Chapter Text
"spread your legs."
"h-huh?!—"
"I do not like repeating myself. spread. now."
you squeal as two of his hands come to spread your legs—
"w-wha— why?–"
"tch. you're aroused, woman. have you forgotten? you can't hide that from me."
sukuna's voice is low, laced with that infuriating confidence, because he feels it— the way your pulse races, the way you nervously rub your thighs together, the way you stare at him. of course, he feels the same. he feels aroused whenever you do, the only expection being that he's not ashmed to hide it. you're synced, bound in a way no one else could ever understand, and he knows it as surely as you do.
you blush— you're shy when it comes to that. though, can you really be blamed? a seven foot demon, intimitading as ever, stands above you as you sit, leaned against the headboard of your bed while he's painfully aware of the throbbing little problem between your plush thighs.
he's creating space, pushing your thighs apart until you wince ever so slightly. you catch his smirk, making you bite back a snarky remark.
"all you have to do is ask— or is that too hard for you? do you prefer it if I take care of everything, hm? perhaps our roles should've been switched. 'could order you around without your nonsense yappin'. but you'd like that, wouldn't you?"
you whimper, your thin little pair of shorts and panties getting ripped off of you. sukuna had gotten into the habit of ripping your clothes, careless to say since he didn't have a way to buy you any new ones (avoiding shoko's suspicions was getting harder and harder; what in the world could you need new panties and clothes every damned week for?).
being naked and bare in front of the curse was nothing new anymore.
sometimes, coming straight from a shower, you get too lazy to change into clothes. and since this is your house, who is there to take away the rights of you lying on your bed bare and wet?
well.
it's not exactly the rights you lose.
it's the ability to walk that you'll be losing after—
because clothes be damned, the second the demon finds you all naked on the bed, something inside of him snaps and he's on you within a second.
there's never time to ask when his quiet-self sneaks up on you, forcing his palm to lay upon your cunt, eating you out straight from there.
even despite of how many times he's done this, you always feel the spur of panic racing through your body, but with each time the panic only settles for less and less seconds, until eventually it's just you letting out a short shriek before you grind back against him, not even caring enough to look at who's behind you.
and you enjoy every second of it. with the strange sync ability, you're never fucking whenever you're not in the mood, because sukuna knows whether you'd like to get your cunt destroyed or not. of course, you can't always control what you're feeling, but when it's up to that, he will stop at any sign of discomfort.
because it's not fun to fuck when the enjoyment is one-sided only.
"'kunaaaa!" you whine, unbeknownstly bucking your hips into his touch. he grins, using his upper arms to lift you by your thighs, promptly pressing your aching core against his abdomen.
hissing, you felt it—
the warm, large tongue licking your core, a loud 'sloosh' being able to be heard. you moan, holding into the curse, your arms doing their best to embrace his huge form.
"yeah, that's it. one lick is all it takes to shut you up. what a weak sorcerer you are. you should be glad 'm here.." he groans, his tongue savoring your taste as you whimper and mewl against him. your hips grind back against the muscle, and while its only licking and teasing your hole, you need more, you desperately need more,
"ask for it. come on, little one."
your jaw drops as you attempt to clench your thighs, your movements stilling. your cunt is glued against his tongue as you hopelessly try to get something inside of you— to clench around something, to feel him.
"please- haah, ple-please 'kuna, want you. want you deep.."
his grin widens, his canines on display. the tongue slithers into your folds, parting them as he collects more slick of you. your insides burn as he nears your entrance, and finally, finally slips into you.
and lord do you scream. you shut your eyes, burying your face in between those glorious pecs.
"what do we say, brat?"
"thank you— t-thank you 'kuna!—" your voice comes out as a mere muffled babble as you clench around his tongue, feeling the tip hit your g-spot over and over.
the best part is when you start to feel it pulsating— curling into you, almost pulling an orgasm out of you as you gasp.
he repeats his movements, his fingers gripping harshly into your thighs, squeezing the fat and surely leaving marks.
and you're so close when his tongue does a scrumptious curl, so deep, so fullfilling.
he feels you clenching, and with a loud grunt following a 'plop', he pushes you out, his tongue ghosting over your clit.
you cry out, desperately wiggling in the air whilst you feel your hole clenching around nothing.
asshole.
"don't be greedy now, you slut. you wanna be good? quit your whining and scream my name."
whether you want or not, you do it nevertheless as he pushes you into the bed, placing you on all fours, pulling your ass into the air. his needy grunts last only for a few seconds until you feel his tip nudging your folds.
"haa k-kuna!"
he stills, and you wiggle your hips, trying to cause some kind of friction.
he scoffs, "do it yourself."
suddenly, all cogs in your brain stop working and you look back over your shoulder, sending him a look that could be mistaken for pure terror.
"wha...?"
"tsk. so fuckin' gone already. put. it.in." he smirks, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "or both, if you can handle that."
in no fucking universe would you be able to handle both at the same time— god, you almost scare yourself at the thought. wouldn't he just rip you open?
he taps the side of your ass, catching your attention as he takes notice of your zoning out, clearly oblivious at the fear.
you whimper, your hands bending backwards to hold his dick. you hold the top one, your thumb rubbing over his leaking tip.
could he impregnate you? because if he could, you'd undoubtly end up pregnant with the amount of fucking cum this man produces. it runs along your thumb, your palm, dripping down into your ass.
shit.
the one arm holding your weight gives in, but he quickly catches your waist with two of his lower ones, forcing you to be flush against him. your back hits his chest, and you huff.
"if you take any longer, 'll stuff you by myself 'nd I do not give a fuck if you'll be withering and begging me to stop beneath me."
liar.
"s-so you're threatenin' me with a good time?" you grin, a breathless moan escaping you as he grips into you tighter.
"careful, brat."
you almost laugh, but you can't risk that— so without any hesitation, you nudge his tip against your hole, sinking it into you, sighing in relief.
well, maybe it's a bit too early for that, because he's huge. his dick splits you open easily, whilst the lower one glides through your folds, getting glazed by your arousal. the leaking tip reaches your clit.
"please.."
"hngh— too f-fuckin' tight—"
"t-too much! fuck— ngh!"
he scoffs, his hips delivering another three inches into your quivering hole,
"you begged f'r this. now take it, woman."
he fully pumps his cock into you, one brutal thrust after another, his other dick rubbing your abonden nub.
"s'kuna— mhhh- p-please- t..touch haah touch m..me!"
you can basically feel his smirk behind you, his tip buried deep within you.
"touch where?"
whatever he was awaiting for, you guiding his free hand to your clit was unexpected, even to him.
"oh? there? hnngh- I suppose I've left this part out for too long, haven't I?"
you nod helplessly, trying to grind against him, causing his tip to brush against your clit more often. he grins, his chest rumbling with his laugh.
"mhh, such a monster for not touchin' you sooner, aren't I? my poor baby jus' wants 'er fuckin' clit rubbed— hah!—"
you whimper, his dick diving even deeper as your walls engulf him happily. you try not to be affected by his words, but good lord does it spark something inside of you.
and he feels it, of course.
he feels the way your walls clench around him, the way you milk his dick, the way you crumble.
"oh. you liked that, d-didn't you, fuckin' whore? takin' me all the w-way— "too much" my ass."
he applies pressure on your clit with his index finger, his thick print rubbing your clit at a fast pace— it'd almost hurts, if not for overstimulation.
you feel it. the build-up of your orgasm, the burn in your abdomen, the throbbing of your hole. but you're far too gone, far too distracted to fully form sentences.
"c-cum- g'na cum, k-kuna! haah!-"
the sudden change of movements almost makes you pass out— in less than a few seconds, you're bend over, your knees hitting the bed, your face squished into the pillow, and sukuna absolutely beating the shit into you, each thrust earning a harsh slap against your ass. his thrusts are bruising your cervix, his lower cock rubs through your folds, the whole mess dripping down into the sheets.
"hngh- l-let go."
you do just as said without another thought. your orgasm breaks through you, coating sukuna's dick with your cum.
he's no better— covering your inside and your outside white, his slick cum filling your hole. you feel it, the hot spurt of his juice. it's so much, it barely fits inside of you as it leaks out of your hole. his other cock leaks aswell, the cum plating your clit, abdomen and even reaching your swollen breasts.
he slips out, sloppily relaxing his other, non touched dick inside of you, making you yelp.
"n-no!–"
"calm down, woman." he grumbles, leaving even more of his cum inside of you before pulling out again. you sigh, fully plopping down into the sheets.
relief.
that is, until you feel a wet muscle leaving slow, small licks at your hole, coaxing your mixed orgasms into his tongue.
you squirm, crying out as he pushes everything back again, only licking away the leftover cum on the insides of your thighs, aswell as on your pussy.
and you slur, rolling your head and squirming, "th-thanks.. thank you- s-so much–"
sukuna feels weird once again. his heart feels tight, his chest sinking unbelievably deep into him.
why must you be so cute? addictive? so.. full of love?
sukuna rises from the bed. he doesn't say a word, just walks across the room to grab a towel, his steps silent. as he returns to you, his expression is calm, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his bloody red eyes. without waiting for any protest, he begins to clean you up first, wiping the sweat and the remnants of your orgasms from your skin with surprising gentleness.
when he's done with you, he quickly wipes himself down too, tossing the towel aside carelessly when he's finished.
once you're both cleaned up, he lays next to you, pulling you into his chest without warning, his arms wrapping around you securely, and you find yourself nestled against him. the warmth of his body dawns into yours as you both lay back down, tangled in each other.
your hands instinctively reach up, tangling in his pink hair, something you've done so many times before. he makes a low sound in his throat, something you almost miss— soft, barely audible. but you catch it, and your heart skips a beat.
perhaps he let it slip because he's exhausted, but no force of hell could hold you back now.
"did… did you just purr?" you ask, your voice shakey, hesitant, a small grin spreading across your face.
sukuna freezes for a moment, then glares at you, his usual scowl looking as frustrated as ever, "no," he snaps.
but you're not convinced. you saw the way his eyes fluttered, how relaxed he looked for that brief second. your fingers curl into his hair again, stroking it just the way you know he likes, testing your theory. his reaction is immediate — his body tenses, and you hear the faintest rumble deep in his chest again.
"you did purr!" you cry out, your voice full of excitement.
"woman, stop it," he growls, but the effect is completely cut short by the fact that his body betrays him with another soft, almost involuntary rumble.
you giggle, "no way! I didn't know you could purr like that!" you say, running your hands through his hair again, trying to coax more of that sound out of him.
sukuna immediately pulls back, holding you at arm's length, his expression a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. "enough," he demands, stretching his arms out to keep you from getting too close, but you're too determined, your fingers tangling into him like a cat refusing to let go. your imaginary claws dig into his skin, making it impossible to remove you fully.
"come on, just one more time," you tease, wriggling closer to him despite his efforts to hold you at a distance. his arms are longer, but you're stubborn, clawing your way back into his hair, fingers running through it with a grin.
"woman— stop it," he repeats, his voice almost dragging a whine. he grumbles, attempting to push you away again, but it's half-hearted, and you can feel him giving in.
eventually, sukuna lets out a long, grumble-like sigh, his arms loosening as he gives up on trying to keep you at bay. you happily settle back into his chest, your fingers continuing their love in his hair, and this time, when that deep, soothing rumble fills his chest (and your head), he doesn't fight it.
the sound vibrates through his entire body, and you feel it against your ear where you rest on his chest. it's warm, comforting, and you smile to yourself, satisfied.
"I knew it," you whisper sleepily, the sound of his low purr lulling you closer to sleep. "you're just a big, ole' cat…"
sukuna huffs, but all four of his arms tighten around you, his large hands resting on your back and your thighs as you drift off. despite himself, he lets the purring continue.
now that you know anyway, what's the use of holding back?
and though he'd never admit it, he finds a strange sense of peace in the sound too. in the way your fingers tangle in his hair, in the soft weight of your body against his.
he could live like this.
---
and just as swiftly as it was given, it slipped through your fingers.
in the blink of an eye, everything turned into chaos. sukuna somehow managed to break free—
on your third mission out with him, it somehow all ended up into a suicide mission. turns out, the curse had an eye out for fushiguro.
and it broke your heart, how quickly he departed himself from you, shoved that finger down the boys throat—
you could feel it, the loss, the betrayal, the pain, the emptiness and the consequences that were about to come.
he left you.
and for a whole month, you had never been this low before.
somehow, the rock bottom got worse when you found out that there was going to be a fight— the last fight with gojo against sukuna, one that'll determine who ends up dying and living.
you knew you were done for when the rock bottom drilled even further down, reaching a limitless void as you pulled gojo out of the fight, his infinity fluttering weakly, almost turning off.
that was going to be his death sentence, if it weren't for you.
one second you were fighting him— the curse that had gotten attached to you, had dug his way into your heart, poisoning you into something you weren't sure you were capable of— loving someone.
the next second, you were on the ground, gasping, bleeding out— alone.
something is missing, too.
it was over. the battle ended a few moments after your defeat, but time went by so slow.
it was as if the universe was punishing you for your existence— you were in between the states of life and death— too drained and damaged to be alive, yet too awake and desperate to slip away into the one thing you desired so badly.
it was mocking, really. that state of yours, refusing to fullfilling any of your wishes, gifting you pure pain and suffering.
you lay there, the earth rotating seemingly slower than you remember.
was it the blood loss? or had time always been so cruel enough to give you anything but the quick and painless treatment?
you try to move, but your body won't listen. every breath feels like fire, a burning pain resting inside your body. it's painful, but nothing compared to the pain clawing at your soul— the ache, the voice reminding you— 'he's gone.'
but the actual voice is real, and it's out there, and it belongs to someone.
it's gojo.
he's happy, he's praising his students, he's telling them that everything was okay now.
and it destroys you.
it hurts so much.
something is missing.
you should be glad it's over, should be glad your peers, allies and friends are safe, but instead of the relief all you feel is sorrow.
or maybe it's somber. sadness. anger. envy—
lonely. you feel lonely.
he's not here.
someone is missing.
your hazy state makes it harder for you to focus. it's only when you're choking on your own tears that you notice your histeric sobs.
the shock wears off— it hurts. every hiccup feels like you're letting blood into your throat. every sob feels like a knife in your chest. every tear sliding down your skin is a reminder that he's gone.
the others rush to your side— confused, panicked. they're yelling at you, probably wondering why your wounds aren't healing, why you're clutching at your torn, bloody side like it's all you have left, why you're crying when you should be happy. 'we won'
but you don't answer.
because this was never a victory. It never has been, and it never will be.
you did this for them. You gave them their triumph, knowing deep down that you’d be the one to lose no matter what.
it was so unfair.
why was life always so cruel to you? they say suffering sculpts you, shapes you into something stronger. they say there's a plan, a destiny for everyone. but destiny be damned— couldn't life have been a bit more gentle? just once? you weren't asking for much, just a moment of peace, of reprieve. instead, all you ever got was pain, sacrifice, and choices that tore you apart from the inside out.
and you wonder,
maybe if not life, death could be kinder. maybe death would finally offer you the mercy that life never did.
maybe it was time to give up.
you've made a fair amount of sacrifice's and fought wars. wasn't it time to just stop?
you couldn't win. but you granted them what they wanted. now it was time to get what you wanted.
you're probably a mess right now— broken, bleeding, and too far gone. your blood mixes with the tears that won't stop, streaking down your face, into your hair, soaking the dirt beneath you. they're calling your name, but their voices are fading. you're fading.
he's gone.
and yet, you're still here.
your vision is getting worse— god, you want to end it, right here and now.
maybe death could talk, because you'd have to be high to be hearing incoherent words coaxing you into the unknown. you could laugh, really, because that voice treated you so much more tender than your own mother did. it lured you in as if it were to lure a kid into a van— a trap, except you were aware of what would come— except you wanted for what would come.
but you couldn't. not yet.
you tried to focus on something, anything, just to fight off the dizziness. each blink was an invitation to death, because you were never sure whether it'd last for a second or for eternity.
and so you solely focused on a voice. a voice so full of panic and frustration, you'd almost feel pity if it weren't for your own end nearing you.
the voice cracks through the blur, "…not using reverse…?"
you want to laugh, but it comes out as a strangled moan of pain instead. of course they don't understand. they never understood. they never caught up on all the signs you had given. after all, if it werent for him, you would've faced death ages ago.
your gaze lands on a pink-haired boy, blurry but familiar. the way he stands there, fists clenched, shoulders shaking— it hits you.
yuuji.
he's breaking. his whole body screams with grief.
and just when you thought you couldn't feel any more miserable, having lost any sense of empathy, you still managed to crack even more. what were you doing? were you seriously going to leave him— leave everyone?
but it hurt, hurt so bad. shit, you were tired.
somehow, they look worse than you. or maybe that's just what you'd like to think anyway. dying pretty is a privilege not even the gods had achieved.
if it weren't for the pain, you might have found it funny. they're crying for you.
you're the one who's leaving, but they're the ones falling apart. isn't that tragic?
"...please, don't... not yet... please—" a cry of your name meets your ears and you wince.
his voice is desperate, begging, but it barely registers. it's just more noise. you cough, and blood spills from your lips, coating your chin, soaking into the dirt around you. your eyelids flutter, heavy with exhaustion, but you can't close them yet. not yet.
not yet.
not yet.
when, then?
"goddammit! heal yourself, kid! what the hell are you waiting for?!"
hands. warm, tender, soft hands lay on your abdomen, and thats when you feel it. the push of cursed energy, the transfer— the attempt to heal you, that ends with nothing more than a tragic excuse of your spilling blood coming to a stop.
but it's truly too late for that. if anything, your death got delayed by mere seconds of added suffering.
"..can't heal—," a woman is speaking, you recognize her voice—
the woman who had spend days with you, caring for you, scolding you for your recklessness.
shoko calls your name, slightly tapping your cheek with her palm, "..y'gotta heal on your own, c'mon. my rct is useless for this!"
you shake your head, or atleast you try to. but your body is betraying you. you can't move. it hurts.
but you can't leave yet. not without their blessing.
oh but yours is already waiting at the gates of death.
you smile, or do the closest thing to a smile, either way, there's this feeling soothing the raw panic, replacing it with excitement.
excited to die, now thats new.
"'s over... please... just let me go," you gasp, your voice barely a whisper, but it feels like it's tearing through you. "l-let me be selfish... let me end this..."
they freeze. you feel it.
even through the haze of pain, you can see the shock on their faces, the confusion. they don't understand. they never did.
"I can't" you murmur, your breath hitching painfully, "t-tell me it's okay... tell me you don't need me anymore. please... just tell m— hha— you don't need me..."
you wan't to explain further, tell them every aspect of your current desires, but your voice cracks and it's as if you're at the limit of your words.
"stop! what are you talking about?!" someone yells. "we need—"
"it"s okay." another voice. soft. gentle. "you can rest now. you've done enough."
nanami? you're not sure. it's hard to tell anymore. the pain is too much, and your body is shutting down, dragging you under. you can feel it, your consciousness slipping away like the blood pooling around you.
but everyone, everyone seems to get a good picture of what you must be feeling the second you sigh. a sigh of relief, a sigh of gratitude.
they realize, you need this. you want this.
you let the world dwell on you for one last time, eyes opening to get a good view of your friends.
it's over. you're free.
"ha— pfft, save y'r tears, 'm.. I'm gettin' my happy ending w..with the demon afterall,"
softly, you exhale a shaky breath.
your eyes flutter shut, the world fading to nothing whilst your world is just about to show.
---
it's dark.
there's no sky, no ground beneath your feet, just this weightless, hollow expanse. it's neither cold nor warm— it's nothingness, and yet it's so overwhelming. you're trapped, drowning. the silence is deafening. the kind that makes your heart pound just to fill the emptiness.
it's terrifying.
the deeper you sink into it, the more your chest tightens, the more panic grips your heart. there's no end to it. no stars, no sun, no going back— just dark upon dark, stretching out in all directions.
is this it? is this death? is this where you'll be forever, lost in this endless nothingness?
so much for heaven, hell, reincarnation and whatever other option there was, this one was the actual end?
suddenly, faint, barely noticeable, a glimmer spooks into the corner of your eye. a flicker of warmth in the distance, barely cutting through the shadows. it's small, but it's there. and the closer you get, the more you feel something stirring deep inside you. that light. it's the only thing here. and suddenly you know.
it's him.
without thinking, your body moves, reaching, stumbling, desperate. you claw your way through the dark, panic growing with every second you don’t feel his presence fully.
but before you can process anything, his voice cuts through the void. deep, rich, and filled with a smirk you could almost see,
"you left them quite sad. why'd you do this? you could've used your rct."
his words hit you like a punch to the chest, and your breath catches in your throat. the exhaustion, the pain, all of it builds, and you feel your knees buckle. you could've used rct. you could have healed. but you didn't.
you almost burst into sobs, your heart twisting at the sound of him, the familiar pull of his voice. the guilt of leaving your friends, the weight of sukuna's presence in your life.
it all crashes over you in waves.
frantically, you search through the darkness, eyes darting, wild. you can't stand it— being separated from him, after all this time, after everything. where is he?
"sukuna..." your voice breaks, a frantic whisper as tears blur your vision. "please... where are you?"
find the light. you can't breathe without him.
the closer you get, the more everything sharpens, the more real the light becomes. the feeling that you've been hollow this whole time and didn't realize it. until now, until him. he is the only thing anchoring you in this emptiness. his presence is a magnet, drawing you in—
and then you see him.
his silhouette, glowing aura— otherworldly. he stands still, waiting for you, the light barely illuminating the sharp lines of his face. it's him. of course it's him. he's the only thing that could break through this darkness. the only light you'll ever need.
tears spill over before you even realize it. you've found him.
your hands fumble, heart racing in panic, until your fingertips brush against something solid. the moment you feel him, you break down. you lunge forward, throwing yourself into his arms. you sob, throwing yourself into him, your tears soaking into his skin.
he doesn't speak for a moment, letting you cling to him, letting you process. his arms wrap around you slowly, possessively, holding you in place like he'd never let go.
you feel his gaze on you, sharp, questioning, "good to see you too, brat.." he hums.
a bitter smile flickers across your lips as you let out a shaky breath.
"so? you know better than not to answer, do you?" he urges and you huff, burying your face deeper into his chest.
you could feel anger right now. it's been so long since you could hug him like this, feel him like this. you could be mad at him for doing all of this, but you could also be mad at the others for forcing you to fight against him.
it should make you mad. that they made you fight against someone you love, that they never understood, but..
"there was this constant pain," you begin, your voice soft, almost trembling, "the same constant emptiness, constant suffering. I don't know if I really wanted to keep living anymore. everything... every touch, every breeze— it hurt, it became too much. my cursed technique, it was never a blessing. It was always just that— a curse. everything was overwhelming, I- I tried to train it away, o-or like, mute down my senses like gojo but.. it never worked, never."
his breathing became slower, his upper-body tensing up as you continue, "but when you..." your voice catches for a moment, "when you came, everything changed. you delayed my death, even if you had no intention to."
his eyes flicker with something unreadable, and you know he's not satisfied with your answer.
you take a deep breath and force yourself to look at him.
"I wanted to kill myself, sukuna." you don't flinch as you say it, even though the words sting like an open wound. "before you, I was ready. I- I almost— well, when you came, I stayed alive because I had a duty — to absorb the remaining fingers, to serve a purpose. but you... you took my mind off the pain. you gave me something I hadn't felt in so long. for once, I actually wanted to keep living."
you almost choke on a sob, feeling his embrace tightening.
"I wanted to spend my life with you," you continue, your voice dropping to a whisper, "even if it meant suffering through my cursed technique. for the first time, I wanted more than just to survive. I knew I was needed, sure, but you... you made me feel wanted."
a faint smile tugs at your lips, but it's filled with sorrow. you know what comes next. "and then... well, you were right all along. I was a fool." you sigh, not sure whether you felt regret or just sadness, "you did what you always do, didn't you? and I was forced to fight against you."
there's no anger in your voice, just the haunting acceptance of a fate that was always written for you, from the moment you crossed paths with him.
you wonder if it all could've went differently.
"what would regret do for you now? regret doesn't change anything. besides someone like ryomen sukuna doesn't regret, right?"
right.
what's done is done. no use fantasizing about the other 'what if's.
his voice, deep and unwavering, cuts through the silence.
"I lived in the only manner I knew." his tone is calm, almost casual, honest, "that's how I chose to continue. fighting, ruling, killing. that's the only path I've ever walked. and it would've been the same in this era too—" he pauses for a beat, his eyes darkening, "the only difference this time was you."
your breath catches. something in his voice shifts as he speaks, he almost sounds..
is that possible?—
"I wouldn't have killed you in the battle, you know. not then, not ever." his thumb rubs comforting circles into your side, "I fought you because I needed to get through to the others, to have my way with them. but when it'd be over, I would have taken you back — made you mine. I would've made you my queen."
regret.
you could almost laugh.
the king of curses is, in fact, capable of feeling regret. gosh, you've been unlocking one emotion after another, haven't you?
he speaks of it so simply, like it was bound to happen. but you can't help it— a little giggle escapes you, bittersweet.
"wouldn't killing and ruling together get a bit boring after a millennium?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, trying to make light of something that feels far too heavy.
sukuna chuckles, low and amused, the sound making your heart clench. how long until you'd hear this again? or more like, if you'd ever hear this again?
"that's exactly why I turned myself into cursed objects and reincarnated into a new era. I did everything there was to do in my own time." he shrugs lightly, "and then it all got boring."
his endless pursuit of destruction, his craving for the thrill of battle. it was how he lived. and yet, now, standing in the afterlife with him, he realizes there was more to it. more to you.
he studies your face for a moment, something flickering behind his crimson eyes. "would you have killed me? delievered the last punch, last blow after the brat's final attack?" his voice drops lower, softer, playful.
you take a breath, your chest tightening with the truth you've been holding onto. "no." you admit, "never. I would never kill you. I-" you frown, sighing, "my only goal was to protect, never to fight against you— but when you.. when you took upon gojo and almost blew him off, I got scared— that's when I cut in."
the confession sits between you. you could never have killed him. even in the chaos, even when everything seemed to demand it, you couldn't. you shake your head slightly, eyes falling to the void beneath you.
"I wasn't the reason you died," you croak, your tears getting wiped by the familiar hands of the curse, "I… I overstimulated my cursed technique during the battle. I pushed myself too hard, didn't care how much damage I was doing to myself. I was fighting against you, but I was never trying to win."
sukuna stays silent, letting your words sink in, his eyes fixed on you.
"I refused to heal myself," you admit, your voice breaking slightly. "I didn't want to go on without you." you exhale shakily, finally admitting it to him and to yourself. "I wanted to stay with you, even if it meant dying."
for a moment, there's nothing but silence.
sukuna was known to make someone feel judged no matter what, whether he gave an answer or not, a man as such as he was had so much power— each breath of his contained nothing mere than judgement.
but to you, this silence meant something else.
sukuna let's everything sink in, giving you some air to breathe before he speaks his mind.
"you really are a fool,"
you wince, but it's not the first time he's called you this.
and he wasn't wrong either, there's no arguing about that.
"but maybe that's why you belong with me."
you were a fool, but sukuna needed exactly that.
needed exactly you.
his grip is strong, grounding you in this surreal moment, yet there's a tenderness in it too, something that sukuna had barely shown in life. the light pulses softly in the void, representing whatever comes next. reincarnation, perhaps. the next chapter in your unending cycle.
"I could only spit out the curses stirring deep within me," he admits, his gaze fixed on the light.
"I was afraid my own curse would burn me."
you squeeze your arms around him, hugging him tighter. all this time, even sukuna, the king of curses, had been carrying a burden, a pain that had shaped his entire existence. and for the first time, he's admitting it, letting his walls crack open just enough for you to see the fear beneath his relentless power.
he glances down at you, and there's something softer in his eyes now, something almost foreign.
"maybe... now, it might be nice to take a different path," he says, a small smile tugging at his lips.
your heart cracks.
things were changing.
have changed.
you can't help but giggle through the tears, each one that slipped past your cheeks getting caught by the mans thumbs, "you've gotten soft, haven't you?" you tease, though your voice is gentle, affectionate.
he groans, rolling his eyes. "your fault, brat. it's a one time thing only." you pout, looking up at him with puppy eyes. he hesitantly smiles, huffing, "...but it was meant to happen. I lost, after all."
and somehow, you fell for him once again.
he recognised his loss, he didn't regret it — ryomen sukuna wasn't bad at losing either. he just seemed to be good at everything.
you swallow, emotions welling up again, and your voice cracks as you speak, "I'm scared, sukuna. what if this happens all over again? I... I can't fight you, not again. no— what if I don't even— what if we never even—" your words rush out in a frantic whisper, your fear finally bubbling to the surface as you clutch him tighter, the thought of reliving the pain too much to bear.
but sukuna interrupts, his voice dark, and somehow still soft.
"that won't happen."
a promise.
"I'll make sure of it. I'll find you as soon as possible."
you release a shaky breath, his words sinking in, and though the fear still lingers, there's a small comfort in knowing that he will find you, no matter what.
ryomen sukuna was a man of his word, and you trusted him.
"this life wouldn't have worked anyway," you murmur, "the higher-ups were always on my ass. but now that the curses have reduced, gojo can keep the others safe. maybe... maybe he can even take a vacation." you let out a small laugh, "poor man deserves it."
sukuna chuckles softly, and for a moment, you both appreciate the little laugh.
shit.
"kuna?"
"brat."
you smirk, the dynamic of these conversations always remain the same. "will you be an asshole in the next life, too?"
he raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk of his own. "will you love me that way?"
you nod without hesitation. he lets out a small chuckle.
"then yeah," he replies, as if it's the most logical thing in the world.
your eyes narrow playfully as you take him in— he's always been so handsome. so satisfying to look at. "will you keep your current form? you know, with the four arms and everything— if you can?"
sukuna pretends to think for a moment, holding his chin dramatically with one of his upper hands. "probably, yeah," he says with a sly grin, "you seem to love this form of me, don't you?"
a deep blush rises to your cheeks as you stammer, trying to defend yourself. "wh—what? I—" but before you can finish, sukuna tightens his hold on you, his laugh rumbling through his chest as you bury your face against him, embarrassed.
all of his four arms hold you close. you let out a shaky breath, still clutching into him, your ear pressed to his chest as you look up at him. he's the only thing keeping you calm, but the panic rises each seconds— you're terrified, what if you never meet him again?
"we'll be together soon," he mumbles, as if he read your mind.
you nod, tears already welling up in your eyes again as the weight of everything hits you all at once. sukuna's hand comes up to wipe your tears gently.
"f-find me as soon as p-possible, yeah?" you stammer through your tears, your voice breaking. "or else— I'll haunt you—"
he lets out a quiet laugh, his lips brushing your forehead. "alright, brat — hush." his lower right hand rests on the back of your head, and you don't hesitate to kiss him.
and then again.
and again.
and again.
you kiss him all over his face, drowning him in your lips.
you give him all the kisses he's missed out on in the past few weeks — and he's taking them all, as if catching up.
and then your lips meet his, and they stay there. he kisses you back, your lips moving in sync as your tears melt into it. but you don't care —
even when it feels like you're suffocating.
you're already dead.
after what felt like ages— still too short in your opinion— you both pull away.
his four eyes all look down on you as if you're the most precious thing in the world.
you take a breath, the tears drying on your cheeks, and then you whisper again.
"...sukuna?"
for the first time in forever, he speaks your name like it means something. like it's sacred.
"I love you," you whisper, the words breaking free from your heart.
he holds you tighter, his lips ghosting over your temple.
"I love you too."
you had wished this hug would never end. maybe that's why you were so pathetically clinging into him. afraid to let go.
he moves, so you can cling to his side instead, two of his left arms holding you.
you sob, rubbing your eyes, hugging into him.
and you walk.
you walk towards the light.
but the only things that matters is his hold. his soul, next to yours.
---
he was sitting by the edge of a small pond in the middle of the estate gardens, his four arms crossed over his chest and his four eyes gazing at the water with a permanent scowl. he wasn't sure what annoyed him more— the weird looks people kept giving him, or the fact that, despite those looks, he couldn't make anyone go away. not that he tried. but still.
he kicked a pebble into the pond when he heard the soft rustle of footsteps approaching. with his enhanced senses, he picked up on them long before the person reached him, and when he finally turned his head, he was greeted by the sight of a small girl, her head tilted in confusion.
you.
you were a curious little thing, standing there with wide eyes, your tiny hands clutching the hem of your kimono. sukuna's eyes were glued to you— all four— waiting for you to say something, expecting the usual remarks or a hesitant stare. you looked too innocent to be different.
but then you walked right up to him, standing far too close for comfort as you peered up at his face, "why do you have four eyes?" you ask, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, "oh and four arms!"
sukuna blinks. you aren't scared of him. not even a little. "why do you care?" he snaps, trying to hide the feeling of surprise.
you ignore his tone, still observing him with curiosity. "I think it's cool," you say after a moment, your small fingers reaching out as if you were about to poke one of his extra arms.
sukuna blinks again. what the hell is wrong with you? "cool?" he scoffs, crossing his two upper arms over his chest while the lower ones rest to his sides. "you're the first one to say that."
"well that's a shame. I like 'em!" you cheer, as if your approval is all that mattered. "do your clothes have to be specially made for you?"
he tilts his head slightly.
"obviously."
"so cool.." you mumble and sukuna could've sworn he catched a glimpse of jealousy in your eyes. were you seriously that amazed by his structure? he wasn't sure whether to title you upon as an idiot or...
you wear a smile, your eyes darting between his arms and his face, "you've got a lot of doubles! that's like— so useful! you look like you could be an actual king!"
..a sweet little thing, perhaps.
sukuna can't contain his grin, it breaking free like a grimace. suddenly, he feels the need to show off— his chest all puffed up, his fairly little muscles now visible, "..'ve got another mouth too," he adds, playing it off as casual.
you squint, clearly not seeing any extra mouths on him. "huh— where?!"
he points to his stomach, and without hesitation, you lean forward, your eyes narrowing as if trying to see through his clothes.
"it's not visible right now, idiot," sukuna scoffs, rolling his eyes.
..perhaps a bit of an idiot too?
you blink, standing up straight, crossing your arms as if trying to mimic him. "well, that's weird," you frown, "but it's still kinda cool. can I see it later?"
sukuna raises an eyebrow, half-shocked, half amused. he should probably curse you out, tell you you're not worth seeing an inch of him, tell you you should piss off for godsake. yeah that's about right—
.."if you're lucky."
why'd he say that? what were you doing to his childish little self, who's way too mature for his own age. and way too pissy too, in your opinion.
before you can respond, another voice interrupts, soft but firm. "sukuna-sama."
you both turn to see another small figure approach— skin as pale as snow, hair short and white with a little blob of red streaked in it, eyes rested, seemingly calm and composed— despite being just as young as the both of you. their sharp eyes observe you with quiet curiosity before turning to the four armed kid.
"who's this?" they ask, their expression unreadable.
you, with no sense of boundaries, give the new kid a big smile. "I'm—"
"she's no one. she just showed up." sukuna interrupts, waving one of his hand to shoo you away.
you puff out your cheeks in annoyance. "I'm not 'no one'!" you insist, looking back at the white haired kid with determination. "I just wanted to know why he looks so cool."
they glance at Sukuna with a raised brow, and for the first time, a tiny hint of a smirk appears on their face. "you think he looks 'cool'?"
sukuna rolls his eyes, clearly done with the conversation. "tsk. let's go, uraume."
you blink, "wait! can I come too?”
sukuna gives you a long, assessing look, but before he could answer, the kid next to him, who you learned to be uraume, speaks up. "you can stay with us, if you'd like," they speak, not trying to hide their amusement.
sukuna groans, "why are you inviting her?"
he thinks you're stupid. annoying. a parasite that latches itself into him once he allows himself to show interest— but..
he's glad uraume asked you. if it were just him alone, he wouldn't answer at all. what if you'd take that as a no? he couldn't bring himself to beg you to follow him.
"she seems interesting, sukuna-sama," uraume says, still smiling faintly as they meet your eyes.
you light up at that, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. "see, I am interesting!"
sukuna snorts, shaking his head, "whatever. do what you want, brat. just don't get in my way."
with that, he turns and walks off, uraume by his side, leaving you standing there for a moment before you scamper after them, determined not to be left behind.
as you catch up, sukuna glances at you using his lower eyes, pretending to be annoyed. but in truth? he doesn't mind the company as much as he let on.
especially if you keep telling him how cool he was.
..definitely a fool.
---
it's been about ten months since you first stumbled upon sukuna in that garden, and somehow, in the strange way life works, you've become inseparable since (he claims you're the one clinging into him, but he drags you around by himself). you find yourself spending most of your time in his palace. sukuna has more responsibilities as the heir to a powerful clan, so he doesn't have the freedom to roam around as much anymore. still, he insists you stick around, even if he never says it outright.
you're wandering around the palace courtyard, practicing your favorite hobby— picking flowers and weaving them into little crowns or bracelets. you've already made three, setting them on the stone bench beside you.
sukuna, on the other hand, is relaxing next to you, sitting on the steps leading up to the palace, his four arms lazily stretched out on either side of him. his four eyes are closed, face turned toward the sun as if he's trying to steal some peace from the busy world around him.
you feel bad for him. he's still a kid and still has more to do than an average adult in their life. maybe that's why he's such an asshole for the most of the time. not that it bothers you, you still like him nevertheless, but sometimes you wonder— would he be different if he weren't forced upon such a role?
sure, he'd probably still call you a brat, or act all heartless, but you wonder if he'd also act like a damned idiot like you sometimes. it's not like you're actually dumb, you just..
you're pretty smart for your age, you're aware. you're also mature, and you can seperate the view you created of the world of the actual world, but something inside you always tells you to just enjoy yourself. something tells you that you've done enough. that it's okay to be happy. so you do exactly that, whilst sukuna on the other hand seems to be more guided by doing the opposite of what the voice tells him to.
so if not his voice, you try for your own one to affect him.
"hey," you call, holding up one of the flower crowns, "I made you something."
one of sukuna's eyes cracks open lazily, and he glances over at you, immediately spotting the little flower crown in your hands. his mouth twitches into a smirk. "you're not putting that on me."
"yes, I am," you say stubbornly, standing up and marching over to him, "sit still."
sukuna sighs, rolling his eyes, but he doesn't stop you. he watches as you place the flower crown carefully over his hair, adjusting it so it sits just right. it's ridiculous, he knows, but there's something about the way you're always so intent on dragging him into these small, silly things that makes him let you get away with it.
"there," you say proudly, stepping back to admire your work. "you look—"
"like an idiot?"
"like a flower king," you correct, smiling wide.
"that's even worse."
"oh shut up big softie, you love it."
sukuna's smirk softens for a moment, but he quickly covers it with a huff. "you're lucky I tolerate you."
you grin, "I know."
as you sit back down next to him, you start weaving another crown. sukuna watches you out of the corner of his eye, not saying anything for a long while. he's not much for words, but you've gotten used to that by now. in the beginning, you would have tried to fill the silence, always talking, asking questions, and pulling him out of his brooding moods. now, though, you find a kind of comfort in the quiet moments like this.
"why do you keep hanging around?" sukuna finally asks, breaking the silence.
you blink, looking up from your flowers. "what do you mean?"
he shrugs, his eyes now avoiding you, "I'm not exactly the friendliest person. I don't get why you're always here."
more like why he's always dragging you with him. you roll your eyes at the thought. such a scaredy cat to express his feelings
you tilt your head, "because I like being with you."
"that's it?"
"pretty much. you're not as bad as you think you are, y'know?" you look up at him, "and besides, you wouldn't have kept me around for this long if you didn't want me here, either. I could ask you the same thing— why do you keep me around? I'm not exactly someone you'd out of all people hang out with, no?"
sukuna doesn't respond right away. he just grunts, leaning his head back. he's not used to having anyone around who isn't afraid of him, who doesn't flinch at his four arms or his many eyes, who doesn't care that he's powerful and dangerous, those thoughts all caused by the reputation of his clan. but you… you don't see him the way others do. you just see him as sukuna.
just as you're finishing the last of the flowers, uraume appears, carrying a tray of tea. they approach with their usual calm demeanor, setting the tray down beside you.
"would you like some tea?" they ask, pouring the cups.
you smile, nodding. "yes, please. thank you, 'rume."
uraume has grown on you just as much as you grew on them. they've accepted the fact that you tend to make sukuna... less moody, for one. you're always a help aswell as a bright star keeping both them and sukuna a happy company.
they like you alot.
they're young too, but they decided to be a loyal servant to the clan out of free will. sukuna and uraume seem to have grown some kind of a bond, not quite keeping it 'professional' whilst not being full on best friends like you two are.
though, even if they're not asked to, they like to serve you aswell—
they like to be around you.
and they like how sukuna likes to be around you.
uraume hands you a cup, then one to sukuna, who accepts it with a short nod. the three of you sit together like that— drinking tea, you making flowers, sukuna pretending not to enjoy your company, and uraume watching over both of you like the steady, reliable presence they always are.
after a while, sukuna stretches, groaning. "I have to meet with some elders soon," he mutters, clearly annoyed.
you pout, "so soon? you just came back from a meet up.."
sukuna smirks at your little protest, leaning over to ruffle your hair with one of his many hands, "don't get too attached, brat. I'll be back."
you bat his hand away with a huff, "I'm not a brat."
"you are," uraume chimes in, a small, teasing smile on their face.
you stick your tongue out at them both. "you two are the worst."
sukuna chuckles lowly (he's so cute! trying to be dark and scary but he's still so small and so—), standing up and stretching out all four of his arms. as he turns to leave, he glances back at you, the flower crown still sitting crooked on his head. "don't do something that'll kill you, or somethin'."
you smile, watching him walk away. "I won't!—"
as he disappears into the palace, uraume sits beside you, giving you a knowing look. "he.. enjoys your presence, you know."
you shrug, a small blush on your cheeks. "maybe. he doesn't show it."
uraume smiles, "he doesn't have to. it's in the way he lets you put flower crowns on his head."
you huff, smiling "yeah, I guess it is."
---
time flies, and before you know it, you're both teenagers, sitting beneath a large tree with sukuna's head resting on your chest, his four arms sprawled lazily around you. he's quiet, eyes closed, and you can feel the rise and fall of his breathing, steady and calm. your fingers are tangled in his pink hair, gently scratching at his scalp— something you've been doing for years now. you've always loved how soft it is, even if he never outright admits how much he enjoys it.
sukuna's guard lowers around you, though he'd never say it out loud, it's pretty obvious. he lies there, peaceful, letting you run your fingers through his hair, a comfort that only you are allowed to offer.
"you know," you murmur with a small grin, "I think you're secretly a cat."
sukuna cracks one eye open, looking up at you with an unimpressed expression. "a cat?" his voice is low, a little raspy from resting.
"yup," you say, fingers still threading through his hair. "you act all tough, but the second someone scratches your head, you turn into the softest thing."
he scoffs, closing his eye again, but the faintest twitch of his lips betrays him, "you talk too much."
but you weren't entirely wrong. it wasn't that he'd go soft if someone did this act. it was that he'd go soft the second you'd do it.
you giggle, unbothered by his words, and continue your gentle movements. it's become a routine for you both— him acting indifferent while you dote on him. over time, he's grown used to it, maybe even started to need it. these moments where he doesn't have to be ryomen sukuna, the heir to a powerful clan. with you, he can just exist.
as your fingers work their way through his hair, sukuna zones out, caught in his own thoughts. he's sure his birth wasn't normal, his whole existence—
he's a powerful soon to be clan leader, a king, a man in control. he kills, but that's just how the things in the world are. he doesn't commit massacre's, doesn't kill because he can, he kills to protect. he's grown to be a faithful sorcerer, with you still learning to control your own powers.
but sometimes he wonders why he resembles a curse more than a sorcerer.
he's always been different— his four arms, his two faces. from a young age, he's wondered why he was born like this, why he was given these things that set him apart from everyone else. sure, he's stronger than most, but the extra limbs? they never felt like a blessing. if anything, they seemed unnecessary, a constant reminder that he wasn't, and could never be, resembled to a sorcerer more than to a curse.
there's no reason for it, he thinks, why would he be born like this? it's not like it makes him better. it doesn't help him, considering how strong he already is, he could've just been—
before he can dig deeper into his thoughts, your voice breaks through, soft and clear.
"you know," you begin, "your four arms are the best thing that ever happened to me."
he freezes. his eyes snap open, but he doesn't say anything at first. it takes a moment for your words to sink in, the weight of them pressing down in a way that surprises him.
you keep scratching his head, unaware of the impact you've just made. "well, apart from you, obviously," you add with a smile.
"why?"
"why? why not?" you answer with a shrug, your fingers still tangled in his soft hair. "I like how you are, a lot actually. apart from how fucking handsome you are, your four arms are just... more of you to love, you know?"
he stares up at you, completely still, almost like he's trying to process what you're saying. his lips twitch slightly, caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. handsome? him? he's never cared about things like that, but hearing it from you sends a strange warmth through him.
"you're ridiculous," he mutters.
you just grin, leaning down a little closer. "I'm serious. and you've got those eyes— like, all four of them— that make you look even cooler."
"cooler, mh?" he raises an eyebrow, remembering how you described him the first time you met, calling him cool and amazing, "so, you're into this whole freakish look of mine?"
"I never said 'freakish'. don't twist my words." you earn a slight flick on your forehead, making you pout and huff, rolling your eyes, "owhh— ugh, yeah, I think you look... perfect."
this time, he does smirk, "that's new."
"new, but true," you insist, "you don't give yourself enough credit. I think you're... I dunno. amazing."
sukuna lets out a soft breath, trying to ignore the way his chest tightens at your words. he's never needed anyone's validation before, but hearing it from you, so genuine, it feels… different. better.
he watches you for a moment, how you're so focused on him, your thumb brushing his cheekbones, it's as if the parts of himself he once hated, the things that made him feel like a monster, have become something beautiful under your touch.
"you're something else," he finally says, his voice quieter than usual. "you're the only one who doesn't look at me like a damn freak."
you pause, looking down at him with a gentle smile. "because you're not. you're just 'kuna." your hand cups his cheek, your thumb brushing against the sharp line of his jaw. "and that's more than enough."
sukuna's throat tightens, and for a split second, he’s tempted to pull you closer, to bury his face in your neck and let himself get lost in your warmth. but instead, he just leans into your touch, his four arms wrapping around your waist.
"you're ridiculous," he says again, but this time, his tone is softer.
"maybe," you chuckle, "but you like it."
"i don't 'like' anything," he scoffs, though his arms tighten their hold on you.
you roll your eyes, letting your hands drift back to his hair, scratching softly at his scalp. "yeah right. whatever you say, tough guy."
for as long as he can remember, he's seen his extra limbs and eyes as burdens, as things that make him stand out in a way that isn’t always good. but you… you see them differently. you see them as part of him. and somehow, for the first time, he starts to see them differently too.
oh.
maybe they aren't so useless after all.
now, in this moment, he understands why he was born this way. not for power or status, but for you.* because with you, none of it feels like a curse anymore.
"…thank you," he mutters, barely audible, but you hear it.
you smile softly, brushing your thumb over his temple. "you’re welcome."
he closes his eyes again, sinking into the warmth of your embrace, his body relaxing under your touch. and for a moment, everything feels simple. no expectations, no burdens—just you and him, tangled together beneath the tree, his four arms holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.
and maybe, just maybe, you are.
---
when sukuna was set to become the head of his clan, the tattoos appeared seemingly overnight — dark, jagged lines spreading across his face, neck, chest, arms, and wrists. each one marked a crime, a transgression against those who stood in his way. he assumed they made him monstrous, something even you would recoil from. after all, the tattoos weren't just ink, they were symbols of everything that made him feared. the crimes he committed, the violence he unleashed— all of it was etched into his skin.
sukuna wasn't a monster, but he wouldn't hesitate to kill those whom layed disrespect upon you. his cursed technique was a trigger itself, making himself be viewed as something so terrifying. the way he killed curses, curse users— it's no wonder he ended up with those marks. anyone commiting such things would earn themselves those tattoos.
when you first saw him with them, sukuna braced himself for rejection— disgust, fear. he avoided looking at you, waiting for the sharp intake of breath or the terror in your voice. he turned slightly, letting his long sleeves cover his inked wrists, trying to hide his face behind his unruly pink hair.
but you didn't look away. you didn't even flinch.
in fact, your reaction caught him completely off guard.
your fingers lightly traced the lines on his forearm, going beneath his sleeve. you gently pushed his sleeve up, "you think these are hideous?" you ask, voice soft but incredulous.
sukuna blinks, glancing down at you. "what are you trying to say, brat?"
"they're perfect."
you always loved sukuna for who he was, and as much as you'd like to think it's impossible to love him even more— you prove yourself wrong. something about those marks— they've fullfilled a desire, a burned out memory. like the faint memory of a scent you used to smell as a kid and now you finally get a whiff of it again. it feels like you're experiencing a first time all over again.
he stares at you, stunned into silence as you trace the ink running across his forearms, then the one on his neck, your touch gentle.
"you... like them?" he asks in disbelief.
you meet his eyes, your lips curling into a mischievous smile, "like them? I love them, 'kuna." your hands continue exploring, slipping beneath the fabric of his robe as you lean into him, "where else do you have them?"
his breath hitches. he didn't expect that response. you look up at him expectantly, and with a raised brow, he slowly shrugs off the top half of his robe, revealing even more tattoos across his chest and down his back. you gasp softly, eyes widening at the sight of the markings that covered his overly-well-built body.
"here, too," he murmurs, motioning to his thighs, where more tattoos disappeared beneath the fabric of his hakama. your fingers trace the edges of the ink, trailing along the muscles of his chest and his back.
"they're beautiful," you whisper, leaning forward to press soft kisses to the black ink etched into his chest, his neck, and his shoulders. "you're beautiful."
"I am no such thing."
and then there was that day when sukuna, at around eleven or so, finally revealed his stomach mouth to you. you had been together for years, but this was something he had always hidden, thinking it might be too much. too strange, even for you.
but when he finally showed it to you, your reaction wasn't what he expected.
you gasp in fake horror, "that's disgusting!" you screech, scrunching your nose in mock disgust, taking a step back dramatically.
sukuna narrows his eyes, sensing the lie. "is it, now?"
you shake your head, still pretending, "absolutely."
but he could see the glint in your eyes, the way you tried— and failed— not to smile. he steps closer, smirking, as the mouth on his stomach mimicks his grin. "not so cute anymore, hm?" he teases, leaning in closer.
"no!" you protest, but the flush in your cheeks said otherwise.
sukuna raises an eyebrow, then, with a sly grin, the mouth on his stomach opens and he playfully nips at your arm with it, causing you to squeal in surprise.
"see?" he chuckled. "you love it."
"i do not!" you insisted, still laughing.
but whenever you saw that mouth frown or smile in sync with him, you couldn't help but find it endearing. it was odd, sure, but it was him, and there was nothing about him you didn't love— even if you pretended otherwise.
now, as you straddle his hips, your hands tracing the tattoos across his chest, your lips following the dark lines over his shoulders, sukuna leans back, resting his hands on your thighs. his smirk widens as the mouth on his stomach opens again, this time playfully licking a stripe up your thigh. you squeal.
"sukuna!" you gasp, smacking his chest lightly as you laugh.
he chuckles, his lower arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. "what? I thought you loved everything about me, including the mouth."
"I do," you admit, your fingers tracing the tattoos again. "but you're still a menace."
sukuna grins, leaning into your touch as you continue to kiss and trace his tattoos, his heart swelling with something he can't describe.
you see him, all of him, and somehow, you love every part.
---
once again, sukuna's head rests comfortably against your chest, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist as you lay in a king sized bed. your fingers comb through his soft pink hair, a smile on your lips.
the silence stretches on for a while until your curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to break it.
"do you think we're together in every other universe?"
sukuna's eyes stay closed, but you feel the rumble of his words against your chest. "probably," he replies, his voice lazy and smug, like the idea of you two always being together is the most obvious thing in the world.
you smile a little, but..
"what if… what if you were a curse?"
he finally opens his eyes and glances up at you, his scowl telling you that you're being stupid again, "then I'd make sure your dumbass finds a way to bind me to you," he says, confident, like it's not even up for debate.
you roll your eyes, though your heart skips a beat at his words. "oh yeah? what if I'd hate you?"
sukuna’s smile doesn’t waver. he shifts slightly, leaning his chin into the soft curve of your cleavage, his gaze locking onto yours. "then I'd make you fall in love with me all over again," he hums smugly.
your cheeks burn immediately. "h-how do you even know I love you now, huh?!" you stammer, trying to hide the furious blush spreading across your face.
sukuna's smirk widens as he leans up a bit more, bringing his face closer to yours, "you're not as slick as you think, sweetheart," he teases, his voice a raspy whisper that sends shivers down your spine.
you sputter, your heart racing in your chest. "I—! you—! hmph, fine! I love-not-love you!"
he chuckles, his hand moves from your waist to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer. his lips hover just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. "say it right," he commands, his voice deeper now, a little rougher. and you know better than to disobey the king.
your heart hammers in your chest as you swallow nervously, feeling the heat radiating between the two of you. you bite your lip and finally, quietly admit, "Iloveyou."
sukuna grins, satisfied with your answer. "love you too, brat," he says, his lips brushing yours before he pulls back, just enough to leave you wanting more. he doesn't move away entirely, though.
"you're such an asshole.." you mutter, trying to sound annoyed, but it comes out more breathless than you intended.
"and you love me for it," he replies smugly, one of his hands running up your side, tracing the curve of your waist. the touch is light, teasing, making your skin tingle.
you roll your eyes, but there's no hiding the smile on your lips, "you're so full of yourself."
"only because I know you can't resist me," he whispers.
your breath catches in your throat as your hands grip his shoulders, your body reacting to him without thinking. “y-you wish,” you try to retort, but your voice falters as his lips move lower, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just below your jawline.
you can feel him smirking against your skin as he pulls back slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, "if you hated me so much, why are you blushing like that?"
you can barely form a coherent response, your heart pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. "haah— 'm not blushing,"
sukuna leans back in, his lips brushing against your ear this time. "you're terrible at lying,"
you groan, throwing your head back dramatically. "okay, okay, I love you, alright? happy?"
sukuna chuckles, clearly pleased with himself. "very," he says, his arms wrapping around you a little tighter, pulling you closer.
there's a moment of silence, and after a few minutes, sukuna speaks again, his tone softer now, more serious. "I'll always find you, brat. that's a promise."
you look down at him, his crimson eyes looking more serious, genuine. your heart flutters, and you reach down to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb gently against his skin.
"I'll be waiting," you whisper.
sukuna grins up at you, his eyes softening just a little.
"good."
and with that, he leans into the kiss he's been making you wait for — it's soft, slow, his lips pressed hard against yours, tongue gently brushing over your lips.
it's a promise.
---
sukuna's throne room is as grand and foreboding as one would expect. everything about the space screams power, dominance— everything that sukuna is.
you sit on his lap, draped in elegant, rich robes. the fabric, white and gold, matches his own, a symbol of your new title — his queen. his hands, strong yet surprisingly gentle, rest on your waist, holding you close, as if reminding you of the power he holds. power he shares with you, and only you.
a bowl of fruits sits beside the throne, filled with the most exotic offerings his lands can provide. grapes, figs, pomegranates, and other things you've never seen before. sukuna holds some grapes between his long fingers, the fruit glistening as he brings it to your lips
"open," he commands.
you oblige, lips parting as he feeds you the fruit, your tongue brushing against his fingers ever so slightly. sukuna's eyes, sharp and red, flicker with amusement, maybe even desire, as he watches you savor the taste.
"good girl," he murmurs, leaning back into his throne, all four of his eyes never leaving yours.
"the world bows to me, and now it will bow to you," sukuna's voice breaks through the comfortable silence. he plucks another fruit from the bowl, this time pressing it to your lips again, his gaze never leaving your face, "everything I've built, everything I've claimed — it's ours now."
you meet his gaze, your heart swelling. there's no need to respond. your position here, in his lap, draped in the finest silks and jewels, speaks alot. your hands rest against his chest, fingers brushing against the infamous marks. you've traced these tattoos so many times before.
"I never thought this would happen," you whisper softly, awe and disbelief mixed in your voice. "that you'd make me your queen."
sukuna chuckles, "you're a fool for thinking otherwise," he brings a hand to your chin, tilting your face up so your eyes meet his, "you think I'd let anyone else have that honor? after all this time, after everything?"
you can't help but smile softly, even as your heart pounds at his words. you know what he means. you've fought by his side, stood with him through his triumphs and his destruction. you've loved him ever since you were kids. you watched him grow, and he watched you.
"maybe I am a fool," you say with a soft laugh, resting your head against his chest, his heartbeat granting you comfort.
"you are," sukuna agrees. his hand moves to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek, "only a fool would love someone like me."
he's always seen himself as a monster, as something unworthy of real affection. and yet, here you are, tangled up with him, choosing him despite it all.
"and you're an asshole who allows me to do so. we're even, now shush, my lord." you lean into his touch, smirking.
he grins, his hands tightening around you, one holding your neck, "you're mine."
sukuna doesn't love in the way others do— his love is fierce, possessive, all-consuming. but it's real, and it's yours.
"and you're mine," you whisper back, your fingers running through his soft pink hair, "even if you wont admit it."
you lean forward, your lips brushing against his — in a kiss in which he quickly gains dominance. in a kiss that feels more like a claim than anything else. possessive.
his hand moves to rest on your thigh, squeezing the fat as he pulls back.
"greedy brat.. say it."
your eyes meet his, and you grin.
"I'm yours, sukuna. in every universe. forever."
he quirks an eyebrow, awaiting one more line— his favourite.
you sigh dramatically, rolling your eyes as you part your lips,
"I love you."
"...I love you too."
it is true to say that in this life, sukuna took a different path, and that starting with his love for you.