sharp features — gave a respectful bow.

“Your Grace, if we could steal a moment of your time? There are some matters regarding the northern border that require your input.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened for a brief second. He glanced down at you, then back at the lords.

“Fine,” he said curtly. “I won’t be long.”

Before he stepped away, he leaned in close to your ear, voice low. “Stay here. Don’t wander off.”

You nodded. His hand lingered on your waist for one extra second before he pulled away and followed the group toward a quieter side balcony for their discussion.

Suddenly, you were alone.

You stood near the edge of the dance floor, champagne glass in hand, trying to look more relaxed than you felt. The weight of curious stares hadn’t faded. A few noblewomen still whispered behind their fans, and every so often someone would glance your way with open speculation.

A deep, smooth voice spoke from your left.

“Duchess, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of a proper introduction tonight.”

You turned to find a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and sharp green eyes watching you with a lazy, confident smile. He was dressed in deep emerald and black, a marquess’s insignia pinned neatly to his lapel.

“Marquess Toji Fushiguro,” he introduced himself with a respectful bow of his head. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you over the years. Though I must say, seeing you here with the Duke tonight is… refreshing.”

His tone was warm and easy, without any obvious scheming edge. You felt yourself relax just a little.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marquess,” you replied with a small smile. “I’ve heard your name mentioned before. You handle the eastern trade routes, don’t you?”

Toji’s smile widened, looking genuinely pleased that you knew. “I do. Though I’m surprised you’re familiar with such dull matters. Most duchesses prefer to stay far away from trade talk.”

The conversation flowed surprisingly well. He was charming in a straightforward, slightly roguish way — asking light questions about the northern estates, commenting on the music, and even making a dry joke about how stiff most balls tended to be. You found yourself smiling more naturally, the tension in your shoulders easing as you chatted. For the first time that evening, talking to someone felt… comfortable.

Toji tilted his head slightly, green eyes glinting with curiosity. “If I may be bold, Duchess — you seem different tonight than what the rumors suggested. Happier, perhaps?”

You were about to respond when a large, familiar hand suddenly slid around your waist from behind, fingers gripping your hip with clear possessiveness. A warm, solid body pressed against your back, and you didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

Sukuna.

His grip tightened, pulling you back against his chest in one smooth motion. The heat of his body seeped through the silk of your gown, and his thumb brushed slowly over your hip bone — a blatant, territorial claim.

Toji’s easy smile faltered for half a second before he recovered, inclining his head respectfully.

“Duke Sukuna,” he greeted calmly. “I was just keeping your wife company while you were occupied.”

Sukuna’s voice was low and dangerous, rumbling against your back. “I can see that.” His hand stayed firmly on your hip, fingers pressing in just enough to make a point. “Though I don’t recall asking anyone to entertain my duchess.”

You felt the tension rolling off him in waves. His other arm came around your other side, almost caging you against him in front of the entire hall.

Toji raised an eyebrow, still perfectly civil. “No offense meant, Your Grace. It was an honor speaking with the Duchess.”

Sukuna didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke loud enough for Toji to hear.

“We’re leaving this conversation,” he said flatly. Then, louder, “Come, wife.”

Sukuna didn’t stop walking until he had guided you into a quieter corner of the grand hall, partially shielded by a tall marble pillar and heavy crimson velvet drapes. The music and chatter of the ball felt distant now, muffled. His hand never left your hip. If anything, his grip tightened, fingers digging possessively into the silk of your gown as though he needed the contact to ground himself.

He turned you to face him with surprising care, then backed you gently but firmly against the cool marble pillar. One large hand stayed locked on your waist while the other came up to brace beside your head, effectively caging you in. His body heat enveloped you instantly — warm, solid, and overwhelming. The faint scent of smoke, leather, and something darker clung to him, making your pulse stutter.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself,” he said, voice low and rough, almost a growl. His crimson eyes burned down into yours with unmistakable intensity. “Laughing with him like the two of you were old friends. Did you forget you’re here with me tonight?”

The jealousy in his tone was unmistakable — sharp, dark, and barely leashed.

You kept your voice calm, though your heart was racing. “We were only talking. He was civil. Nothing more.”

Sukuna’s jaw clenched visibly. His thumb began to trace slow, deliberate circles over the curve of your hip through the thin silk, a possessive caress that sent heat rushing across your skin.

“Civil,” he repeated, the word laced with pure disdain. “I saw the way he looked at you. The way he smiled at you.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, voice dropping into something dangerously intimate. “And here I thought you were trying to mend our relationship. Yet the second I turn my back, you’re chatting and smiling with another man like it means nothing.”

His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against the hard wall of his chest. You could feel the tension coiled in every muscle, the barely restrained frustration rolling off him in waves. One of his fingers slipped just beneath the edge of your gown, brushing bare skin at your hip — a deliberate, claiming touch.

“I don’t like sharing what’s mine,” he growled softly, lips brushing your ear. “Especially not with bastards like Toji Fushiguro.”

You swallowed hard, breath shallow. “I wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I was just being polite while you were busy.”

Sukuna let out a low, dangerous sound in the back of his throat — half a scoff, half a laugh. His free hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his burning crimson gaze.

“Polite,” he murmured, thumb stroking slowly along your jawline. “You’re lucky I didn’t drag you out of here the moment I saw his hand move toward you.”

His eyes dropped to your lips for a long, heavy second. The air between you felt charged, electric, like the tension might snap at any moment. For a heartbeat you thought he might kiss you right there — hard, claiming, in full view of everyone still watching from across the hall.

Instead, he leaned in until his lips ghosted against your ear again.

“Next time someone approaches you while I’m gone,” he said, voice dark and velvet-rough, “you tell them you belong to me. Clearly. Because if I have to remind them myself… I won’t be nearly as polite.”

His fingers flexed on your hip in one final, possessive squeeze — a silent promise — before he slowly stepped back. His hand remained at the small of your back, heavy and unrelenting.

The music swelled again around you.

Sukuna’s expression smoothed into something cooler and more composed for the public eye, but the heat in his eyes stayed locked on you.

“Come,” he said, voice still low. “We’re dancing again. And this time, you’re not leaving my side for the rest of the night.”

Sukuna led you back onto the dance floor without another word, his hand firm on your waist, pulling you closer than strictly proper for a public setting. The orchestra had shifted into a slower, more intimate melody — strings and soft piano weaving through the air. Couples swirled around you, but you barely noticed them. All you could focus on was the heat of Sukuna’s body pressed against yours, the way his fingers splayed possessively across your lower back, and the unmistakable tension radiating from him.

He moved with controlled grace, guiding you effortlessly through the steps. Your bodies were flush together, chest to chest, his thigh occasionally brushing yours as you turned. Every point of contact felt electric.

“You’re quiet now,” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. “What happened to all that polite conversation you were having with the marquess?”

You tilted your head slightly to meet his gaze. “You told me not to leave your side. I’m listening.”

A low sound rumbled in his chest — not quite a laugh. His hand slid lower on your back, fingers pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Good girl,” he said softly, almost mockingly, though the heat in his eyes was anything but. “Keep listening. I don’t want to see you smiling at anyone else like that tonight.”

The jealousy was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. You could feel it in the way he held you — tighter than necessary, almost like he was daring anyone to try approaching you again.

As you turned under his arm and came back into his embrace, he leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“He thought he had a chance,” he continued, voice rough. “Like he didn’t know exactly who you belong to.” His fingers flexed against your waist. “Maybe I need to make it clearer.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs. Being this close to him — surrounded by the swirl of music and watching eyes — made everything feel heightened. The scent of him, the solid strength of his body, the barely restrained possessiveness in every touch.

“Sukuna…” you started softly.

He cut you off by pulling you even closer, until there was almost no space left between you. His breath was warm against your temple.

“You wanted to mend things,” he reminded you, tone dark. “Then stop giving other men reasons to think they can talk to my wife like that. Smile at me. Stay close to me.”

The song began to slow, but Sukuna didn’t release you. He kept you locked in his arms even as other couples started drifting apart. His hand slid up your back, fingers tracing your spine through the silk, a silent claim in front of the entire hall.

When the music finally faded, he didn’t let go right away. He stared down at you, crimson eyes heavy with something dangerous and hungry.

“We’re leaving,” he said abruptly, voice low. “I’ve had enough of these people watching us.”

He didn’t wait for your agreement. His hand stayed firmly at the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd toward the exit. Nobles parted for him instinctively, eyes wide at the sight of the Duke and Duchess leaving together so early — and so obviously entangled.

The cool night air hit you the moment you stepped outside. Sukuna kept you close as you waited for the carriage, his arm wrapped around your waist like he still wasn’t ready to stop touching you.

Once inside the carriage, he sat beside you instead of across from you. The door had barely closed before his hand was back on your thigh, gripping possessively through the fabric of your gown.

The carriage started moving, carrying you both back toward the estate through the dark roads. Sukuna’s hand remained on your thigh the entire ride, heavy and warm — a silent reminder of exactly who you belonged to.

By the time it finally rolled to a stop in front of the castle, the moon hung high in the sky. The journey had been quiet, thick with lingering tension. Sukuna hadn’t spoken a word, but his grip on your thigh never loosened.

When the footman opened the door, Sukuna stepped out first and offered you his hand. You took it, letting him help you down onto the stone steps. The cool night air felt refreshing after the stuffy ballroom, but it did little to calm the nerves fluttering in your stomach.

He walked you inside, his hand resting possessively at the small of your back the whole way through the dimly lit halls. Servants bowed and quickly disappeared when they saw you both. The castle felt unusually still.

When you reached the point where the corridors split — one leading to his private wing, the other to yours — Sukuna stopped. He turned to face you, his expression unreadable in the low torchlight.

“You did well tonight,” he admitted grudgingly, staring at you for a long moment before glancing away. “But if I see him — or anyone else — near you again like that…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

Sukuna gave a short nod, almost like he was dismissing you. “Goodnight.”

He turned to leave, heading toward his own chambers.

You stood there for a second, heart pounding, before the words slipped out — soft, shy, and a little nervous.

“Wait…”

Sukuna paused, looking back at you over his shoulder.

You swallowed, cheeks warming as you forced yourself to speak. “You know… we can’t really fix things as a couple if we keep sleeping separately"

The words hung in the air between you. They sounded bolder than you felt.

Sukuna went completely still. For several long seconds he simply stared at you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched — not quite a smile, but something darker, more dangerous.

“Is that so?” he said, voice low and rough. He took one step back toward you, then another, until he was standing close again. “You’re asking to sleep in my bed now?”

He tilted his head, studying your face like he was trying to find the trick in your words. His hand came up, fingers lightly brushing your jaw as he looked down at you.

“Careful, wife,” he murmured, thumb tracing your lower lip. “You keep pushing like this… I might start thinking you actually mean it.”

His gaze dropped to your mouth for a long second before returning to your eyes. The tension between you crackled again, even stronger than it had been at the ball.

Sukuna didn’t move away. He waited, watching you closely, as if daring you to take it back… or push further.

The silence stretched, heavy and charged. His thumb was still resting against your lower lip, warm and rough, while his crimson eyes searched your face for any sign of deception. You could practically feel the suspicion rolling off him in waves.

Finally, he let out a slow breath, almost a scoff.

“…Fine,” he said, voice low and guarded. “If that’s what you want.”

He stepped back slightly, but his hand stayed on your waist, fingers still gripping you with quiet possessiveness. His expression remained cold, cautious, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Don’t expect this to mean anything,” he added, tone flat. “I’m still not convinced you’ve changed. But if you’re so determined to play the part of a real wife… then come.”

He turned and started walking down the corridor toward his private wing, keeping his hand on the small of your back to guide you along with him. The touch was firm — not gentle, but not forceful either. It felt like both an invitation and a test.

The halls were quiet at this hour, lit only by flickering torches. Every step echoed softly. Sukuna didn’t speak again until you reached the heavy wooden doors to his chambers. He pushed them open without hesitation and stepped inside, holding the door for you.

His rooms were large and unmistakably his — dark wood furniture, a massive bed with black silk sheets, a low fire burning in the hearth, weapons and scrolls neatly arranged on shelves. It smelled faintly of smoke and leather.

Sukuna closed the door behind you with a heavy click. He leaned against it for a moment, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you with that same calculating stare.

“You wanted this,” he said quietly, almost like he was reminding both of you. “So here we are.”

He pushed off the door and walked further into the room, loosening the ties on his formal tunic as he went. The movement was casual, but you could feel the tension still radiating from him.

“Get comfortable,” he told you, glancing back at you over his shoulder. His voice was low, almost seductive, but the suspicion never fully left his eyes.

He didn’t say anything else. He simply waited, watching to see what you would do now that you were truly alone with him in his space.

You stood there for a moment, suddenly very aware of how large his chambers felt and how small you felt inside them. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting warm light across the dark wood and black silk sheets. The air smelled like him — smoke, leather, and something faintly metallic.

You swallowed and moved toward the side of the room where a large wardrobe stood. One of the maids had already brought a few of your things here earlier, as if the servants had anticipated this. You picked out a simple black silk nightgown and hesitated.

Sukuna had turned away slightly, pulling off his formal tunic and tossing it over the back of a chair. The movement revealed the strong lines of his back and the black tattoos swirling across his skin. He didn’t look at you, but you could tell he was still aware of every move you made.

You changed quickly behind the privacy screen in the corner, the silk cool against your skin. When you stepped out, Sukuna was already sitting on the edge of the massive bed, wearing only loose black pants. His pink hair was untied now, falling messily around his face. He looked up when you approached.

For a long second he just stared.

Then he let out a slow breath and patted the space beside him.

“Come here,” he said, voice low.

You walked over and climbed onto the bed. The mattress dipped under your weight. Sukuna watched you the entire time, suspicion still clear in his crimson eyes even as he pulled the covers back for you.

You slipped under the sheets, lying on your back. The silk felt cool and smooth. Sukuna stayed sitting for another moment, then finally lay down beside you. The bed was large, but he took up so much space that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

He turned onto his side, facing you. One arm rested above his head while the other lay between you, close enough that his fingers almost brushed your arm.

The silence was heavy.

“You’re really here,” he muttered, almost to himself. His gaze traced your face, still guarded. “In my bed.”

He reached out slowly and brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek. The touch was surprisingly gentle, but his eyes remained cold and watchful.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he said quietly. “If this is another game… I won’t be kind about it.”

Then he shifted closer. Not enough to touch fully, but close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. He didn’t pull you into his arms. He simply laid there, watching you like he was waiting for you to prove something — or reveal your true intentions.

The fire crackled softly in the background. The weight of his presence beside you made it hard to relax, but you stayed there, heart beating steadily.

Sukuna’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again.

“Sleep, wife. We’ll see how long this little performance of yours lasts.”

He didn’t close his eyes right away. He kept watching you in the dim firelight, guarded, suspicious… and just a little intrigued.

Morning light filtered softly through the heavy curtains, pale and hazy, casting long golden stripes across the dark wooden floor. You woke slowly, cocooned in warmth that felt both foreign and strangely comforting. Sukuna’s arm was draped heavily over your waist, his broad chest pressed against your back, one leg loosely tangled with yours beneath the black silk sheets. His breathing was deep and steady, the faint rise and fall of his chest brushing against you with every inhale.

For a long moment you didn’t move. This was the first time you’d ever woken up beside him — sharing the same bed, the same space, the same air. Your heart beat a little too fast as the reality settled in. The Duke of the North was holding you in his sleep, even if it was only out of habit or unconscious possession.

Sukuna stirred a few minutes later. His arm tightened around your waist for a brief second, pulling you closer on instinct, before his body went still. You felt the exact moment consciousness returned to him — the subtle shift in his breathing, the way his muscles tensed ever so slightly against your back.

He didn’t pull away immediately.

“You’re still here,” he said quietly, voice low and rough with sleep. There was a hint of genuine surprise beneath the words. “Figured you’d sneak back to your own room before I woke up.”

You turned your head slightly on the pillow to look at him. His crimson eyes were half-lidded, messy pink hair falling across his forehead. Up close like this, without the usual cold mask, he looked almost human — though the sharp suspicion in his gaze reminded you he was anything but.

“I told you I wanted this,” you replied softly.

Sukuna let out a slow breath, almost a huff. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you properly. His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing slow, absentminded circles over the silk of your nightgown. The touch was light, but you could feel the weight of his attention — guarded, calculating, searching for any crack in your resolve.

He watched you for a long, heavy moment, suspicion still clear in his expression. The silence between you felt intimate and fragile at the same time. His fingers flexed once against your waist before relaxing again.

“Don’t get too used to this,” he said eventually, tone flat but not cruel. “One night doesn’t fix anything. One night doesn’t make me trust you.”

Then, almost like he couldn’t help himself, he added more quietly, “But… you can stay for breakfast if you want.”

Sukuna rolled away and got out of bed, stretching his powerful arms above his head. The morning light traced every line of muscle and the intricate black tattoos that covered his shoulders, chest, and back. He moved with the casual confidence of someone completely at ease in his own space, yet you could still feel the tension humming beneath his skin.

God, he’s even hotter in person… no wonder I was obsessed.

He grabbed a fresh tunic but didn’t put it on. Instead, he leaned against the wardrobe, watching you in his sheets with that dark, cautious gaze. The fire had burned low, leaving the room quiet and heavy with unspoken tension.

Sukuna tilted his head slightly. “Well?” he asked, voice still rough from sleep. “Are you going to lie there all morning?”

You didn’t make him wait long.

You slipped out of bed, the black silk nightgown clinging lightly to your skin as you moved. The morning air in the chamber felt cooler than the warmth of the sheets you’d just left. Sukuna watched you the entire time from where he leaned against the wardrobe, arms crossed over his broad chest, expression unreadable but intense.

“Breakfast will be brought here,” he said simply, voice still rough from sleep. “No need to go to the main hall today.”

A short while later, servants arrived with silver trays. They moved quickly and quietly, setting the table near the tall windows with practiced care — a pot of strong black tea, warm crusty bread, thick slices of roasted meat, fresh berries, and a small dish of honey. The scent of the food filled the room, warm and savory. They kept their eyes lowered, clearly unsettled by the sight of you in the Duke’s private chambers wearing only a nightgown and robe, but they left without a single word.

Sukuna sat down first. You took the seat across from him.

The morning light streamed in through the tall windows, casting a soft golden glow across the table and highlighting the sharp angles of his face. It traced the black tattoos visible at the open collar of his tunic and the faint scars on his hands as he picked up his knife. For several long minutes, the only sounds were the quiet clink of silverware and the distant crackle from the hearth.

Finally, Sukuna set his knife down with a quiet click and leaned back in his chair, crimson eyes locking onto you with that familiar guarded intensity.

“So,” he said, voice low and guarded, “what made you change?”

You looked up from your plate, heart skipping a beat. Just died and woke up in the body of the woman you’re supposed to kill. No big deal.

There was no point in holding back anymore. 

“I like you,” you said simply, meeting his gaze. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

Sukuna stared at you for a long, heavy beat. Then he let out a short, bitter laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Bullshit.”

The word landed blunt and cold. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, watching you with sharp suspicion.

“You expect me to believe that? After months of silence, after treating me like I was beneath you, after making sure everyone knew how much you despised this marriage… you suddenly like me?” His voice dripped with disbelief. “Try again.”

You didn’t look away. Your voice stayed quiet but steady.

“No, really,” you said. “I do. I like you. That’s why I’m trying so hard.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. He studied your face like he was searching for the lie, the manipulation, the trick. The silence stretched between you, thick and tense. His fingers tapped once against the edge of the table before he leaned back again, the corner of his mouth curving into a slow, dangerous smirk.

“Okay, little liar,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Then prove it to me.”

You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Prove it to you…?” you repeated softly, the words coming out a little breathless.

Sukuna’s smirk deepened, but his eyes stayed sharp and watchful. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, closing some of the distance between you.

“Yes,” he said, voice dropping lower, almost velvet-smooth. “Prove it. You say you like me. You say you want to fix this marriage. So show me.”

His gaze drifted slowly down to your mouth, then back up to your eyes. The air between you felt heavier now, warmer. He reached across the table and brushed his fingers lightly against the back of your hand, the touch deceptively gentle.

“You’re in my chambers. In my bed,” he continued, thumb tracing a slow line over your knuckles. “If you’re actually serious… then stop hiding behind pretty words and prove it.”

His touch lingered, possessive but controlled, sending a slow shiver up your arm. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he watched your reaction closely, crimson eyes dark with suspicion and something much hotter underneath.

“Prove it, wife,” he said again, voice low and seductive. “I’m right here. Show me how much you like me.”

The breakfast table suddenly felt far too small. The tension had shifted — still laced with his suspicion, but now crackling with slow, deliberate heat as he waited for you to make the next move.

Your pulse thundered under his thumb. You could feel the weight of his stare, the way his crimson eyes darkened as they traced your face, your lips, the line of your throat. He wasn’t touching you anywhere else, but it still felt like he had you pinned.

You swallowed, heat blooming across your cheeks and down your neck.

“…How?” you asked, voice quieter than you intended. “How do you want me to prove it?”

Sukuna’s smirk deepened, slow and dangerous. He leaned in a little closer across the table, his thumb still stroking lazy circles over your knuckles.

“That’s the fun part,” he murmured. “You figure it out. You’re the one claiming you like me. So show me what that looks like.”

His free hand moved, reaching across to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was almost gentle, but his fingers lingered at the side of your neck, tracing lightly down the column of your throat before pulling away.

“You can start by coming here,” he said, voice low and commanding. He pushed his chair back slightly and patted his thigh once. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

Your breath caught. Heart racing, you stood up slowly and rounded the table. The moment you were close enough, Sukuna’s hand caught your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap. He settled you sideways across his thighs, one arm wrapping securely around your waist while the other rested on your leg, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh.

Up close like this, you could feel the heat of his body, the solid strength of his chest against your side, the way his breath brushed your temple.

“Better,” he said, voice rough. His hand slid slowly up your thigh, stopping just below the hem of your nightgown. “Now… show me.”

He tilted his head, lips hovering near your jaw.

“Kiss me,” he ordered softly. “Like you mean it. Like you actually want your husband.”

His crimson eyes were locked on yours, still guarded, still waiting for the lie to slip through. But beneath the suspicion, there was clear hunger — dark and patient, daring you to close the distance.

Sukuna’s fingers flexed on your thigh, a silent reminder of his patience running thin.

“Well, wife?” he murmured, voice velvet-rough against your skin. “I’m waiting.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer.

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss started soft — tentative on your end, testing. Sukuna stayed still for half a second, as if surprised you’d actually done it.

Then he took control.

His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you harder against his mouth. The kiss deepened instantly, turning hungry and demanding. His tongue swept past your lips, claiming your mouth with a low growl that vibrated against you. He tasted like black tea and heat, and the way he kissed you was nothing short of possessive — like he was trying to erase every other man who had ever looked at you.

You gasped into his mouth. Sukuna used the opening to tilt your head and kiss you deeper, tongue stroking yours with slow, filthy intent. His other hand gripped your thigh tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you more firmly onto his lap until you were straddling him.

“Better,” he rasped against your lips when he finally pulled back just enough to breathe. His crimson eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. “But not enough.”

He kissed you again, harder this time. One hand slipped under the hem of your nightgown, palm sliding up your bare thigh, pushing the silk higher and higher until his fingers brushed the edge of your underwear. He didn’t go further yet — just teased, stroking the sensitive skin there while his mouth moved to your jaw, then down to your neck.

“You say you like me,” he growled against your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point. “Then prove how much.”

He sucked on your skin, hard enough to leave a mark, and you couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped you. Sukuna’s grip on your thigh tightened in response, and you felt him growing hard beneath you, the thick length pressing against your core through his pants.

Your hands moved on instinct, sliding up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic. He made a low, approving sound and rocked his hips up once, grinding against you deliberately.

“Touch me,” he ordered, voice rough. “If you’re serious, then fucking touch me.”

You obeyed, sliding your hands under his tunic, palms running over the hard planes of his stomach and the tattoos that covered his skin. His muscles tensed under your touch. Sukuna rewarded you by biting down on your neck again, then soothing the spot with his tongue.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, breathing heavy, eyes burning.

“Keep going,” he said, voice dark and commanding. His hands gripping your ass firmly as he pulled you down harder against his growing erection. “Show me exactly how much you want your husband.”

His hips rolled up deliberately, grinding the thick ridge of his cock against your clit in slow, filthy circles. The friction was maddening, heat building fast between you.

You moaned into his mouth. The sound seemed to snap something in him.

He growled low in his throat and rocked you harder against him. “Fuck,” he rasped against your lips, breath hot. “You’re already so wet for me.”

One large hand slipped further under your nightgown, calloused palm dragging up your bare thigh until his fingers found the soaked fabric of your panties. He groaned at the feeling, pressing two thick fingers against your clothed slit and rubbing firmly, spreading your wetness.

“So fucking wet,” he muttered, voice dark and rough. “All this from just sitting on my lap?”

He pushed your panties aside with impatient fingers and dragged two thick digits slowly through your slick folds. The first direct touch made your hips jerk sharply. Pleasure shot through you like lightning — hot, electric, and overwhelming. You were already soaked, embarrassingly wet, and Sukuna could feel it.

He chuckled darkly against your throat, the low vibration sending shivers racing down your spine as he kissed and bit along your neck, marking you with teeth and tongue.

“You’re dripping down my fingers, wife,” he growled, voice rough and filthy. “This greedy little cunt is making such a mess already.”

He pushed one thick finger inside you slowly, stretching your tight walls. Your inner muscles clenched hard around the intrusion, hot and silky. The feeling of being filled by him — even just one finger — made your breath hitch. He added a second finger almost immediately, scissoring them lazily while his thumb found your swollen clit and rubbed tight, relentless circles.

The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into your soaked pussy filled the quiet morning room — lewd squelching noises that would have made you blush if you weren’t already trembling with pleasure. Your arousal coated his hand, dripping down his wrist and onto his lap as he worked you open with practiced, unhurried strokes.

You whimpered, hands fisting tightly in the front of his tunic. Sukuna’s free hand yanked the neckline of your nightgown down roughly, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He leaned in and sucked one sensitive nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking roughly over the peak before his teeth grazed it. The sharp sting mixed with pleasure made your back arch, pushing your chest closer to his hungry mouth.

“So fucking sensitive,” he murmured against your skin, voice muffled as he switched to the other nipple, sucking harder. “Look at you. Falling apart just from my fingers like a desperate little whore.”

He curled his fingers inside you, stroking that perfect spot with devastating accuracy while his thumb pressed firmer circles on your clit. Your hips rocked desperately against his hand, chasing every thrust, every stroke. The wet sounds grew louder, filthier, echoing obscenely in the quiet chamber.

Sukuna pulled back just enough to watch your face, his crimson eyes dark with lust and that ever-present edge of suspicion.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice low and rough. “Let me feel how much this supposed ‘liking me’ makes this tight little pussy squeeze around my fingers.”

His fingers curled harder, stroking that sensitive spot relentlessly while his thumb worked your clit faster. The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, burning hotter with every thrust, every filthy word.

It snapped.

You came hard with a broken moan, walls clenching violently around his thick fingers. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as slick gushed over his hand, soaking his palm and dripping down his wrist. Pleasure crashed through you in waves, leaving you gasping and trembling.

Sukuna groaned deeply at the feeling, still pumping his fingers slowly through your spasms, drawing out every last pulse until you were shaking and oversensitive, whimpering softly.

He finally pulled his fingers free, glistening with your release. Without breaking eye contact, he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, tongue dragging slowly and deliberately over his skin, savoring your taste.

“Sweet,” he murmured, voice husky and dark. His eyes never left yours.

He lifted you effortlessly and stood, carrying you toward the massive bed. He laid you down on the black silk sheets, hovering over you with that same dark, hungry look.

“Take the nightgown off,” he commanded, already pulling his own tunic over his head, revealing the full expanse of his tattooed, muscled torso. “I want to see all of you.”

His hands moved to his pants, loosening them as he watched you, eyes burning with lust and that ever-present edge of suspicion.

“Prove how much you actually want me, wife.”

You sat up on the bed, heart hammering against your ribs. Under his burning gaze, you reached for the hem of your nightgown and pulled it up and over your head, letting the silk fall to the floor. The cool air of the chamber brushed over your bare skin, making your nipples tighten instantly.

Sukuna’s eyes raked slowly over your naked body — from your flushed face, down the curve of your breasts, your stomach, and the glistening wetness already coating your inner thighs. He let out a low, rough sound deep in his chest, almost a growl.

“Fuck… look at you,” he muttered, voice thick. “So small. So fucking pretty.”

He shoved his pants the rest of the way down his hips and kicked them aside. His cock sprang free, heavy and thick, the veined shaft curving slightly upward. It was meaty — obscenely so — the girth making your mouth go dry. The flushed head was already leaking, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. Even fully hard, it looked almost too big, too heavy, the weight of it making it hang thick and full between his powerful thighs.

You couldn’t help the soft, shaky breath that escaped you.

Sukuna noticed. His smirk was dark and satisfied as he crawled onto the bed, the mattress dipping deeply under his much larger frame. He settled between your spread thighs, his broad shoulders forcing your legs wider apart. The size difference hit you all over again — he was so much bigger than you, his body completely eclipsing yours as he hovered above you.

He gripped his thick cock in one large hand and dragged the heavy head through your soaked folds, coating himself in your wetness. The blunt, meaty tip nudged against your entrance, pressing just enough to tease the stretch.

“You’re tiny compared to me,” he rasped, voice low and rough. “Gonna feel every inch when I split you open.”

He pushed forward slowly.

The thick head of his cock breached you, stretching your entrance with a slow, burning pressure. You gasped sharply at the sheer girth — he was so thick that your walls had to part around him, fluttering and clenching as he sank deeper. The heavy, meaty weight of his cock filled you inch by inch, dragging against every sensitive ridge inside you until you were full, so full, your back arching off the bed with a broken moan.

Sukuna groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours. His balls rested heavy and warm against you.

“Shit,” he breathed against your neck, voice strained. “So fucking tight… this little pussy is sucking me in like it was made for me.”

He stayed buried deep for a moment, letting you adjust to the overwhelming stretch, the way his thick cock throbbed inside you, hot and heavy. Then he started moving — slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his meaty length along your walls with every thrust. The wet, obscene sound of him sliding in and out of your soaked cunt filled the room, slick and filthy.

You whimpered, nails digging into his broad shoulders. “Sukuna… you’re so big—”

He growled at your words, hips snapping harder, driving his thick cock deeper. The drag was exquisite, every vein and ridge rubbing against your most sensitive spots. His size made you feel impossibly full, stretched wide around his girth, the pressure bordering on too much but so, so good.

“Take it,” he rasped, voice dark and possessive. “Take every fucking inch like the good little wife you’re trying to be.”

He leaned down and captured your mouth in a messy, hungry kiss, tongue fucking your mouth in time with his deep thrusts. His heavy balls slapped against you with every powerful stroke, the wet sounds growing louder as your arousal dripped down his shaft and soaked the sheets beneath you.

You moaned into his mouth, legs wrapping tighter around his waist, heels digging into his back. The size difference made everything more intense — his broad chest crushing your breasts, his muscular thighs spreading you wide, his massive frame completely dominating yours as he fucked you into the mattress.

Sukuna pulled back just enough to look at you, breathing hard, eyes dark with lust and that lingering edge of suspicion.

“Tell me again,” he growled, hips grinding deep, the thick head of his cock pressing against that perfect spot inside you. “Tell me how much you like your husband’s cock while I’m ruining this tight little pussy.”

You could barely think through the overwhelming fullness. His cock was so thick it felt like he was splitting you open with every slow, deliberate thrust. The heavy drag of his veined shaft against your walls made your toes curl, pleasure bordering on too much.

“I like it,” you gasped, voice breaking on a moan as he rolled his hips again, grinding the fat head against your g-spot. “I like your cock so much— fuck, Sukuna, you’re so deep…”

A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest. He hooked one of your legs over his arm, spreading you wider, and drove into you harder. The new angle made his thick cock hit even deeper, the heavy weight of his balls slapping wetly against your ass with every powerful thrust. Your juices coated his shaft, dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you, the lewd squelching sounds echoing obscenely in the quiet room.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned, voice rough and strained. “This greedy little cunt is sucking me in like it doesn’t want to let go.”

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a messy, dominating kiss. His tongue fucked into your mouth in time with his cock, deep and filthy, while his hips snapped forward harder. The sheer size difference made everything more intense — his broad, muscled body completely covering yours, his weight pressing you down into the mattress as he fucked you with long, punishing strokes.

You whimpered into his mouth, nails raking down his back, leaving red lines across his tattooed skin. Sukuna hissed at the sting and rewarded you by pounding into you even harder, the thick head of his cock bullying that sensitive spot inside you over and over.

“Again,” he demanded against your lips, breath hot and ragged. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

“You,” you moaned, legs shaking as another wave of pleasure crashed through you. “It belongs to you— only you—”

“Good girl.”

He sat back on his heels, pulling your hips up with him so your lower back was off the bed. The new angle let him drive even deeper, his thick cock stretching you wide with every brutal thrust. His thumb found your swollen clit again, rubbing tight, firm circles while he fucked you senseless.

The wet slap of skin against skin mixed with your broken moans and his low grunts. Your breasts bounced with every powerful snap of his hips, nipples tight and aching. Sukuna’s gaze was locked between your legs, watching hungrily as his thick cock disappeared into your soaked pussy again and again, stretching you obscenely around his girth.

“Look at that,” he growled, voice dark. “Taking every inch like you were made for me. So fucking pretty when you’re stuffed full of my cock.”

The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, burning hotter with every deep thrust, every swipe of his thumb on your clit. Your thighs trembled violently in his grip.

“Sukuna— I’m gonna—!”

“Cum,” he ordered, hips slamming into you harder. “Cum on your husband’s cock like the desperate little wife you are.”

It hit you like a wave. You came hard with a broken cry, walls clenching violently around his thick length, pulsing and fluttering as slick gushed around him. Your whole body shook, back arching sharply as pleasure tore through you.

Sukuna groaned deeply at the feeling, hips stuttering. “Fuck— that’s it. Milk my cock.”

He fucked you through your orgasm, prolonging it until you were whimpering and oversensitive. Then, with a low, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard, thick ropes of hot cum flooding deep inside you. He kept grinding his hips in slow circles, pushing his release even deeper as he emptied himself completely.

“We’re not done,” he said quietly, a dangerous promise in his tone. “Not even close.”

Sukuna pulled out of you with a wet, filthy sound, your combined release dripping down your thighs. Before you could catch your breath, he flipped you onto your back and manhandled you like you weighed nothing. He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled you into his lap facing away from him, and hooked his powerful arms under your knees, folding you in a full nelson.

Your back pressed flush against his broad, tattooed chest. Your legs were spread obscenely wide, knees pushed up toward your shoulders by his strong arms. The position left you completely helpless — folded in half, pussy exposed and dripping, his thick cock sliding hot and heavy between your slick folds.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growled right against your ear, voice feral. “So small and folded up for me. Perfect little fucktoy.”

He thrust up hard, burying his massive cock back inside you in one brutal stroke. The new angle made him feel even thicker, even deeper. You cried out, the sound raw and broken as his meaty length stretched you wide open again, the fat head bullying against your cervix with every thrust.

Sukuna went feral.

He fucked you like an animal — hard, fast, and relentless. His hips snapped up with powerful force, slamming his thick cock into your soaked pussy over and over. The wet, obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, mixed with the lewd squelching of your dripping cunt taking every inch. His heavy balls slapped against your ass with every brutal thrust, the impact jolting through your body.

You were cockdrunk almost immediately.

Your mind went hazy, eyes rolling back as pleasure overloaded your senses. All you could do was moan helplessly, body limp in his hold as he used you. His thick cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you, the sheer girth stretching you so wide it bordered on pain, but the pleasure was so intense you couldn’t think straight.

“S-Sukuna— ahh— too deep—” you slurred, voice broken and whiny.

He only fucked you harder, arms locked tight under your knees, keeping you folded and helpless as he pounded into you. His chest was slick with sweat against your back, his hot breath panting against your ear.

“Take it,” he snarled, voice feral and animalistic. “Take every fucking inch. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? My cock ruining this tight little pussy.”

You could only moan incoherently, head lolling back against his shoulder. Drool slipped from the corner of your mouth as he fucked you senseless, his thick cock bullying your insides with every savage thrust. The wet sounds were filthy — your juices coating his shaft and dripping down his balls, soaking the sheets beneath you.

Sukuna suddenly pulled out, flipped you onto your stomach, and yanked your hips up so your ass was high in the air. He slammed back into you in one brutal thrust, fucking you in deep, punishing doggy style.

“Fuck— yes,” he groaned, voice wrecked. One large hand came down hard on your ass with a loud smack, the sting blooming hot across your skin. He did it again, harder, the sharp crack echoing as he pounded into you from behind.

Your face was pressed into the sheets, ass up, completely at his mercy as he railed you. His thick cock drove so deep you felt it in your stomach, the heavy drag of his veined shaft making your eyes roll back. He smacked your ass again, gripping the soft flesh hard as he used you.

“You’re mine,” he growled, hips snapping forward relentlessly. “This pussy is mine. Say it.”

You could barely speak, mind blank and cockdrunk, but you whimpered obediently between moans, “Yours… it’s yours—”

Sukuna snarled in satisfaction and fucked you even harder, the bed creaking violently under the force of his thrusts. His heavy balls slapped against your clit with every brutal stroke, pushing you closer and closer to the edge again.

He was relentless now — grunting low and animalistic, cursing under his breath as his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. He claimed you with deep, punishing strokes, each one driving his thick cock so deep you felt it in your stomach.

“Fuck— this pussy is sucking me in so greedily,” he growled, voice wrecked and animalistic. One hand left your hip and came down hard on your ass again with a loud smack, the sharp sting blooming hot across your skin. He did it again, harder, gripping the soft, reddened flesh and spreading you wider as he railed you.

Your mind was completely melted. All you could do was moan and whimper into the sheets, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth as he pounded into you. His thick, meaty cock stretched you so wide it felt like he was reshaping you from the inside. Every deep, punishing thrust made the fat head kiss your cervix, sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure-pain shooting through your body.

“S-Sukuna— too much— ahh—!” you slurred, voice broken and whiny, barely coherent anymore.

He laughed darkly, low and breathless, and smacked your ass once more before gripping both cheeks and spreading you obscenely. He watched hungrily as his thick cock disappeared into your soaked, fluttering pussy again and again, your juices coating his shaft and dripping down his heavy balls.

“Look at this greedy little hole,” he rasped, hips snapping forward brutally. “Taking my fat cock so well. You’re dripping everywhere, wife. Making such a fucking mess on my sheets.”

He leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place while the other braced beside your head. The new angle let him drive even deeper, his heavy cock bullying that perfect spot inside you with every savage thrust. The wet, filthy plap plap plap of his hips slamming into your ass filled the room, mixed with your broken moans and his guttural grunts.

You were shaking, thighs trembling violently, another orgasm building fast. Your mind was blank — nothing but the overwhelming stretch, the heat, the relentless drag of his thick veined cock inside you.

Sukuna’s breath was hot against your ear. “You’re mine,” he growled, teeth grazing your shoulder. “This tight little cunt is mine. Say it while you cum on my cock again.”

You could barely form words, but you whimpered obediently between moans, voice slurred and cockdrunk. “Yours— it’s yours— Sukuna— please—!”

He fucked you harder, hips pistoning relentlessly, the heavy slap of his balls against your clit pushing you over the edge. You came with a shattered cry, walls clamping down around his thick length like a vice, pulsing and fluttering as another intense orgasm ripped through you. Slick gushed around his cock, soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath you.

Sukuna groaned loudly, the sound raw and feral. “Good fucking girl—”

He didn’t stop. He fucked you through your orgasm with deep, stuttering thrusts, hips snapping erratically as he chased his own release. With a final, powerful drive, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded deep inside you, pulse after heavy pulse filling you until you felt impossibly full, the warmth spreading through your core. He kept grinding slowly, rolling his hips in lazy circles to push every drop deeper, making sure you took all of him.

You could feel it leaking out around his thick cock — warm, sticky, and messy — dripping down your thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you.

Sukuna stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, his massive body pressing you firmly into the mattress. His chest heaved against your back, hot, ragged breaths fanning across the side of your neck. The scent of sweat, sex, and his skin filled the air with every shaky inhale. One of his hands stroked slowly up and down your side, almost possessively, while the other stayed gripping your hip, fingers digging in like he still wasn’t ready to let go.

“…Not bad,” he muttered, voice hoarse and low against your ear. “For a little liar.”

He finally pulled out slowly, inch by thick inch. A heavy trickle of his cum immediately leaked from your abused, fluttering pussy, warm and obscene as it ran down your inner thighs. Sukuna let out a low, satisfied hum at the sight before he rolled you onto your back and collapsed beside you.

Without a word, he pulled you against his chest, one strong arm wrapping around you possessively. His skin was hot and slightly damp with sweat, his heartbeat still racing steadily under your cheek as he held you close.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as he caught his breath.

But he didn’t let go.

a\n: honestly didn't know how to end this but hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs appreciated!!

You're unsure what it was about you that made you so special, but if you had to thank someone for your status in the society of prostitution, that someone would be Geto Suguru, who was the first to openly pick you as his favored escort.

After he came in to your brothel unmasked and open with who he was, many people of higher society began to follow suit until this trend eventually reached royal walls.

It was by then that you were sought out by only the best of the best. And while this was supposed to be a good thing for you, considering it meant much better pay and (thankfully) less harassment, you found yourself facing a new difficulty as your two highest paying clients began to butt heads and clash with their timing...

——

On one hand, you had well known cultist leader Geto Suguru who you'd wrapped around your pretty little finger from his first night with you.

You recall said first night like it were yesterday.

Dimmed lanterns littered the brothel's corners and ceilings, leaving arrays of shadows and silhouettes to splay out across the rich velvet-draped walls whilst the scent of sex 'n sin coated the air.

You were leaning against a scrupulously carved wooden bar, the silks of your robe slanting off your right shoulder—leaving room for a teasing curve of your breasts to spill out to the varying patrons winding about. It'd been a rather busy night for you, as you'd tended to at least three clients back to back prior to finding this short moment for yourself.

Most could hardly afford an entire night with you at this time, even though you weren't considered the best of the best just yet. This brothel brought in all sorts of lost souls, a diverse set individuals who's cash and coin could bring them whatever flesh they craved when their desires ran most rampant.

Your eyes had scanned the room time and time again in search of who to approach, as it was also rather rare that you'd have a second to do the approaching—most came to you. But, this night had been wildly different.

Your gaze plucked out the regulars and you grimaced as the prospect of having to approach one of those merchants who carried leering grins and uncomfortably grabby hands dawned on you. Although you'd a busy night thus far, you were quite hungry for cash.

All you wanted was one more customer before you'd call it a successful night.

You debated on approaching some soldiers who's hands you knew to itch for softness, deeply considering how their pockets tended to run rather deep.

When such powerful fascinations of magic existed, it was only natural that all sorts of people existed as well. There were benders of four different kinds, sorcerers who had the most complex of abilities, mixes of both who existed, and lastly—regular people who carried no special, otherworldly aptitudes whatsoever.

That last category is where you fall. But, you suppose being able to bend your back just right and give people a taste of something far sweeter than any source of supernatural abilities out there was something to be moderately proud of.

It was in this very brothel that you felt most powerful, and nothing nor anyone could take that away from you.

Especially not by the time Geto entered the establishment for the first time.

Staggering in at over six feet tall, cloaked in black from head to toe with half of his face hidden behind an ornate mask, he was certainly nothing to be played with when you first saw him.

You—and everyone else in a hundred mile radius—had heard many rumors and tales of the infamous Geto Suguru. How he slaughtered his own family, was actively wanted for doing so by members of Jujutsu Society, and had some sort of cult brewing about to spread ideals of slaughter in regards to any non-sorcerers.

But, given the mask he had on, you held no idea that the man snapping his eyes your way was him.

Though, looking back on it now, it should've been obvious. Only half of his face was concealed but most should be able to recognize that sharp jawline and those seductive eyes of amethyst hue from a mile away. Not to mention the long tresses of raven black that cascaded down his back, swishing with much elegance as he paced deeper into the brothel—half of it pulled up into quite the signature bun.

"You," He'd been standing in front of you much faster than you had time to prepare yourself for, his voice laced with this smooth purr that—again—anyone should've been able to recognize.

You remember the way you straightened up almost immediately, your gaze meeting his as the tension of his visual scrutiny fell down on you. Luckily for you, you were able to collect yourself just in time to offer a short nod of your head, "Of course."

You had to force steadiness in your voice just to maintain your usual confidence. No way were you about to let some masked stranger get you all nervous.

...Even if the masked stranger in question undressed you with his eyes in a way you swear you've never experienced before.

You ended up leading him up the creaky set of stairs to your left. It was apparent in how quiet he was along the way that he hadn't been a man of many words, at least not to people he didn't know—ergo, you.

Once upstairs, he followed you down the relatively quiet hall, the only source of sound coming from the soft click of a shutting door as you eventually brought him into a private room.

His eyes didn't stay on you long, too eager to take in the intimate space around him. He'd linger his gaze over the wide bed, scoff quietly at the cheap-looking sheets tossed over it, and shift in his standing as he contemplated deeply on all the decisions that led him here.

Then his attention found you again.

Whilst he had reminded dormant, you slowly turned around to face him and wasted little time in working to untie your velvety robes. The fabrics fell to pool at your feet, and for anyone who lived a life much different to this one—the way things played out may have come off as strange. But for you, having a client who spoke very little such as this one wasn't unusual in the slightest.

Hell, it was on nights like that where you preferred it most, honestly.

"Shall I uh..." Your voice wavered a moment but you quickly made up for it via gesturing your hand out to the man. Then you pacing closer to him, "Shall I help you?" You offered simply, your movement extending out into a reach as you went for his clothing.

A hand met your wrist and his head shook, "Not yet."

You'd known the gentleman for no longer than twenty minutes and yet only three words had come your way. How strange.

Unfortunately, you weren't given much time to ponder on his aloofness since you were distracted by the way his hand left you and went for his mask. He lifted it away and you gasped almost immediately at the reveal, stumbling back a bit to move your hands over your mouth.

In one respect, you were scared shitless. The man known for bringing harm to non-sorcerers was currently standing in front of you, a non-sorcerer. And in the other respect, it was hard to be entirely fearful when he had the face of an angel.

Most men prior to this instance weren't always the easiest on the eyes, and it was quite the rarity for you to be in a situation like this.

A few lengthy strands of hair framed the upper half of his now-revealed face and fuck if he wasn't the most beautiful man you'd ever laid your eyes on.

"You look scared," Geto pointed out bluntly, his gaze inert. He watched closely at the way the center of your throat moved with the gulp you took.

Cute.

You wanted to swipe your robes back up from the floor and run for your life, but what good would that really do you?

"Well, you're known for..." Your words failed you entirely but you tried your best to vocalize your scattered thoughts. "A-And I'm not a—"

"A sorcerer? I know," He fills in for you, closing the distance you'd tried to create between the two of you. "But, I don't need you to be a sorcerer to fuck you, do I?"

It was in that moment, and with those words, that you remembered what exactly your job was. Fearing that this man would harm you despite him literally coming to this establishment to feed into whatever lust lived inside him was mildly foolish on your part.

You eventually let your head nod understandingly, your gaze sinking to the floor in slight embarrassment. Meanwhile he'd found himself amused. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on you that you'd easily become his exception for the sorcerer exclusive world he wanted to eventually create.

Geto stepped forward and went to take your wrists into his hands again, tugging you towards him and guiding your palms to his torso. "You can undress me now," He instructed.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you did so, struggling to swallow that lingering fear all the way down. It wasn't until you'd managed his top off that he moved to grab at your jaw rather roughly, forcing your head up and your eyes on his.

You gasped again, "Lord Geto, I—"

"Suguru will suffice," He murmured before you could even finish, tipping his head to the side and leaning in to caress your lips with his own. "I am yours more than you are mine tonight, alright?"

It was obvious he was trying to soothe your nerves but it wasn't really working until his lips fell onto yours. Your eyes went wide when he kissed you, stuck in your own shock and unable to bring yourself back into the moment.

Then, by the time his tongue darted out to tap at the corners of your mouth seeking entry, you regained some of yourself and managed to part your lips for him. After which his tongue met with yours and it was as though a flip had been switched in your head.

Your body pushed forward into his without second thought and you caught him by surprise quickly enough for him to grunt into your mouth. The taste of Geto on your tongue was something you'd never forget—not by a long shot.

One of your hands flew up to the side of his face to trace his cheek as your other explored the expanse of his abs, fingertips dipping against every sharp curve. Geto's body shuddered under your suddenly initiative touch, his breath clinging to his lungs and refusing to leave him in a timely manner.

A single slip of tongues was all it took for you to feel like yourself again and that was enough to have Geto reeling. Your thumb swiped against his cheek in a fashion more tender than he'd ever experienced in his life and he was completely under your figurative spell until your other hand began to dip past his waistband.

After a few minutes of exchanging saliva and soft moans, he'd unconsciously pushed you back against the bed. You pulled away from him and moved to sink to your knees without him having to say anything—leaving him to miss the feel of your tits against his naked chest.

Geto's hand came to the top of your head carefully as you tugged at his dark slacks, letting them plunge to the floor so that his erect cock could spring free. The man swears he caught a little twinkle in your eye upon watching how his dick came slapping up against his abdomen. Perhaps you were a bit more passionate about your job than he'd realized.

His cock was unduly thick, tannish length standing tall and curved whilst it dripped excessively with precum from the plump tip. You were salivating before you'd even copped a proper feel.

Your eyes flicked upward and he peered down at you expectantly, cocking a brow as if to ask what was taking you so long. You never cared much for being rushed but something told you that his neediness would somehow make everything worth it soon enough.

Then your mouth met his tip and you licked slowly, savoring the new taste of him on your tongue. He groaned faintly before moving to thread his fingers into your hair for a better grip on your head, his hips instinctively rocking forward. Your lips stretched around his cock as you swallowed him in, drool spilling out from the sides and quick to make a mess of your face.

Geto wasn't hesitant in fucking your mouth, especially with how good you were at using it. Your tongue did these tricks against him that he'd never felt before and it had his balls aching for release within a matter of minutes.

Hell, it had him thinking maybe he should've visited a brothel sooner!

"Jus' like that," Came from his purring tongue, "Take every inch of me-, fuck—mhmm, stretch that throat out. That's perfect." He grunted, voice laced with a nasty cadence.

You'd gag slightly as he knocked against the back of your throat, but it was a feeling you'd grown quite used to over time so you've come to enjoy it more than anything. Geto didn't take much longer to use your mouth as if it were specifically shaped to accommodate the size of his fat cock.

When he felt himself growing close, he plucked you right off of him and let the slops of saliva web all in between his tip and your chin. Then he'd hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed, abandoning thoughts of his own pleasure just to come spread your legs and kneel himself between them.

It wasn't unusual for clients to eat you out per-se, but it was quite uncommon.

Surging forward with no preamble, Geto buried his face into your sappy folds, his tongue coming forward with a spongey greeting to soak in your arousal. In the midst of this, you caught the man smiling like he'd proved something to himself just from getting a taste of you. Whatever that something was is entirely unbeknownst to you but, it matters little in the long run.

"Suguru," You tested, letting his name fall from you for the first time and watching how he instantly ground his hips forward to rub his bare cock against the bedsheets.

His lips were glistening in the remnants of you as his head fwipped upwards, "Again, pretty. Say it like you mean it." Geto ordered.

You did exactly that whilst he dove right back in, his hand coming out of seemingly nowhere to add two fingers into you and stretch you open on par with the rotational laps of his tongue.

"Mmngh! Sugu-, shit.." You huffed breathlessly beneath him and the workings of his mouth.

It seemed as though the sudden nickname you spewed was enough to send him into this feral state of feasting, mouth widening against your pussy just to suck 'n kiss alllll over you like you deserved to be sucked 'n kissed on. Your fingers tangled into his hair somewhere along the way but it began to grip and tug as you felt your orgasm approaching.

The skin of your thighs caged his head as your voice grew loud enough to escape the otherwise sound-proof walls of the room.

Directly after your orgasm flooded both his tongue and his thick fingers, Geto had no plans on letting you recover from it.

That first night with him was quick in the best way imaginable.

Geto rose to position his achy cock at your entrance, letting the head smack! in between your puffy folds a couple times before he started pushing in. Your hands went out to grip at the surrounding sheets and you whined whilst he stretched you out.

He was the first client of yours to ever make you feel so immersed in the acts of sexual pleasure, but far from the last.

He waited for the walls of your cunt to adjust to his thick size before he worked a steady pace into you, soon fucking you in a way that's simply incomparable to what you were used to. Your body rocked and rocked against the bed with his every thrust, his hands moving from the sheets to your hips, then to your breasts just to squeeze your body like he felt you needed.

One moment he was groaning and grunting above you about how good you felt, and the next his hands were on the undersides of your thighs, forcing your body to bend how he wanted as his voice curved all into your ear.

"Tell me something," He husked heavily, his hair framing your body with the way it fell out all messily. "How many cocks do you actually enjoy taking, hm?"

You choked.

Sure, men had asked you questions like that before but... most weren't too concerned with the others that you'd been with.

Cunt clenching around him, "I-I... I don't know-, nngh!"

At that, Geto had lifted himself just enough to grab ahold of your face like he'd done earlier, staring your dead in the eyes whilst his hips came rocking down into you—cock fucking the air right out of your lungs. "Well, when you make faces like that... I can't help but feel like mine is the only correct answer, no?"

It was your first night with the man and yet, you knew for a fact you had him right were you wanted him. A few have gotten addicted to you in the past, sure. But their pockets never aligned with their desires.

Not like Geto's did.

He eventually emptied himself into you, and wound up leaving you with a tip large enough to prevent you from working at all if you wished it so.

Then he became a recurring customer. Actually, scratch that, Geto Suguru became the recurring customer (for a while, anyway).

If you were with someone, he'd have them quickly dismissed and pay three times whatever the person you were with had been charged plus some just to make it happen.

Not only that, but he also showed up unmasked after his first night with you. You're unsure why exactly he did that when all this did was bring about attention to you.

Words of your successfully seductive nature spread all across the lands because of him, reaching places you never could've imagined for yourself.

...Such as the Fire Nation.

Or, more specifically, the Fire Nation's palace.

——

With Geto highlighting your sexual talents, you got new clients of all sorts. Other well-renowned jujutsu sorcerers, the most talented of benders from varying nations, etc.

The madam of your brothel helped you to maintain appearances, slowly viewing you differently over time, and eventually realizing that you were becoming her most starred worker—keenly peeping the investment she'd have to put into you in order to keep this flow of high societal members coming.

Your older garments, albeit nothing wrong with them, were quickly replaced with new silks that were more intricate and softer—fitting for a woman of your stature now. Your room had been moved higher within the building, farther from the bumbling noise of the common floor, and closer to those who could afford the best discretion.

Even the way your coworkers spoke to you had shifted. Some interacted with you whilst carrying awe in their eyes, others moving with resentment.

But through all this, Geto kept coming back, continued to remain your most devoted and loyal client.

That is, until Fire Lord Zuko waltzed in one night.

You were tucked into the comforts of your room when he'd visited the brothel, deaf to the commotion occurring just beyond your door.

Whispers flooded the hallways just outside, along with shocked gasps, attemptive passing touches, and failed glances of seduction as he made his way towards your room. Then came one firm knock to your door, the sound loud enough to startle you a bit.

You abandoned whatever it was you were tending to and made haste in approaching the door. As you moved to open it, you were left star-stuck from the sight of regal fabrics alone. Before you even looked up to see who was under said fabrics, you felt your heart lurch in your chest.

Then you peeked upwards and gasped rather animatedly, the folded fan you had in your hand fluttering to the floor. "L-Lord Zuko," You stammered in shock.

It was instantaneous the way you let your head lower into a rightful bow after catching the slightest shift in his brow, to which his face had lightened up a little in surprise.

Then came the tenderness of his voice, "You... don't have to do that." Zuko breathed, moving to lightly take your hands into his own.

You lifted your chin back up shortly after, blinking all dumbfoundedly at the man, "But..." As your words trailed off, he was firm in holding both your gaze and your hands.

His skin was warm against yours, eyes gorgeous in their golden hue, and long black hair falling loose to frame some of his tall figure. It was clear that here—in this brothel with you—there was no veil of inherent royalty between you and him.

The burn scar that twisted his left eye and cheek remain bare for you to take all the way in. It was unreal to have the Fire Lord standing right in front of you like this. One could only dream of such a thing, truly.

Within the spark of a moment that dwindled between the both of you, he let himself unconsciously lean a little closer to you. Husking a soft-spoken, "I'm not the first of royal status to pay you a visit, am I?" He asked.

You cleared your throat, "No, no, of course not."

Then you let your hands depart from his and you took a step back, moving your arm out to gesture him into entering your bed chambers. Zuko seemed to be delighted by the way you regained your comfort thus far, his shoulders relaxing as he inched forward.

Just before his foot fully passed the doorway, he paused and cut his eye back over his shoulder. Everyone who he'd passed whilst making his way here had been watching that entire little interaction, but the moment Zuko looked back at them all, they'd flinched and scrammed to return to whatever mindless tasks they'd been busy with before.

With the hallway cleared from a mere glance—with the exception of one or two fire nation guards—he let out a short breath through his nose and then turned to enter your quarters, the ends of his fashionably red and gold attire fluttering behind his every step.

You shut the door behind him and pressed your forehead against it for a moment. Your heart was pounding with every lengthy second that dragged by.

Fire Lord Zuko is standing in your room.

Fire Lord Zuko is standing in your room.

Fire. Lord. Zuko. is standing. in your room.

How do you even-

"Miss..?" He calls out almost sweetly, unintentionally making you flinch out of your thoughts.

You gulp, swirling around to face him only to swirl yourself right into his chest.

When had he gotten so close?

Your hands fly up to steady yourself—lightly grabbing onto him—and you squeeze your eyes shut, "My apologies, my lord..." You mumble, "As you can see, your arrival has startled me greatly."

Something soft leaves his lungs as his hands carefully meet your arms, "Why's that?" Fuck, his voice was so warm.

Your eyes bat themself open before moving up to meet with his. "...Are you seriously asking me that?" You blurt out.

Zuko stares at you an awkward moment.

He obviously wasn't used to having anyone speak so casually to him, and while he somewhat expected it before coming into this, it still manages to catch him off guard.

Leading him to let out a harmless scoff, "Pardon me for my confusion, miss. I just thought you'd be used to nobles visiting you by now. I've heard the rumors, after all."

You stare right back at him before tilting your head cluelessly, "Rumors?"

Zuko’s eyes skim over every inch of your face, appreciating the lack of space between your body and his already. Then he smiles ever so slightly, "You don't even know what people speak of you, huh?"

Your head shakes.

"They say you're the best," He explains steadily, lifting a hand to whisk a single strand of hair away from your face, "That a single night with you is enough to heal a broken heart of any sorts."

"Does that imply that your heart is recently broken, my lord?" You tease.

His hand halts for a second. Then his grin deepens, "It's not. I'm uh... I'm only reiterating what I've heard of you."

Playfully rolling your eyes, "Well, those rumors of me are wildly dramatic."

His eyebrow raises as if to challenge your claims, “Are they?"

You stand your ground, "I do whatever is asked of me and I get paid, there's nothing more to it."

Zuko doesn’t even try to hide the way he doesn’t quite believe you. Something threading on smug flickers across his expression whilst his thumb maps out the side of your face, drawing itself down towards your mouth.

You get lost in his touch faster than you can even help yourself. Everything about Zuko is just warm—there’s hardly another way to put it. His voice is velvety and tender on your ears, never too much bass or aggressiveness in the words that leave him.

In fact, it’s the exact opposite.

Every syllable slides off his tongue with this crowned elegance that somehow doesn’t ever strike your eardrums as too entitled or belittling in any way. "And yet word of your reputation alone has led me to you." Zuko says, the tip of his thumb finally greeting your bottom lip.

The gloss resting there makes him mouth out the word pretty and you feel your breath hitching, as if his compliment weighed far more than any other you’d ever received.

"For reasons far beyond me,” You murmur in response as he thumbs your lips apart slowly.

Zuko’s hand gathers the rest of your chin into his hold to lift your head further up and he spreads your lips apart from one another fully as he whispers, "Your humbleness is honorable, sweetheart."

Something in your chest flips right then.

Sweetheart.

A nickname you’ve heard time ‘n time again. A nickname you should be used to hearing by now.

But when it comes from him…

The look in your eyes change as you push your mouth against the pad of his thumb, “I could show you some other honorable things, my lord.”

His brow furrows and you hear a breath escape him, having hitched somewhere in his throat. “That's what I'm here for, but I'm not sure honorable is the right… word...” Zuko trails off, quickly getting enamored in the way you move your mouth to take in his thumb.

He’s not entirely a stranger to seduction, but it didn’t take long for him to figure someone like you should be something much more than a mere brothel worker. If this was something you truly took passion in—surely becoming his concubine would be much more fitting.

And with your tongue rounding his thumb in a manner meant to imitate the way it later would his cock, Zuko knows he’ll be returning to this brothel many times before he’s even half way satisfied with indulging in you.

He soon plucks his thumb from your mouth and moves to grab ahold of your face, tipping his head opposite of yours, and then leaning in as if to kiss you.

Zuko slows himself just short of his lips colliding with yours and you nearly whine at the teasing gesture. The man lets your breaths mingle and swirl into one another, exchanging waves of intimacy prior to engaging in the real thing.

Then, just to work you right up, he smirks and utters, “You want it?” as if you weren’t already a melting mess of need in his palms. He didn't realize it then, but you could tell this whole thing was new to him in one way or another.

You nod almost stupidly though, “Please?”

Zuko’s lips slip down onto yours and both of you hum into the kiss almost immediately. He’s holding your face like you’re the most dearest thing to him and you’re reeling in the fact that you’re kissing the Fire Lord himself.

And then in a matter of minutes the both of you go from tentative kisses and gentle moans to the tugging of clothing and a fiery handling of one another.

Zuko very nearly shreds your robes to ash just to get his hands on your bare skin—his touches eager as he soon has your tits fondled perfectly within his palms while still working your mouth over with his own.

He’d kiss you until you were breathless and clinging to him for more, ignoring how your hands tried to dip down for his cock, and smoothly bringing his mouth down to your chest.

His lips cupped one of your nipples before you had time to react, sucking and tugging on the perky bud with much fervor. “Mmmgnh,” Zuko hummed against you whilst rolling his tongue around in pleasureful little circles.

The first night with him was nearly as fast as the first night with Geto had been. Nearly.

There were little differences between the two men when they were with you. Both seemed eager and happy to please you more than they did themselves.

Zuko spent an almost concerning amount of time slobbering against your tits before even thinking of pulling his dick out. And once he did free himself from the restraints of his regal clothing, you’d already been laid down on the mattress in the particular position he planned on taking you in.

You laid on your stomach—body decorated and smothered in all sorts of markings induced from Zuko’s incessant mouth—and he was soon positioning his thighs around your own with his cock swinging out just above your ass.

When Zuko was especially turned on, bits of steam would puff out from his nose. A cute fact of which you come to pick up on over time, of course.

Sometimes you’d feel said steam caress your back when he took you from behind as he was now. The balmy head of his long cock would prod at your weepy pussy lips before he’d ease himself in, and by then, he was already a mess.

You’d push your hips back against him and he’d nearly lose his balance above you, a short huff that sounds dangerously close to a whine slipping right out of his lungs.

“So beautiful…” He’d coo, noticing how you shudder under the heated touch of his fingertips as they traveled the curve in your spine. Then he’d flatten his hand somewhere in the center of it and force your arch to deepen as he humped his dick into your wetly ringing cunt.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head instantly and drool danced out the side of your mouth along with a moan of his name, “F-Fuuck, Zuko.”

He adored the sound—felt himself growing wildly enamored by it with each time it dangled off of your tongue. The rumors about you were nothing compared to feeling you.

Your walls sucked him in to the hilt without him even having to move much, clenching around his cock in rhythmic motions that had his mind going blank for moments at a time. Zuko was thankful he’d had you in prone bone, otherwise you’d see just how red ‘n pink his cheeks had colored over just from fucking you.

Even so, he couldn’t control the sounds he let out. The way he’d grunt and then thrust as if to distract you from it, loving how you continued to gasp out directly after.

Up until you’d angled your head back to look at him, a gorgeously cockdrunk look dazzling over your glossy eyes. He’d never seen something so sinfully beautiful in his life.

Zuko’s hips were snapping down into you faster than he realized, his hand moving to your chin to force your head further back the moment you tried to look away from him. The nerve you had to give him a taste of such a perfect expression just to hide it from him seconds later.

How rude.

His body craned down and his face was mere centimeters from yours as his cockhead thrashed against the inner depths of your cunt. The two of you panted and moaned in sync, his jaw slacking from how good it felt to be inside you whilst fucking you into making that addictive expression.

It wasn’t until he was getting close that you felt his balls smack smack smacking! against your skin harder, and the faint smell of something burning coming from somewhere to your left.

There’d been incidents in the past—especially with fire benders—where silk sheets had been burnt within the brothel. You were no stranger to the scent, you knew exactly what it was without having to place your eyes on it.

Even so, your head ached to turn and locate the source of the fiery smell, but Zuko wasn’t having it. His veins trailing his cock throbbed and he groaned out all loudly as he kept your head in place with a steeling grip.

Huffing, “Shit-, i-ignore it.” as he continued on, despite the smell getting stronger.

You gasped and your body was conformed entirely to his hold on you, “But-, ah! You’ll burn something, my—“

“Say my name,” The Fire Lord demanded all of a sudden, his brow pressing inward as frustration built up across his face.

“Zuko,” You whined, “The sheets will—“

Again cutting you off, he tipped your head further up and swallowed up your words by kissing you. You struggled to kiss him back properly because of how mean his hips were coming down on you, but you tried your best.

When he finally pulled his mouth from yours, you saw how blissed-out his eyes had been. “Ignore the burning, focus on my cock. I know how to-, fuck.. how to control myself. No fires will be—god, you feel so good—c-caused… I promise.”

Even as he tried to reassure you, he was actively burning a hole into your favorite sheet set. Of course, these could be easily replaced by him—but it was the principle of it all, y’know?

His cock twitched inside you in sync with the flickering flames coming from his fingertips. You began to drool and he panted above you, letting his grunts and faint whines speak for his feels of pleasure instead of his tongue. The bedding was left singed due to his flames but you didn't mind it too much.

At least, considering how he most definitely pays you more than you ever could've imagined for yourself.

He ended up cumming somewhere on your back, with his dick going flaccid just between your ass cheeks shortly after. Your head fell down into the sheets and you found yourself smiling at the fact that the Fire Lord just fucked you.

You didn't mean to brag buuut... no one else could say that happened to them!

Those flames of his died out just after he calmed down and he soon fell to your side, his eyes going up to the ceiling to relish in what he'd just done.

Zuko had been stressed for weeks, months even, but that first night in the brothel with you was more than enough to motivate him for the next upcoming days.

Which is precisely why he kept coming back. Over and over and over and over again until he was just as recurring of a customer as Geto had been.

——

This routine of yours was manageable enough for a time. A long time, in fact.

Months went by before your time spent with Geto and Zuko separately ever conflicted with one another. But, of course, it was only a matter of time before they'd cross paths.

The beloved brothel of yours was alive 'n thriving with its usual throng up until a servant had come banging on your door all urgently, calling your name out with her voice shaking as if freightened.

Her voice quakes from outside your door, "Two arrivals, miss—L-Lord Zuko and.. and Lord Geto. They're both requesting y-"

"Send them in," You call back to her before her statement could even find its end.

"Together?" She squeaked.

You finally approached the door and move to swing it open, flashing a her a gorgeously perfected smile at the frightened lady, "Why, of course."

"...But miss, they're both demanding to see you separately." She warned.

"No matter," Your hand moved to wave off her words, "If they want me as badly as they so claim, they'll come to me regardless of who else decides to do the same."

The servant bats her lashes at you a few times, by far deeming you as the craziest lady currently occupying this brothel. It's not that serving two clients at the same time was uncommon, but the fact that you wanted to take in your highest paying clients—two men of very high status—at the same time...?

You had guts. Perhaps the attention you'd been receiving lately had gone to your head? Suppose Lord Zuko set this entire place ablaze simply because he doesn't feel like sharing, what then—

"The longer you stand there staring at me, the more impatient my gentlemen grow," You remind the poor servant, snapping her out of her gaze.

She blinks repetitively before bowing sharply and then turning on her heels. Then you watch her rush down the hall to go fetch your desired men.

You disappeared back into your room shortly after and patiently waited for your door to fly back open, this time with your sought-after guests. It'd been quite some time since you'd participated in a threesome so, part of you was definitely thrilled at the prospect.

And luckily for you, Geto nor Zuko cared much—or at all, really—about who the other guest coming to see you was. They even came bursting into your room together, Zuko first and Geto following closely behind him.

It was obvious without a word that they'd had enough time on the walk towards your quarters to discuss what was to take place. You could tell by the way they came in all silent.

Before this, you'd known both men to become more talkative over time when they came to see you. Geto would preach to you about his beliefs that you definitely didn't care about and Zuko would spend his free time with you to vent about the weight of royal responsibilities resting on his shoulders.

You enjoyed these things from them, of course. But at the end of the day, you had a role to play. A job to do.

And tonight—despite the both of them entering your room together—was absolutely no different. It was here nor there what few words were exchanged between the time it took for them to get themselves undressed and for you to figure out how exactly they'd decided on sharing you tonight.

All you know is that one moment they were slowly taking off their garments as you watched patiently—awaiting some sort of direction—and the next, Zuko's mouth was on yours.

You wanted to ask them how they decided on who'd get to do what first, especially considering that they're two entirely different people but neither of them gave you a chance to do so.

Luckily enough, your question is answered somewhere after Zuko kisses you until you were a drooling mess between your thighs and Geto lapped away at said drooling mess.

The room was heavy-, nearly clouded with the mixed scent of arousal and sweat, sheets rumpled up from the rapidly escalating actions. First you were between making out with Zuko while Geto did the same with your cunt, and then you found yourself positioned between them.

It was in that same position—arched over like some slut as Geto moved himself behind you, hand gripping over your ass whilst his cock rubbed between your cheeks—that the two finally started releasing more than a moan or a grunt.

You'd argue that Geto started it off by saying, "Ah, look at you.." after gliding his cock neatly in between your sodden folds. He thrust forward once and watched how your ass came bouncing against his sharp pelvis. Then he huffed, "Such a sweet girl, always sucking me in like you missed me-, fuck. Did you miss me, gorgeous?"

Your jaw fell open to reply to him but you were crudely cut off by Zuko, who was busy nudging his cock in between your lips. When your eyes lifted up, you saw how he had a bulky arm over his face as if to his his expression from you. Even so, his other hand was busy working his shaft down the center of your tongue—as if whatever Geto was saying to you wasn't worthy of any sort of response.

You found it funny at first, but then they started to go back 'n forth.

Zuko was matching the pace Geto was quick to set in a matter of seconds, your body left to wobble back and forth between them.

"No one pleases me like you do," Zuko murmured, the sudden praise catching you by surprise. "Fuck-," his voice pitches and you caught how his eyes fluttered. Then his hips ever so carefully grind forward, his balmy tip pressing a smear of precum down your throat and leaving a slopped smooch at the back of it.

Your cheeks hollowed out then and Geto was left to feel the way your cunt suddenly soaked around his dick. His hands latched onto your hips and you shuddered in pleasure upon feeling his fingers ground into your skin as his snapped forward a little sharper.

It was like he was competing with Zuko—silently trying to figure out who could hit the best spots inside you and say the right things just to get you wetter. Unfortunately for the crowned man in front of you, Geto's sneakily slipping a hand under you to swish the pads of his fingers over your clit 'n bring you to a quick orgasm on his cock.

Boasting about it directly after as a crooked smile crafts itself into his face, "There's that sloppy mess I was lookin' for. Shit-, I love the way you feel when you cum on me like that."

"Mmgh-, mmpfh!" You're mumbling against Zuko's dick. What exactly you were trying to say is lost to both men, as they mutually assume you were simply moaning.

Zuko's attention is caught by the man behind you though. His eyes flicking over to him as his arm drops from his face and he frowns. Mumbling, "She only did that cause of me..."

"Oh yeah?" Geto looks up immediately, cocking his head left while keeping his girth dormant inside your gummy walls. He gives you some time to focus more on sucking Zuko off properly, and delightedly enjoys in the way your pussy smothers his cock in a thin shimmery layer of release. "And what exactly makes you think that, your highness?" He mocks.

The Fire Lord rolls his eyes, "Well, she's—ah, heyyy," he looks down at you, "At least give me a second to t-talk, won't you?"

You drunkenly peer up at him, his cock still bulging in between your swollen lips. A trickle of saliva drips down and falls in between the valley of his balls, leading Zuko to shiver as his hand grips onto your head tightly.

Doing his best to ignore you anyway, his attention moves to Geto again. "As I was trying to say... she likes-, hah, getting her throat fucked," He points out with an intentionally jerky thrust of his hips, leading your jaw to ache for a split second from how deep in your trachea he was reaching.

Geto pulls himself out of you, dick flitting up into the air with droplets of your arousal hanging from it in dewy little strings. He glances at the sinful display for a second and uses his hand to grab his cock and tap it against your ass a couple times.

You let out another hum or two against Zuko in reaction.

To which Geto chuckles, "Yeahhh, I don't think she came because of you at all. But, I'll let you think that."

Zuko all but pouts upon hearing that. It was almost as though his honor or something was being contested with those words. So, he releases a chuff and practically snatches his length out of your warm facial cavern. "I don't take kindly to being challenged," He claims, ignoring your mouth that's steadily pressing forward for more.

"Nobody's challenging you, Lord Zuko." Geto shot back before moving his hands up into a surrendering gesture and shutting his eyes calmly. "Alls I'm saying is that she came on my cock, not yours-," His eyes opened slowly and his arrogant expression fell, "Uh, what're you doing?"

"Proving you wrong," Zuko answered casually as if he weren't currently hauling you up into his arms and spreading you out into a particularly debauched full nelson. You feel the firmness of his muscles rubbing against all sorts of crevices and nooks of your skin, only making you soak more.

His arms had hooked under your knees, folding your body into that perfect hold—your arms pinned behind your back, and plush thighs spread out widely. Your pussy was on full display, poor folds puffy 'n wet, exposed to Geto's hungry gaze as he watched intently.

"Like..." Geto blinks once-, twice upon seeing you spread out so broadly. "Like that?"

Zuko tuts, "Obviously."

You're squirming, naturally, but neither of them pay any mind to that either. Not your first—nor last—time in this position but fuck if it hadn't been a whiiiiiile since you'd been held up in such a precarious position.

"Hah. Fine then," Geto moves to slouch back against the bed, "Fuck her good, Fire Lord. Show me how uh," He nearly forgets his wording just from watching the other man's cock nudge up into position, "...Royal seed marks its territory, yeah?"

"Tch." Oh, Zuko was so annoyed.

With the way they were acting now, you hardly understood how the hell they agreed to share you in the first place. There's no way—

Something warmer pressing against your entrance, warmer than anything you've felt before. It wasn't an uncomfortable temperature or anything but there was this certain heat to it that made you flinch deeper into Zuko's grasp on you.

Then came his voice at the shell of your ear, "Feel that?" he whispered, hands holding you steady.

You shuddered, "Y-Yeah. Why're you so-, ah!"

He was pushing up into you before you had much time to question him. Zuko didn't need questions, he just needed to be snug inside that slobbering pussy of yours, stuffing you full of himself, and soon having you cream around him far more than you did on Geto.

...And if it took making his cock feel significantly different than Geto's did inside you via slight manipulation to the heat surrounding it, then so be it! You'd never have a moment long enough to question it anyways.

Y'know, since you're much too busy getting fucked dumb on his cock shortly after its slotted inside you. You're promptly displayed in front of Geto—who couldn't stop himself from tugging at his dick to the sight even if he tried—and your body feels almost tingly as Zuko plunges in and out of you.

He so easily lifted you up 'n down his cock, your pussy struggling to keep up with the pace as it squelched and left slicks of creaming arousal alllll over him.

The position allowed Zuko to hit deeper than he ever had before—arguably even deeper than Geto had too. Filthy juices slicked his cock, drooling down to his heavy balls whilst he bounced you in his arms.

You found your orgasm more times than you can count in that position but it took Zuko a bit to get there himself since he'd put so much focus and energy into getting you to cum on him harder than you did on Geto.

And even after, by the time he's obscenely thrusting his own load into you, Geto still looks as though he's got something up his sleeve.

The cult leader had spilt into his hand already but that mattered little, as he had one more thing in mind in order to win this imaginary competition he'd set.

Zuko pulled out of you and lowered your used body down gently onto the bed right in front of Geto. A mix of your release and his seed leaked out from inside you. He moved a hand to the top of your head to pat you softly and wiped sweat from his brow before casting Geto a glance, "There. I win."

The sly man smirked, "Did you?"

"I did," Zuko confirms, shrugging. "There's nothing else you can do to—"

He is oh-so-unfortunately cut off by Geto moving forward to nestle in between your legs.

Zuko clears some shakiness out of his throat, "You... You're not about to do what I think you are... r-right?"

Geto merely winks at the man before pushing your jittery legs apart. Your back falls towards Zuko, who easily catches you, and is left to watch Geto angle downwards.

Your pussy glistened with the evidence of Zuko spilling into you, a milky white left to leak from your hole. "How pretty," was the last thing Geto murmured before he did the unimaginable and dove in.

His tongue came in flat and broad as it lapped at your folds, just nasty in the way he scooped up the mingled folds onto it.

He sucked appreciatively on your cunt but you were whimpering above him, tugging at his hair and then pushing at him because your head's all confused with pleasure and the back to back stimulation. Geto's tongue swished around your clit before he sucked on it, and you gasped.

Your hand flew somewhere before you were clutching onto both Zuko's arm and Geto's head as the man cleaned you.

Zuko transfixed on the sight for a long timed before you heard him say, "Doing something so filthy for her pleasure..." He managed a smile in between his words, "How honorable."

Geto plucked his mouth away then, just to respond. "What's with you and this honor thing, huh?"

"Just take the compliment," Zuko hummed.

"Give me a normal one and perhaps I will."

"That is a normal one."

You snort wearily, "Zuko, my dear, there is... hahhh, n-nothing normal about you and your fixation on things being honorable."

To which he puffs, "Whatever."

tags (1/2):

@yenayaps @linakqra @rzaau @devileyeswriting @drakexl0verr @sukubusss @rubyluna09 @tw0w0 @yulissacastillo11 @sud778

@mua-for-now @helloxkittylo @pearlydays @cuffiescariche @hiromihigurumaswife @rotheboattohell @kewpie-kewpie @buntimefoxy @the-izumimidoriya-obsidium @miss-f0rtun3

@gracewinston @momentomoribitch @mortallyshadysoul @ashsummer @theclosetismadeofglass @tojisrightfoot @iiakithegoat @ria-outofcontext @aldebrana @orangetabbys-world

@katsunoir @penelopeguin @m1hawkkk @sickof3lli @michiiposts @kvsqkiii @kashimeowr @hithere2323 @fave-anime-fics @greatestearthhbender

——

To backtrack, you do this annually.

No, not the whole monster fucking thing but, exploring abandoned and presumably haunted locations in search of one. This year was no different.

Today’s find is quite the eye-catcher. Hidden deep past a forest you’ve searched up and down prior to this discovery sat an old, rumored-to-be haunted manor.

In terms of your monster hunting, you found that the best results came about in the creepiest of places. Which is why there's a sense of longing for the rumors of your currently desired location to be true. After all, even though you've been hunting ghosts 'n monsters for years, you've still yet to ever quite meet one.

Many laugh at your little hobby, throwing names at you and calling you delusional for thinking you'll ever find either of the two. But you digress, one of your friends told you stories about how she'd summoned a ghost before and now you're fully convinced that you'll be able to find one yourself.

You didn't want to take the same (lazy) route as her and summon any sort of creature or spirit, you much perfered to return to her with a unique story of your own about how one came to you. Pun intended.

That, and you'd also like to go back to all those threads online and rant about how utterly wrong they are. Within the community of people who believe in ghost, monsters, and other things of that nature, there are those who then spread lies about how they probably can't or don't know how to have sex.

The first time you read some bullshit about that, you felt offended as if you were a monster or ghost yourself reading it. You knew these non-human beings had the capability to fuck better than the living, you just couldn't quite prove it yet.

Which brings you back to now, as you approach the massive solitary manor with a little glimmer of hope in your eyes, finding yourself in awe of how hulking and crooked the building is—as if it had been sulking from the lack of life for the past century or so.

Were there a few caution tapes and signs that explicitly said ‘Do Not Enter’ just a tree line back from where you were now? Yes. Did you completely disregard those warnings and continue with your exploration like always? Of course!

You pace down the long dirt path that leads up to the wrought iron gate that’s all rusted with the unfortunate hues of being forgotten. Everything about the scenery was perfect. The way the sky colored itself a fall-seasoned gray that’s washed-out and teasing on rain, only for water to never leave those shroudy clouds above, brought peace to your heart.

A strong inhale of the dampened earth around you that smelt of buried mysteries and wonder flows through your senses and brings a smile to your face. There were frosty breezes slipping past the thick fabrics of your sweater and making you shudder under its chill. Perfect.

You had a few items with you in a small bag that dangled off of your shoulder, within it a camera, flashlight, your phone—that surely lacked service this far out—and a granola bar that you found stashed away in your pantry at home. One of which you’re rather questionable of but, you needed the food just in case your monster or ghost decided not to show 'n give you something else to munch on…

As you push through those rusty old gates, which cry out loud groans of protest at the sudden movement, your eyes only get wider. There it was, the manor sitting itself on a slope, outer walls all wrapped in dried greenery where ivy had given up its decorative glow and chose a more gloomy appearance, and three stories of promise that silently begged for your impending exploration.

The gorgeous masterpiece of decay that stood before your very eyes screamed horror and haunting under the darkening sky above. Those washed-out clouds were steadily growing heavier with grey and yet it only excited you more. Perhaps the key to luring out a monster from such a spooky home was carrying some type of fear.

Maybe if you walked in scared, the being you were looking for would come running toward you, eager to frighten you more.

You shuffle through your bag for a moment and tug out your camera just to capture a couple pictures because you had a really good feeling about this place and wanted to have a few things to remember it by. 

As you soon skip up onto the broad porch, the wood immediately exhales dust from your weight meeting it, causing you to cough a couple times and wave a hand out to clear the airy dirt. 

Then your fingers trail over the doorknob for a moment before you give it an eager twist and push forward, earning a wail from its aged hinges as the door swings open slowly. You’re met with thick views of darkness and end up having to squint a little just to make out a few silhouettes. You quickly fish for your flashlight and flick it on, revealing the interior to your curious gaze.

Dust is in the air, as expected, and you don’t waste another second before walking in and letting the door creepily shut on its own behind you with a heavy thud. Not that you flinch or anything. Instead, the sound of that heavy slam makes you smile as you hope that’s a sign you're not alone.

The air smells of age and abandonment along with a hint of something oddly sweet, like decaying flowers or something of the sort. 

You let your flashlight sweep across the entry way and take in the warped wooden planks decorating the flooring, a few pieces missing entirely and leaving holes that revealed thick cobwebs. Then there’s a grand staircase that curves upward all gracefully that’s also covered in cobwebs and looking as if it were much more appealing in a time distant from now. Lastly is about half a chandelier hanging from above, holding onto the torn ceiling just barely, that your light glimmers over faintly as you shine it up.

Glancing back at the shut front door, you cock a brow, “Surely the lil’ door slam wasn’t the best you’ve got to offer me?” You ask out loud, as if you knew someone or something was around here listening to you. Though, this was also a bit of a habit of yours.

While you never got responses to any of your abandoned-house narrations, it was still a habit that helped to fill the silence that often felt as though it were alive and watching you.

When your words go unanswered through a lack of movement from anywhere, you shrug it off and then begin to make your way around the house. You start on the first floor and snap photos of every room you enter, the loud flash and shutter being the only thing to fill the deafening silence of the home as it echoes throughout the eerie hallways.

Eventually, you make your way up to the second floor—y’know, after almost falling through a couple of shambled stairs and becoming a pretty decoration for the basement floor—and explore the rooms up there. Nothing of note really happens (aside from the few items weirdly falling off walls and shelves after you walked past them) until you enter the master bedroom that looked as though someone of royalty could have lived there once upon a time.

Even though you’ve never been inside of a castle to really compare bedroom sizes accurately…

You still felt like the bedroom was rather massive for any normal person to have once been occupying! That, and it was the only room within the entire manor that wasn’t as worn and torn as everything else. Hell, there was a lot less dust on the furniture and nothing was broken inside. It was almost like someone was living–

The temperature in the room suddenly drops to a degree so low your next breath fogs out in front of your lips, leaving you to shiver as your eyes go darting about the bedroom. This wasn’t it, was it? The moment you'd meet a ghost or monster? Or a mix of both??

Despite the frosty air causing your body to shudder and your hands to hug your arms, you felt yourself growing excited already and couldn’t even try to fight off the grin, “Okay, temperature drop… does this mean you’re close and ready to stop teasing me with fallen items like before,” You say, hopefully to the presence in the room with you. It’d be really embarrassing if you were ignored again, “Or are you still too shy to show your fa–”

“You’re trespassing, human.” A low, irritated and gravelly voice drawls out into the air from just a few feet behind you.

The chill you feel running up your spine now is nothing like what you’d felt due to the cold moments ago. No, no, this chill is much more one of warmth and raw fervor. That voice was heavy with a raspy bass and years of being trapped in purgatory—which had you chewing on your lower lip already.

You take a second to collect yourself and get a hold on your emotions before slowly turning around and…

Well, no one’s there.

Batting your lashes a couple times, you quickly feel disappointment stirring up inside you. You were honestly looking forward to finding a monster more than you were a ghost, and if the latter happened to be invisible—that'd ruin the whole fun of it!

Pouting, your flashlight lowers around the empty air as you make an attempt at forcing the darkness into producing a visible ghost via disgruntled glares.

“Real’ cliche, y’know,” You hum. If you’d gotten a response the first time then surely that meant your talking into the void was a step into the right direction, at least. “What’s next, are you gonna make some lights flicker?” You challenge with a little scoff as your feet carefully carry you deeper into the room.

And lo and behold, a light off in the left corner of the room does spark on for just a moment before crackling off with a loud pop! as the glass surrounding it goes breaking and small bits fly over. The pieces clatter to the floor and the flinch it earns from you left you embarrassed knowing that’s yet another sign you’re not alone.

Hell, not only were you not alone but you were also being watched and listened to.

You quickly remind yourself that this is exactly what you wanted and then shake yourself out of the momentary freight. “Hah, funny…” You utter dryly, hoping your (seemingly) ghastly company isn’t finding this short game of cat and mouse humorous. “But uh, if you’re trying to scare me, it’s not gonna work. I literally came here to talk to you.”

Technically you came to speak to any supernatural being, and not specifically the one haunting your surroundings but, if you could make the damn thing feel special for a moment long enough to compel it into showing itself, then a little white lie was worth the try.

"Stop being such a wuss and just show yourself already," You request, turning your flashlight every which way in hopes of spotting something. "I don't bite."

"I'm sure you don't," That same voice comes bellowing out, this time from your right. When you glance over and redirect the lighting, there's finally something. Similar to the infamous Cheshire Cat, there is but a mouth revealed in the air all mystically, "But you do speak far too much. It's no wonder you are here alone."

Then the mouth poofs and your eyes frantically wander around the area to spot it again. You were getting so close to officially meeting a ghost and yet you're stuck with one that had the nerve to tease his revelation.

You continue to aim your flashlight around. "What's wrong with me being here alone? Are you implying I didn't have any friends to bring along with me or something??" You ask, "Cause if so, you'd be wrong."

If anyone else were watching this entire interaction, they'd be fully convinced you'd gone crazy seeing as you were literally speaking to thin air.

There's a thunder of chuckling from behind you and your entire back suddenly feels warm-, hot, even. Followed by which is a rather sensual brush of air against your neck and that voice comes rumbling out hard enough to vibrate throughout the space around you, "Would I?" He purrs huskily.

It's embarrassing how addictive the sound of his voice is becoming. Gulping, your head angles off to the side before you whirl around fully in hopes of laying your eyes on who you're speaking to. Nothing fills the space there but, you could feel his unmoving presence now—as if a pair of eyes were burning into your very soul.

"Yeah, you would," You claim, "I came here alone on my own accord."

"Mmh," A sound of understanding thrums directly in front of you as a half-shrouded shadow finally begins to emerge from the nothingness. It's slow the way his frame comes into your line of sight, the edges of his towering body flickering all ghost-like at its ends and resembling that of burning candle wisps. “Then you’ve yourself to blame for what’s to become of you, tresspasser.”

Something blossoms deep within the pit of your stomach, almost like butterflies. Unfortunately for the increasingly attractive ghost in front of you, you weren’t exactly the type to see the difference between a threat and flirting.

As you fight the urge to smile, his entire figure is revealed to you and… holy shit.

Standing at a staggering six-, no, over seven feet tall is a scowl-faced monster who looked like he wanted to kill you already. Two muscular arms cross over his beefy, inked chest, while another pair of arms have found themself on the purchase of his hips to rest upon. His hands carried dark black paint across the nails and if you expected the description of this beast to stop there, you were oh-so-poorly mistaken.

To your everloving surprise, he also has four eyes that are all fixated on your starstucken frame, taking in every inch of you just as you were him. Then you look down and catch the wide-spread smirk that adorns the fucking mouth on his stomach. The rapacious bastard had two of everything! Surely this was the greed level of which the Bible discussed as a sin so heavily.

Blinking a few times, you catch the way his attire is all ancient and yet regally sitting on his carved hips, robes hanging low whilst his upper half remains completely bare to your hungry gaze. When you finally bring yourself to look up at his face again, you catch the crimson red in his eyes that glared at you so vexingly it almost turned you on, and the matching markings decorating his unfairly even, yet ghastly skin.

Water wastes no time welling up in your mouth at the raw sight of him despite how absolutely haunting he was standing right in front of you. He was so broad that his shadow swallowed you up entirely and seemed to capture the entirety of that pathetic little flashlight in your hands.

You had to be the world's luckiest person. The longer you stood in his presence, the more you understood that this was some weird inhumane blend of a being. Not a mere ghost and certainly monstrous in every way, this was your greatest dream come true.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” You’re breathing out without second thought, eyes widened in awe. “Here I was expecting something like a floating bedsheet and yet you’re…” Your words die out on your tongue as he thumps closer and leans down to you.

Mockingly, his head weighs to the side and he studies your admiring gaze carefully. “You are not frightened," He points out obviously with a confused brow, “Why?”

“Am I supposed to be?” You ask in return. “I told you I came here looking to talk to a ghost.”

The pink-haired male standing broodily before you narrows all of his eyes at you and his gaze seems to grow impossibly sharper. “I am more than a mere ghost,” He seethes out all thickly in annoyance. God, he was really hot… “Mind your tongue when addressing me, human.”

You’re the one cocking a brow and folding your arms now—the gesture rather endearing to someone of his size in comparison to you—and your eyes go rolling with a level of sassiness he finds distasteful. “You look like a mere ghost to me,” You scoff before sizing him up and down, “Hell, or at least as old as one…”

“Excuse me?” He drones out whilst a vein begins to color his sharp jawline with hot irritation, “You will address me correctly, woman. I am Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curs—“

“Yeah, yeah,” You cut off with a wave of your hand. The audacity of your demeanor threw him so off that he couldn’t quite figure out if he wanted to tear you limb from limb or fling you out of the house. “I’ve got what kinda monster you are down already—old, grouchy, and bitchless—just my type. No need for the extra introduction, Mr. King of whatever-the-fuck.”

Sukuna doesn’t think he’s ever found himself at a loss for words until this very moment. 

Genuinely, it was as though all his speech had fallen on deaf ears and he wasn’t used to that in the slightest. Now, it has been years since he’s last spoken to a human but surely your kind hasn’t deteriorated in intellect this much..? Could you not sense the danger that exuded off of his large stature? Were the double appendages and monster-appearance not enough to ward you off immediately?

If so, why the fuck not?

“You-,” The proper syllables in his mouth struggled to formulate for a moment. Then he replayed your statement in his head and his expression twitched. “Bitchless?” Sukuna repeats, confusion splaying out over his handsome face.

Snorting, you offer him a nod of your head, “Yeah, bitchless.” Then you gesture at his ancient attire, “You look like you haven’t seen pussy in decades.”

His lashes merely flutter over at the mouth you had on you and how ridiculously unfiltered it seemed to be. Well, that, and the way your lips curved and slid over one another as you spoke. Sukuna’s unsure why his many eyes zero in there as if he needed to watch your own voice slip out of you.

“And you’ve made this assumption based on..” His deep tone trails off for only a moment as he follows your gaze down to his clothes, “My attire? Traditional clothing leads you to believe I am… 'bitchless'?” Sukuna asks with a far too innocent curiosity weighing into his words. 

The term to describe his lack of women alone already sounded weird coming out of his mouth, all uncouth and unfamiliar to him.

“I mean, yeah.” You huff softly, “That and the way you’re talking-, are those four arms?” You interrupt yourself as if you’d been waiting to get that out ever since you set eyes on him. Then you’re adding on an eager, “Can I touch them?” whilst stepping forward.

Sukuna doesn’t move because the closing distance between the two of you meant nothing to him. “No, you may not-,” He’s answering without considering your words for even a second. Unfortunately for him, he’s been graced by the presence of the world’s most persisting woman; you—who slithers up close to him and reaches an arm out. To which he deadpans, “What are you doing.” as if demanding a direct response from you instead of questioning your actions.

You get close enough to him to feel the weird heat oozing off of his towering body, leaving you to wonder if all your presumptions about the supernatural had been wrong. You thought they were supposed to be cold. This one is everything but. 

Feeling his eyes still on you, “I just wanna get a closer look,” You clarify, “Pleeeease-“

“Do not whine unless provoked.” Sukuna scoffs, doing little to hinder his current loathing. “You will have your look, human, and then you will leave, yes?”

Ignoring his question entirely, you take the permission to study all four of his arms and then run with it. 

Your hands come up to feel along each one carefully, leaving you surprised by the fact that you can even do that considering you thought your touch would sink right through him. It was clear that he was far from dead, despite his haunting stature. He had some sort of ability to control the transparency of his body at will, so that let you know Sukuna specifically allowed his body to be solid just so you could feel on it.

“They’re so big,” You exclaim gently as your palms travel the expanses of his arms and earn a grunt from his throat.

Through this, you end up circling Sukuna and feeling just about every inch of his multiple appendages. The markings and muscles that carve out his body are almost enough to have you drooling (again).

When you make it to his front once more, your touch curves downward from his upper arms and trails over his collarbones before making a descent across his chest. He may be some sort of ghost-monster but he is very much alive in a certain sense. At least, alive enough for you to feel the rapid beating of his heart as your fingers splay over him, and alive enough for you to notice the jump in his low breathing once your fingertips graze his nipples.

Sukuna immediately catches the spark in your eyes when you realize his little flinch and he wastes no time in grabbing hold of your wrists. “Enough,” He warns, “You have felt and looked at me enough. Leave.”

Ignoring him again, your eyes simply dart down and then you hum, “So, four arms, four eyes, and a mouth on your stomach, huh? Does this mean you have two of everything?” You ask before looking up again.

A vein is settling into his forehead now. “Aside from legs, obviously, yes.” Sukuna answers in a tone low enough to rival a snarl.

Wrists still held captive by his larger hands, you nod. “Right, right…” You start out innocently. But—even though he’d only known you for a few minutes now—it was clear you were about to ask something else that’d only piss him off further. “Does that mean you have two assholes?”

“What?” Sukuna scoffs as he flings your wrists out of his grasp, causing you to stumble off to the side a little. Then he crosses his arms again, “No, I have two cocks.”

“Well that doesn’t make any sense but, whatever…” You deride with yet another roll of your eyes. Quickly adding a casual, “Are they big too?”

Any moment now his cursed body will allow him to kill you, surely.

He brings a hand up to pinch the slightly curved bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as he sighs, “Are you insulting me, human?”

“No, of course not!” You say quickly, waving your hands out. “I’m just curious, honestly!”

“Don’t you things have a saying about curiosity and how it kills,” Sukuna bores, gaze flicking over to you once more. When he notices the way you’re still sending him that glimmerful look, he tutts. “No,” He answers, “They are average size. Now leave.”

A brow of yours has never shot up faster, “Average sized for a behemoth like you or…” Your voice trails off as you slowly look down, quickly finding yourself staring rather openly at that downright slutty v-line of his and how veins decorate the center, trailing lower and then disappearing behind the hefty robe bundled up and resting at his hips. 

There was no way a being of his size had anything “average” in between his legs.

It’s not until you notice him stepping forward that all your senses grow rather alert again. Then comes his voice, completely weighted and thick with a sudden tension that has your spine stiffening, “If I show you, will you leave?”

“Probably not,” You reply jokingly to mask the heat that quickly sunk into your face at the sound of his bold words. 

And here you’d thought you’d be the only shameless one here…

Sukuna lets off a stiff groan when he hears your response as he continues his slow pacing toward you. To which you quickly backtrack, “Okay, okay, fine. Since you’re offering, I’ll leave after you show me.”

The distance between you two only grows smaller and you gulp profusely. The old floorboards beneath his feet didn’t creak nor grouse in the slightest under his bulky body and that served as more proof that he was very much a ghost, as if you needed any more by now.

“Good.” Sukuna’s tone draaags out of his body and you feel almost possessed as his next command leaves his slightly rose-toned lips, “Now sit.”

He ordered you so seamlessly that you almost felt like some kinda dog. “Pardon?” You chuckle nervously, “Y-You want me to sit on the floor?”

The monster can’t help the twitch of his lips as they curve upwards into a vicious smirk, “You want a proper look, don’t you?” He asks rhetorically. “Your best view of my cocks will be from down on your knees.” Sukuna claims.

You wanted to hate how stupidly wet his words got you just then but, how could you focus on that when you were too busy lowering yourself down onto your knees for him? The floor is cool against the fabric of your pants where your knees meet them and Sukuna waits until you are completely seated before he even starts moving. 

You barely even knew this creature and within only ten minutes of talking to him, he had you on your knees as he soon used his lower set of hands to pull at the stocky fabrics of his robes. Your eyes were as eager as ever, the look in them making something primal stir inside of the monster in front of you. It’d been so long since he’d laid with a woman and then you came along.

Dropped right at his doorstep too. How perfect.

Sukuna’s thick fingers pluck at his robes ever so slowly just so he could haul the tense moment out even longer. He knew you’d leave once he revealed himself to you so, part of him wanted to take this as gradually as possible. Your gaze never wavers and you’re catching every shuffle of the white fabric against his fingertips and the way they eventually drape off to the side just enough for you to see skin.

And the moment you do, you can’t help the gasp that jumps out of you. Lashes fluttering about, you’re left bewildered by the two large, fully erect cocks bobbing out from under those pesky robes that’d been peeled gracefully to the side like wet panties. Something pathetic threatens to exit you but, tugging your lower lip in between your teeth helps you keep that at bay.

“They’re hard…” You point out obviously whilst your head steadily begins to tip off to the side in awe. His upper cockhead is drooling profusely enough to challenge the saliva welling up inside your mouth right now, especially as your words hit the air.

Sukuna is still glaring down at you like he couldn’t be bothered with this tiresome situation, his top two arms neatly crossed all casually, and a knowing smirk returning to his expression again once he notices the way you’re looking at him. “They always are.” He explains to you.

When you look up again, you miss the way precum sprouts from the tip of his lower cock in reaction. “That must hurt, huh, big guy?” You whisper, knees shifting against the floor to grow closer.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were trying to remind yourself that you wanted to meet a monster. Not fuck one. 

Sukuna flashes a pouty scowl at you, amusement quickly wiped from his face as you carried the nerve to mock him. Something frustrated burned deep in the pit of his stomach the more he stared down at you.

Both of his dicks being paintfully hard just a few inches away from the same mouth he’d been gaping at before surely wasn’t helping his mind right now. And the fact that you still taunted him like he wasn’t engulfing the very space above you was downright infuriating.

Then you had the gall to look down at his erections again. Sukuna watches your lips quirk and he feels himself twitching. “Oh, you’re wet,” You purr teasingly as you lift your index towards his glistening tip.

His jaw tenses immensely and his brows meet, a heavy puff leaving his slightly flared nostrils, “I do not get, ‘wet’, woman.” He argues.

“But, your cocks are dripping,” You hum innocently with a point of your finger, “Look.” Then you unintentionally make contact with his tip, your skin slipping right over the dribbling mess currently leaking from the slit of his blushing head.

Sukuna’s lips part just barely and his voice is uncharacteristically softer, “That’s…”

He can’t find the words to finish that statement of his before you’re scooting all the way forward so that you’re properly in front of him, finger still rubbing faintly against his tip.

“I could help, if you want,” You offer.

His hands fidget slightly as he fights the overwhelming urge to take your head into his large palms and angle you as he pleases—a rush of desire to use your mouth overcoming his thoughts just that quickly. “I have not experienced pleasure from a human in centuries,” He tells you, “What makes you think you’re worthy of pleasing me?”

Blinking, “Perhaps the way you’re wetting up my finger right now?” You say with a chaste snort as you pluck said finger away to see the string of arousal hanging between his tip and your finger. Curiously, you quickly pop that finger into your mouth and suck on it with a little hum.

Sukuna’s brows shoot up in surprise after watching you do that, wondering what the hell got him to this point in his afterlife…

“Fine,” He grumps, finally using his lower set of hands to clasp your face into his palms. Your hands fall into your lap and he steps impossibly closer, feet coming up against the outer sides of your thighs as his cocks dangled over your face. Then Sukuna was pressing a fat thumb over your bottom lip and easing your mouth open, “Since you want to help me so badly, open up properly for me.”

A whine sinks right out of you—one of pure, satisfactory need. As your mouth broadens in width for what’s in front of you, you hardly get a moment to really process what you've gotten yourself into before a plump 'n searing head of wet precum is kissing the skin of your lip.

You keep your eyes up on Sukuna's silently degrading ones whilst your tongue lulls out of your mouth in slutty fashion and carefully swipes up his taste. Then your lips push forward once more and you're going from soft kitten licks to honeyed kisses.

To which Sukuna scoffs and shifts one of his hands to the top of your head, "If this is meant to get me off, you're doing a rather poor job." He comments meanly.

You obviously don't care for his words so, accepting his little challenge, you push your head forward and lift your hand up to his second cock. Your mouth quickly engulfs Sukuna's arguably longer set of inches as drool spills down into the palm you have smoothing over his thicker shaft below.

The quick motions have Sukuna hissing sharply in surprise. You're on your knees lathering his second cock using the mess of saliva and slick from the first as if you'd done this before, skillfully jerking at one length while you hungrily swallowed up the other.

He could hardly keep his many hands on your head, part of him wanting to let you do your thing since you'd seem to know what you were doing now.

His dick easily bulged around your wettened lips and with every deep suck on him. Your face was left brushing against his pelvis and meeting the pretty pink tuffs of hair that decorated his skin there. With each time your lips french kissed his base—tongue spelling your name out against the sensitive vein he had hiding on the underside of his curving cock—Sukuna found himself shuddering.

“Y-Yes, like that...” He stammered, trying to quickly make up for it with a low clearing of his throat and a hearty groan, “Fuuck, what a perfect throat for my cock.” He praises as he works a set of fingers through your hair and watches the way your head twists and bobs--squelches ringing all throughout the air. “I fit in this hole like it was made for me.”

Then the hand you have wrapped oh-so-perfctly around his second shaft is squeezing around him and jerking even faster before you pry your mouth off with a sloppy pop! and then dribble globs of spit all into your hand.

“Y'know, this one’s longer than the other,” You whisper softly as you let your kisser slip against the same dick you just had buried in your throat seconds ago. Then you divulge a drunken little snicker, “And this one-, mh," Your head angles down and smooches at his other erection, "This one’s thicker…”

His left pair of eyes begin to twitch due to your studying and slight analyzation of him, “Stop… mgh-, talking..." He huffs.

You pull away just enough to send him a smile, “Why? You were just throbbing all over my tongue a second ago.”

“Tch," Sukuna scoffs with that expected attitude of his, ears blushing with red he hopes you don't notice (you do). "Open your fucking mouth and make that tongue of yours worth something to me again.” He orders.

Before you get the chance to say anything else snarky or challenging, he's maneuvering your mouth right back onto him. The motion isn't too rough or anything, just enough to get you to shut the hell up before he embarrassingly left a mess of creamy white on that pretty face of yours earlier than he intended to...

“Theere we are. Much better," He utters as his body relaxes and your throat clamps cutely around his plump shaft, “Hahh, you’re a lot more likable as a cocksleeve.”

At that, he feels the way you whine against all his staggering inches and then practically rip yourself off with a slight cough just to huff, “Excuse m-mmpf–”

Unfortunately for you, you're only cut off again by Sukuna feeding his dick past those parted lips of yours—ones of which he truly didn't feel like hearing any more complaints from. Which is why he's fighting back a snicker and his tone comes out a bit more cooing, “No more of that. C’mon now, I thought you were learning,” He whirs out.

Groans that meshed with pretty grunts quickly gurgled out of him as his strong hips started thrusting forward. You lose your grip on him with your hand and to make up for the surprise, your hand merely slips further down to stimulate his weighty balls.

You gag around him almost immediately as you feel his rude cockhead pounding against the back of your throat with a viscous thwack—-having coaxed you into deepthroating him now.

The smile that draws out against his lips is full of pure sin, “Mmgh, look at you—gagging all around me," Sukuna husks out, hand tucking behind your head now to glide you into his thrusts. "Is it too big for you, brat?" He chuckles, tipping his head to the side and adoring the way you pout around him and send him a teary glare, "I thought this was what you wanted?”

You’re left unresponsive to him since you’re too busy taking the way he pulps up against your uvula to tug more gagging and slopped purls out of you. As a completely disheveled mess of a woman below him, you can’t help but feel way more debauched than you thought you would.

And this was really only the beginning.

Sukuna’s impolite with the way he fucks your throat; one cock pumping in and out of your mouth with little to no mercy as the slick of his second head bumps up under your slacked jaw and constantly thumps the center of your throat—serving to only make your trachea tighten around his first. 

And the sounds that were leaving you…

God, it was filthy. All sorts of choking and gurgling surged throughout the room and the mess of spit and liquid arousal that was gathering into a messy little puddle onto the floor in between the two of your legs was just disgusting. 

Sukuna doesn’t find himself losing his patience again until he notices how far apart your thighs have become and the way he can’t exactly see where your second hand has gone off to.

The right corner of his lips twitch and he tips his head over some more—still fucking your throat ‘til it was likely to be bruised—just to finally spot what exactly you were doing. Your hand had dived in between your legs all selfishly to touch what he’d mentally already claimed as his from the moment you’d opened your mouth for him.

An almost feral crack of a smile dawns onto his lust-struck features, “Awh, are you touching yourself?” Sukuna coos again, lower lip sticking out into a pout to mock the whimper you let out against his cock. “How cute. That poor pussy is down there aching for me, isn’t she?” He asks rhetorically before finally using the grip on your hair to pull you off of him. As you pant heavily in an honest attempt of catching your breath, his voice dips impossibly lower, “Do you want me to fuck you?”

Despite the dizziness whirling around your mind right now and the way you felt as though you could hardly see through the tears that’d welled up in your eyes from his mean use of your throat, you still manage a nod and a weak hum, “Mhm..”

He scoffs, “You should know I hate mumbling by now. Speak, woman. You had so much to say earlier, don’t stop now just because I’ve given your throat a little fucking.”

He says as if you couldn’t feel the soreness creeping up on you already…

Obediently, you swallow a gulp down carefully and then nod, “Yes, Sukuna.” Your voice is hoarse, as he fully expected and wanted it to be.

But to annoy you even further and test just how far this obedience of yours would go, Sukuna brings a finger to your jaw and tips your head further up, “Yes what? What exactly do you want? Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me,” You request softly before leaning into his touch more. His hand opens for you and your cheek mashes into his large palm—a gesture of which is far more intimate than he cares for it to be but, he lets it carry out for a moment.

“Mmh,” Sukuna grumbles, “I’ve missed your kind dearly.” Then he takes his hand away from you and nods over to the bed a few feet away from you both, “Get on the bed and strip.”

——

Spoiler alert, the bed breaks.

Now, you don’t know if that’s because you ended up fucking a ghost who also happened to be a literal monster or if that’s because the damn bed was probably older than you were. 

While Sukuna was very rough with your throat, he’s a bit softer with your cunt. You suspect that’s because he hadn’t had pussy in so long, which made him almost like a virgin of sorts.

Though, he did not fuck like one.

“Look at youu, so wet and pretty for my cock,” His words feel as though they were cascading down onto your entire spread frame with how contrastingly gentle they were. 

Currently, his pretty reddened tip was busy driving up and down the expanse of your puffy folds, gathering your syrupy slick all over his skin and letting it smear into the wetness that’d decorated his length from previously.

Sukuna doesn’t miss a single twitch in your body and his multiple pupils dilate as he watches your cunt slobber and twitch around his length before he’d even pushed it in yet, “Do you like that? Yeah?” You merely replied with a half nod of your head considering the way you were losing your mind right now. 

It was a constant and tortuous tease of his monstrous cock sinking up and down your sleeky slit, so heavy and profound with the way he’d occasionally rub aloft against your clit. 

When he finally, finally started to push into you, your back was quickly arching up from the creaking bed and your eyes had crossed from the sheer stretch before rolling delicately back. 

Sukuna glanced down to gape at your clammy thighs clung carefully in two of his palms as he kept them apart. Then, it's rather whorish the way he spits into the pad of his other thumb, pushes the erection he doesn't have inside you to the left for room, and then swipes that thumb of his down to glissade around your clit.

The motion serves to make his entry a tad bit easier for you but it doesn't hinder the number of times whimpers of his name float past your lips. A set of your fingers wrap around one of his wrists just to hold on whilst his plumping head pushes past your tight ring of resistance.

“O-Ohhmygod,” You whine ever so sweetly, unintentionally causing his shaft to bulge deeper into you with an eager-to-please thrust of his hips.

Sukuna’s groans are probably the most hauntingly sexy thing you’ve ever heard in your life. The sound takes up the entire bedroom and has your cunt gushing around him and then pulling his cock all the way into the hilt. 

You’re clinging on his wrist as you gasp from the streeetch he was bullying you with. And he wasn’t even trying to be rough with you (yet), it was just natural. Someone of his size was bound to come with a bit of pain. Luckily for you, getting your throat fucked prior to this had you soaked beyond belief.

Well, that and the fact that you’d been turned on ever since he sent his glares your way.

Right now though? That glare has been replaced with dainty pleasure that’s washed his grumped face—leaving his eyebrows tensed upwards, mouth salivating heavily, and eyes practically forming small hearts in them.

Something in his brain is sputtering. You were so unfairly warm around him that he felt as though he’d finally made it to heaven for a moment; right here, inside you.

After he’s got one cock completely flush within your weeping pussy and has given you a moment long enough to adjust to his size, his hips begin to pry back—just barely. He could only pull his length out a few inches before stuffing himself right back in with a raw, anxious grunt tumbling out of him.

Now that, he hated. He absolutely despised how addictively good you felt. So much so that it takes over his body and before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s got you folded up into a mating press. Now his hips were relentless against yours, the clapping of skin bouncing about the room as he sang out groans of how perfect you were.

You were under him struggling to breathe with the inability to move your body—your arms pinned over your head by two of his hands, his others on your legs. It’s not until his cockhead sloppily slips out of your cunt with a gushy squelch and then accidentally presses against that second hole, catching against your rim and earring a whine of surprise from you.

Sukuna’s body halts at the sound and he would’ve stopped entirely if not for the heightened, “Fuck, yes,” that ghosts out of you. Then his eyes snap up to your face and he waits until you give him this look that almost has him blowing his load. “Don’t stop,” You snicker lightly, eyes glinting with want, “I need both of them.” You demand.

Again, the monster’s brain all but malfunctions. His hips are moving at the same time his lips are to respond with a straining simper of, “Filthy girl…” You feel his slathered mushroom tip begin to press forward once more, this time to ease carefully into your ass. There’s another span of slowness as you wince upon entry, though, it’s not a wince of unwelcoming. “You’ve already begun to soak up one of my cocks and now you’re begging for the second?” He teases.

The fluids from your cunt easily served as lube for him to glide in almost smoothly after a few minutes of adjustment. And his second, upper cock doesn’t take much longer to swell back in between your puffy folds.  

Sukuna couldn’t even try to stop himself from cumming the moment he had both of his dicks inside you. It was rather immediate, the cluttered spurts of globby cum into both of your tight caverns of warmth and wetness. His groan is bellowing and almost apologetic as he does so, hips quickly snapping forward in hopes of distracting you from the way he’d manage to cum so early.

…Even though you’d long since made multiple messes around him by now.

Incoherent moans choke out of you now, eyes crossed into dizziness from being filled by not one but two veiny cocks. “S’kunaa,” You’d cry out in a blabbering slur, face a mess of drool and tears as your gaze remained lust-glossed. “I f-feel s’fuckin’ full,” You grumble, arms twitching to escape the weight his own kept on them.

He hadn’t even started moving yet and both of you were completely drunk on one another. Sukuna felt like he couldn’t think and you definitely couldn’t breathe coherently. 

Huffing, “Look at you, all spread out and dumb on my cocks,” Sukuna has the never to murmur to you before leaning his heavy body down and caressing his slippery thumb downwards against your clit. Then he eaches your ear and your brain feels like mush as he whispers carefully, “Prettiest thing I’ve seen in centuries.”

“K-Keep talking about how-, hahh.. h-how old you are, m’close,” You snicker just barely as he turns his head and sticks his tongue out to lap the tears and saliva up from your face.

Then he’s talking against your skin whilst gently rocking his hips forward, just pressing deep against your slicking insides. “Oh, you think you’re so funny, huh?” He challenges.

To which you break out a smile, “Mhmm..”

It’s instinct the way his fingers narrow around your clit to pinch hard enough that a throb is induced from your body. The damn monster acted as though the entire weight of his body wasn’t already smothering you down into the bed, “Laugh now.” 

“Fuu-uck…” You gasp in reaction, “Mmgh! hnngh, Sukuna!”

“You’ll wear my name out if you keep moaning it like that,” He whispers playfully as he finally adjusts his weighty body to help you bring some oxygen back into your lungs. Not that this lasts long since the greedy tongue from his stomach mouth soon splays out against your lower abdomen and slathers its way down to your clit to lull over. Your walls instantly begin to cuddle the swelling shafts of his cocks in reaction.

Yet you still manage to scoff, “Would you r-rather me—fuck, that f-feels good—moan something else?”

“I would rather you shut the fuck up,” He counters before releasing your arms from his hold and then stuffing two fingers into your mouth. You muffle something bratty out against his digits but that only makes him smile, “Ahh, muuuch better. No more of those annoying words out of that drooling mouth of yours. So messy…”

From there on out, everything is just messy and no longer soft. In Sukuna’s mind, he gave you ample time to relish in what little he possesses of a “soft-side” but now it was time to get back on track.

Those angry hips of his waste no more time with meeting your skin with haphazard thrusts as the veins decorating his bulking dicks rub all drunkenly against your honeyed walls.

Quickly earning a groan from him, “Mmgh, I prefer you this way, human.” To which you begin to lap your tongue around his fingers and work your mouth against them skillfully. “Suck harder,” He demands.

You, ever the brat, then decide to clasp your teeth around his fingers and instead of wining in pain or even flinching, Sukuna’s eyes flash something crazed before he moans, “A-Ah… fuck, bite me again.” He pants hotly, feeling your jaw clamp again,  “Harder,” He scolds. Followed by which is a smile that’s paired with a very faint whine, “Fuuuck yes, just like that.. good girl.”

Then he’s snapping into your harder, silently letting you know you’ve done nothing more than fuel his desire and causing the bed beneath the two of you to creak and thrash against the wall. His cum spills past your lips and your puckered hole whilst his monstrous sizes fill you out, leaving a creamy ring of white around his bases.

The mess of it all drools down to wrap around his balls that’d been busy clashing against your skin just as much as his insistent hips were. Sukuna was a merciless fuck, something of which any human you’ve ever been with could never compare to.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Having two fat cocks stretch out your needy holes?” Sukuna drawls out before he hears a shatter of wood from somewhere. 

His eyes leave you for hardly even a second to see that the bed under you both seems to have broken. Nevertheless, there were more important things to tend to right now—such as a sudden splatter of something profusely soaked from below. 

Sukuna looks down faster than ever and his body shudders at the sight and feeling of you squirting on him, “And look at that pussy, my, my… what a slutty lil’ thing she is.”

“S-Sukuna-, hnngh! S’too m-much!” You’re sobbing out, feeling a hand of his come up to cradle your cheek and swat away those messy tears of yours. He’d just licked the last batch of cries away from your face and yet you had the gall to wet it all over again? How rude.

“Oh hush your crying, slut.” He scolds, leaning all the way up now and waiting until your stream comes to a stop, “This can’t possibly be your first time squirting.”

“It iss,” You whimper, eyes rolling back, and legs still quivering from it. “S’too fuckin’ m-much… nngh-,” Your last moan is a bit quieter considering your voice is rather lost to pleasure by this point.

“And yet you took it all,” Sukuna huffs with a roll of his eyes. Then he slides out of you, his thick seed splattering out against your sweaty skin and leaving a mess of obscenity behind. “All of my inches, deeper and deeper into the back of those weepy holes.” He hums, tone reverberating against his throat.

Your body is left convulsing for a long moment whilst you feel the weight in the bed shifting, your eyes sealed shut, and mouth agape to capture most of your lost breath back.

Sukuna’s touch had left you and you thought you both were done. Uh-fucking-fortunately for you, it’s not long before his hands are gabbing at your thighs and tugging your body down against the bed.

You gasp loudly as your eyes fly open and you look down to see him in between your legs, face way too close to your pulsing pussy. “Sukuna, w-wait… you’re not about to–”

“Relaax, silly human. I just want to clean you up,” He murmurs slyly, angling his head inward and bringing his lips to the mess of cum and remnants of your squirting. You take a second to relax again but when you do, his eyes are hungry on yours, “Perfect,” He sighs, watching you bring a hand down and then diving it into his pink hair. “Now watch me feast.”

And feast he does, licking up every drop of cum that’d been left all over your gorgeous skin. Sukuna may have absolutely ruined you but he’d never leave you like that. His tongue is kittenish against your inner thighs and around your abdomen, making sure to clean around your cunt and saving the best part for last.

When he finally gets there, he’s pussydrunk all over again. His fat tongue dives past your plush folds and then gives them a firm suck to tug his seed out of you, “Mmgh.. we taste… ah, delicious together.” He whispers into your pussy. “Haahh, my woman spoiled me so well, mmhmm.”

You’re flinching every now and then due to the prominent sense of overstimulation thrumming throughout your body but since his tongue isn’t as bullying as the rest of him had been…

Broken and soft, “Y-Your?” you ask with barely furrowed brows.

“Pwah, you heard me. My woman,” He spits out, thumbs coming up to pry your glossy lips apart and watch you throb, “Isn’t that right, beautiful?” He says to your cunt softly. You clench around nothing weakly and that brings a tender smile to his face, “Mh, such a helpful lil’ thing…”

...So much for simply summoning a ghost or meeting a monster.

Your slutty ass just had to go the extra mile and fuck both wrapped up in one sexy package, huh?

To answer that, yes.

perm sukuna tags (1/2):

@cupidstrace @iiakithegoat @hellodeeyanna @navyllll @grignardsreagent @kingofpiratesiguess @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa444 @etsuniiru @starsryi @not-a-glad-gladiator

@audiblez @2kool4skoolll @bbfawns @elliescumtubeslut @daxphoriax @gorouenjoyer @oookore @whore4hobie @blubearxy @wonderfullymickey

@iaintblockinnobody @anothergojostan @kitassecretgf @iam-souless @nanamitiddiechomper @ohreallyfriend @kunababy @withersworld @lilacsforveins @suguphile

@megottheswaskikacooooke @kvsqkiii @yourlocalcatscammer @lucy-lulu @sukubusss @sweetieelilii @lisabelhyhn @bellesiy @serenadesvt @simp4idk

“Soaked already?” His voice was low, dark, dangerous. “Tsk. All that fuss and noise over me, and now you’re gonna pretend you’re shy?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out.

“I knew it,” he said, his voice dark and gravelly. “Knew you’d taste this sweet.”

You were too stunned to speak. Couldn’t even breathe. Your heart pounded like a war drum, but your body? Your body responded immediately—thighs falling wider open, back arching, needy cunt pulsing just from the sight of him.

“I-Is this a dream?” you whispered.

Toji smirked. “Nah, sweetheart. This is real. As real as the mess you’ve been makin’ every night thinking about me.”

You choked on air, your face burning. “W-What—?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he growled, gripping your thighs tight, spreading you open even more. “You think I don’t know? How many times have you rubbed this pretty pussy raw with my name in your mouth? Hm?”

He leaned in, tongue flicking against your clit, sending a violent shudder down your spine.

You couldn’t speak. Your jaw trembled as he licked again, sloppier this time.

Wet, slow.

He made a damn mess out of you, tongue swirling, nose pressing against your mound. His hands squeezed your thighs like he owned them.

“You’re a fuckin’ pervert,” he hissed into you, breath hot. “Getting off to a damn anime character. Touching yourself like a filthy little girl who doesn’t know better.”

His words cut through you like lightning—but instead of shame, all you felt was heat.

Pure, molten arousal. He wasn’t wrong. He knew. And you didn’t care. You’d dreamt of this—fantasized about it endlessly. And now it was happening.

Toji flattened his tongue and dragged it over you again, then sucked your clit between his lips. You cried out, your hips jerking up, fingers digging into the sheets. Your orgasm barreled toward you like a freight train, fast and deadly.

“C’mon,” he murmured against you, teasing your swollen bud with his tongue. “Cum on my fuckin’ tongue, you nasty little slut.”

You broke.

Your entire body locked up as waves of release crashed through you. You came with a cry, hips twitching, thighs squeezing around his head, your mind blank with the intensity of it. You couldn’t stop trembling—couldn’t stop moaning his name.

Toji, Toji, Toji.

When you finally opened your eyes, he was licking his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Look at you,” he said, grinning.

“You came so fuckin’ hard just from my mouth. That’s all it took? That all those years of pathetic humping pillows and touching yourself to my edits built up to?”

You whimpered, too fucked out to reply. He grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“You ever been touched like that before?” he asked lowly.

You shook your head. “N-No. Never.”

Toji’s eyes gleamed. “Thought so. Just like I imagined. Tight, wet, untouched.”

He sat back on his heels, then began unzipping his pants. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

And then—there it was.

His cock.

Thick. Heavy. Veiny. Angry.

Just like you’d imagined it in all those fics you wrote, all the posts you reblogged, all the filthy daydreams you had in class. It curved slightly upward, the tip flushed dark, a bead of precum glistening at the top.

He was huge. So big it almost scared you. Almost.

Toji noticed your stare and let out a low chuckle. “You’ve been thinking about this, huh?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

He stroked himself lazily, his fist tight around the base. “Bet you wrote all about it too. Bet you described it just like this—‘thick, hot, drooling’—ain’t that right, perv?”

You flushed so hard you thought you’d combust. He was right again. You had written that exact line in a fic once. Several, actually.

“Wanna lick it?” he asked, cock bobbing slightly in his grip.

“Please,” you whispered, already leaning forward, like something primal took over you.

“Then open wide,” he said darkly, guiding his cock toward your mouth.

You opened your mouth for him, tongue out, breath hot, your throat already aching with anticipation. Your lips barely brushed the head of his cock before he let out a low, approving growl.

“Good girl,” he said.

“So fuckin’ obedient when you’ve got what you want in front of you.”

You licked a slow stripe from the base to the tip, savoring the taste of his skin—salty, musky, warm. His cock twitched in your hand, heavy and alive. You couldn’t believe how real it felt. How perfect. Your fingers barely wrapped around him, and even then there was still length left—thick veins pulsing under your touch.

“Shit,” he muttered, throwing his head back.

“You look better with my cock in your mouth.”

You flushed, but the heat only made you bolder. You wrapped your lips around the tip, suckled gently, then took more. Inch by inch. He hissed through his teeth as you pushed further, your tongue swirling, jaw stretching wide.

He was too big to fit all the way, but you tried. Desperate to take more. To please him. To earn every filthy word he’d throw at you.

Toji’s hand slid to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

“You’ve done this before?” he asked, voice low and teasing.

You shook your head, your mouth full of him, moaning softly.

“No?” he smirked.

“All that filth you wrote, all those fantasies—and you’ve never even sucked a cock before? Fuck. That makes this even better.”

He started guiding your head, slowly at first.

In. Out. In. Out.

Drool spilled down your chin as you gagged lightly, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

But you didn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.

Your cunt was throbbing again, slick soaking through your panties all over again just from this. Just from finally, finally tasting him.

He groaned deep in his chest, hips rolling.

“Look at you. My dirty little pervert, choking on dick like you were born for it. You needed this, didn’t you? Wrote about it in your little blog, huh? Told your readers how bad you wanted to suck me off?”

You moaned around him, your hand pumping the base while your lips worked the tip. You looked up at him through watery eyes, cheeks hollowed, letting him see every bit of desperation you felt.

“Fuck,” he growled. “You’re gonna make me cum just from this mouth. You know what that means?”

He pulled back suddenly, cock glistening and twitching.

“That mouth of yours? It’s mine. This pussy you keep rubbing and fingering every night thinking about me? Mine. Your fucking mind? All mine.”

And you believed it. Every damn word.

Because you wanted to be ruined.

By him.

By Toji Fushiguro.

His thrusts into your mouth get faster, more erratic, his grip tightening in your hair like he can’t hold back anymore. You gag as he pushes in deep, his cock sliding further than before, heavy and pulsing on your tongue.

“Fuck—‘m gonna cum,” he growls, voice tight and low, hips jerking.

You moan around him, never stopping, desperate to taste it—to have him finish in your mouth like you’ve imagined hundreds of times. You’ve touched yourself to that exact scenario before. Begging for it, whimpering into your pillow like a desperate little thing.

Toji’s whole body tenses. He shoves in one last time, deep enough to make your eyes water—and then he cums. Thick, hot ropes of it hit the back of your throat, spilling down your tongue. You moan at the taste, the overwhelming realness of it.

“Swallow,” he growls, looking down at you with blown pupils and a savage smirk.

“You’ve been dreaming of this, haven’t you? Filthy little freak—swallow it all.”

You do. You swallow every drop, not letting a single bit escape. You look up at him afterward, licking your lips, your chest heaving.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he hisses, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. “Good girl. That mouth was made for me.”

His taste still lingers on your tongue, thick and salty, as you obediently swallow every last drop—just like you’ve fantasized so many times. Your lips are still parted, your breath shaky, as you look up at him through your lashes, dazed and drunk on him.

Toji smirks, the kind that makes your knees buckle, and drags his thumb along your lower lip. “You’ve been waiting your whole damn life to swallow that, haven’t you?”

You nod dumbly. You don’t trust your voice.

You barely have time to breathe before he grabs you by the arm and pulls you up off the floor, pushing you back onto the bed like you weigh nothing.

“You think I’m done?” he sneers, towering over you now. “After all those years of teasing me in your head—touching yourself to my voice, my face, my hands?”

His hands grip the hem of your top, yanking it up and over your head, leaving your chest exposed to the cool air. Your nipples are already hard, aching. You watch, heart racing, as he stares down at you—like he’s deciding which part to ruin first.

“I’ve seen the shit you wrote,” he mutters. “The stuff you said about my hands. These fingers.” He wiggles them mockingly. “You want them in your pussy so bad, huh?”

You whimper, thighs clenching.

He leans down and wraps his lips around one nipple, sucking harshly. His teeth graze the bud and you cry out, arching into him. He groans, like he can taste how badly you need him.

“God, you’re so fucking easy. I just look at you and you’re dripping.” He squeezes your breasts together, staring at them with a hunger that makes your stomach flip. “I should’ve done this earlier.”

He places his cock between your breasts, starts moving between the plush softness, still hard—like he hadn’t just cum down your throat a minute ago.

“I’m gonna paint these pretty tits of yours,” he says, voice dark and thick. “You always imagined this, didn’t you? My cum all over your tits, yeah? Fuck. So big. So soft. All f'me, yeah?"

You gasp, nodding helplessly. Your hands grip the sheets, eyes locked on his cock as he starts jerking it faster, hovering over you. His abs tense, veins standing out along his arms. Your heart pounds in your ears.

“Fuck,” he spits, voice low and filthy.

“Look at you—lying there like my personal cum rag. You love this, huh? You live for it.”

You don’t even get the chance to respond—he cums with a guttural groan, hot ropes shooting out across your chest. Warm, sticky, messy—exactly the way you always pictured it.

It splatters across your breasts, painting your skin in thick white streaks. Your nipples are soaked, the mess dripping slowly between them, down to your stomach.

Toji stands above you, chest heaving, smirking.

“There,” he says, voice smug and breathless.

“Now you look like what you are. Mine.”

You moan, dazed and wrecked, trembling under his gaze.

And fuck, he’s not done with you yet.

He stands there for a moment, looming over you, his cock still wet and twitching despite just finishing across your chest. His eyes drop down to the mess he made, and a crooked smirk spreads across his face.

“Fuckin’ pathetic,” he mutters, dragging two fingers through the streaks of cum on your breasts, slow and lazy. “Look at you. Covered in my cum, trembling, eyes all wide like a bitch in heat. You’ve been dying for this, haven’t you?”

You gasp when he pinches a nipple, still soaked and sensitive. Your thighs press together instinctively, and he notices—of course he notices.

“Still wet?” he laughs, cruel and amused. “After I already came down your throat and marked these pretty tits? Goddamn. You’re worse than I thought.”

His hand moves between your thighs without warning, pressing down against your soaked panties. You whimper, hips twitching.

“This pussy's been ruined by me for years already, hasn’t it?” he murmurs, rubbing over the fabric slowly.

His eyes lift to meet yours. “You’ve been mine all along.”

You look away, cheeks burning, shame curling up in your chest—and making you even wetter.

“Aww, what’s this?” he coos mockingly, pushing the soaked panties aside and running a finger up your slit, gathering the slick.

“You embarrassed? What for, baby? Didn’t seem so shy when you were reading filthy fics about me while touching yourself.”

He brings his slick-covered finger to your lips.

“Open. Taste what I do to you.”

You obey. You don’t even hesitate. He slips the finger inside, smirking.

“Good girl,” he whispers darkly. “Fucking pervert.”

You moan.

“Yeah, you are. A filthy little slut, obsessed with a man who doesn’t even exist. Jealous over my dead wife—who’s neither real either. You’re out here crying over her, wishing you were the one warming my bed, the one I was filling with my cum every night. Ain’t that right?”

You nod slowly, lips trembling around his finger.

“Bet you used to look at her and say ‘Why her?’” he continues, cruel and mocking.

“Why did she get to marry him? Why did she get to ride his cock, get his babies? Bet you’d trade your whole fucking life just to have my kid, wouldn’t you?”

Your body stiffens, pulse racing at how quickly he pulls the darkest thoughts from your head and lays them bare like open wounds.

“You’d let me knock you up in a second if I told you to,” he whispers, dragging his lips down the side of your neck.

“Let me use this pussy however I wanted. Breed you raw. Fill you up every night until you’re leaking around my cock, begging for more.”

You let out a choked sob. “Toji—”

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “I know.”

His hand slides back between your legs, fingers spreading your folds again.

“Every time you cried watching me die on screen… every time you moaned out my name while you were alone in bed… I felt it. That hunger. That ache. That fucked-up love you got for me.”

You shake under his touch, lips parted, thighs twitching.

“And you know what’s worse?” he whispers against your skin. “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your breath catches.

“I like how broken you are for me. How addicted. It makes you easy. Makes you mine.”

His fingers circle your entrance, teasing but never pushing in.

“I could tell you to get on all fours, crawl to me like a bitch in heat, and you’d do it without blinking. Wouldn’t you?”

“Y-Yes,” you breathe.

“Say it,” he growls in your ear.

“I’d do anything for you, Toji,” you whimper. “I’d let you use me. Breed me. I—I love you. So much . . . It hurts.”

He laughs low and filthy.

“I know, baby. And that’s the best part. You love me. Even after all this. Even after I mock you, make you cry, humiliate you.”

He leans in closer, voice dark as sin. “You still want me to split you open, huh? Fill this needy pussy until you can’t think straight.”

You sob. “Please... please...”

“But not yet,” he whispers, licking a stripe up the side of your neck.

“Ain’t you a little pervert,” he murmurs, almost fondly. “Laying in bed, playing with that needy cunt every night, moaning my name like a bitch in heat over a man who didn’t even exist.”

He chuckles—dark, low, and taunting.

“Tell me, princess. How many times did you touch yourself to me this week alone?”

Your cheeks burn, but your thighs rub together involuntarily. “Five… six…” you whisper.

His grin widens. “Liar.”

He grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to stay locked on his.

“You came to me more than that. I can see it. You’re the kind of girl who’d do it in the bathroom between classes, aren’t you? Pathetic little slut.”

You whimper—because it’s true.

He drags his mouth down your neck, lips grazing your skin like a threat.

“Bet you cried over my death, didn’t you? All heartbroken over a man who’d ruin you if he were real.”

“I did,” you breathe, voice trembling. “I cried so hard.”

“I know.” He kisses your throat, just above your racing pulse. “Know what else I know? You’re still jealous of her.”

Your stomach twists. “...Who?”

“My wife,” he says casually, then laughs at your expression. “The dead one. The one you cursed in your head for being bred by me. You wanted it to be you, didn’t you? You wanted to be the one under me, full of my cum. Begging for it.”

Tears prick your eyes—not from shame but from overwhelming desire. Because he’s right. Every sick thought, every lonely night—you wanted it. You needed it.

He hovers above you now, breath warm on your skin, eyes gleaming.

“You think I’m done with you?”

His hand slides between your legs again, fingers grazing the oversensitive slickness there. You gasp.

“You’ve waited too long for this. So don’t you dare think I’m letting you off that easy.”

Before you can speak, he moves lower, lips trailing down to your chest—kissing, biting, claiming. He cups your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples with cruel slowness.

“You wanted me to use you here too, didn’t you? Wanted to feel me spilling all over these tits while you moaned my name like a whore.”

You cry out, back arching, and he chuckles against your skin.

“I’m not gonna stop until I fuck every last filthy fantasy out of that pretty little head of yours.”

He slides his hands beneath you, lifting you effortlessly into his lap like you weigh nothing. The head of his cock nudges between your thighs—thick, hot, already hard again.

“You ready, baby?” he whispers into your ear.

“You ready for your first real fuck to be the man you’ve been dreaming of since day one?”

You nod—shaking, desperate, and more ready than you’ve ever been.

“Then let’s make it count.”

His breath is hot on your skin, heavy with control. You’re already spread out beneath him, body aching and soaked, but he doesn’t slide in—not yet.

No, Toji is crueler than that.

Instead, he presses his hips forward, and you gasp when you feel the full length of him—hard, heavy, hot—resting along your soaked slit.

Skin to skin. No barriers.

Just his cock gliding over you, so close, so fucking close, and yet never pushing inside.

“Shit…” you whimper, already trembling.

Toji chuckles darkly above you.

“You thought I’d give it to you that easy, baby?” His hips roll slowly, dragging his length right against your swollen clit with sinful precision.

“Nah. You’ve been teasing yourself for years. Now it’s my turn.”

Each slow thrust sends sparks through your nerves. It’s maddening—his cock sliding up and down your folds, slick with everything you’ve been dripping for him. He reaches between you, spreads your lips open with his fingers, and grinds himself in deeper—his shaft rubbing against every sensitive inch, thick and hot and absolutely relentless.

“You feel that?” he whispers.

“That’s what you’ve been chasing. Every night you rubbed this needy little pussy to my name… this is what you wanted, huh?”

You moan—choked and high-pitched—barely able to speak. You can’t stop your hips from moving, trying to angle just right, trying to get him to slip in. But he holds you steady, teasing you with slow, grinding motions, never letting you have it.

“Been dreaming of my cock between your legs since the day you saw that first reel,” he mutters, voice husky with a smirk.

“You didn’t even get it at first. But now? Look at you.”

His teeth brush your ear.

“Now you’re underneath me. Dripping. Begging. Letting me hump this soaked little cunt like some desperate virgin schoolgirl.”

A whimper leaves your throat. Your hands dig into his shoulders. Your entire body is trembling from the friction—your clit pulsing, your core aching to be filled—and he still isn’t giving it to you.

Toji chuckles, watching every little reaction with a glint of pride and filth in his eyes.

“So wet, I don’t even gotta do shit. You’re just lying here, letting me fuck your thighs and clit like you were made for it.”

He grunts softly as he pushes in deeper, his tip nudging just under your folds—but not quite inside. Just a whisper of what you crave.

“You want me to fill you, don’t you?” he growls against your throat.

“You want me to fuck you for real. But you don’t get that yet.”

Your hips buck again, desperate.

“Not until you beg.”

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