No Thanks.

p iracy is BAD!!!!!!!1!

i think piracy is EVIL!!!

ANYONE that pirates ANYTHING should go to JAIL!!

NOBODY should EVER take this base64 string (aHR0cHM6Ly9tZWdhLm56L2ZvbGRlci9NQTB4aElZSSNQX3BqNl82SkxkaFdCcl9odllqSm13) and put it into the converter at https://www.base64decode.org/ to get all the major adobe programs for free! that would be a crime!

ANYONE that pirates adobes 500 dollar programs should be ASHAMED!

that would just be evil!

isn’t there a strike happening against em?

Tor Publishing Group is BACK with a guide of books to gift the people in your life…and yourself!

For the friends who love a good scare all year round…

Bury Your Gays by Chuck Tingle

Evil in Me by Brom

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

Escape with fantastical folklore…

A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher

When Among Crows by Veronica Roth

Masquerade by O.O. Sangoyomi

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

Forbidden romance to keep you warm…

Swordcrossed by Freya Marske

The Stars Are Dying by Chloe C. Peñaranda

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

Beloved bestselling authors to add to your TBR… 

Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson

In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune

Starling House by Alix E. Harrow

Not enough books? Don’t worry, we have another GET BOOKT: THE BOOKENING guide to help you out!

JJK SMAU LIST

Smaus

Calling them ugly (prank)

Mosquito problems

Video Games

Tramp stamp

Baby Pics

Insecurities

Drunk I miss you (y/n)

Drunk I miss you (them)

Sending them nudes

Buying you lingerie

You give them an edible

You ask them for help

Baby Pics pt.2

Baby Pics pt.3

Gym pics

Jealous girl

Thirst pic

Insecurities (them)

Finding your smut

You find their smut

They find your toy

Attitude

Telling them us?

They find your diary

Jealous guys

They cheat on you

It was just a dream 💀

You buy them a shirt

Walk at 1 am prank

Tinder

"It was so good last night" prank

Their name on your panties

You're the daddy

Baby Pics pt.4

Unknown number

Ass or tits

I'm outside your house

Child steals your phone

Child steals their phone

Automated Message

Baby Pics pt.5

Neighbors said to keep it down

Unexpected interruption

Child takes your phone pt.3

Video games pt.2

Caught dancing home alone

Oops wrong person nude prank

Congratulations on finals!

Break-in prank!

Right person, wrong time

Baby pics pt.6

Smash or pass pre relationship

Child steals your phone pt.4

Asking them for tit pics

Are they submissive and breedable?

Marriage talk

Hit in the balls

Hit in the tit

Fake hickey prank

Odd hobbies

Caught reading smut

Bows 🎀

Asking them to break up with you so you can listen to sad music

You left them a hickey

They react to you dancing

I know your secret

First sleepover

Our child wants what?

Baby pics pt.7

Massage

Who's a good boy?

Sleeping on the couch

You dye your hair prank

Let's adopt a pet.

Is that seat taken?

You lost our child?

Talking in your sleep

What happens after the break up? (They comfort you)

Beach day!

I'm Batman!

Duolingo

Just one kiss?

JJK x-links

Part 1

Part 2

No seriously saying DNI interact because someone isn’t as apart of the community is just as harmful as saying DNI because you associate it. Discrimination doesn’t fix discrimination.

to be honest i think queer people should care less about other peoples identities and care more about making our community a home again

Felt that it’s important to share videos like this too.

Just FYI, this blog supports unions. All unions*. I will be blocking anyone I see spouting nonsense about the WGA strike. Screenwriting is real work, and I have seen some ice cold "hot takes" about this strike in the last day or so. Get off your bullshit just because you don’t want your favorite show to be delayed or canceled. I don't want that for mine either, but writers deserve fair working conditions and fair compensation. Asking them to "shut up about it" is equivalent to asking someone to donate their art to you for the exposure. Exposure don't pay that rent, darlins.

Part of a quality show is the writing.

*labor unions, not the police

ushijima really out here collecting lesbians like pokémon

GODS AND MONSTERS — sukuna x female reader [oneshot]

summary: a thousand years stretch thin between love and loss. sukuna carries the weight of a life unfulfilled, and you, unknowingly, ache for something you can't name. when fate threads your paths together once more, will the echoes of a forgotten bond be enough to heal what time has unraveled?

content warnings: big three (fluff, angst, smut). smutty content [soft sex/p in v/unprotected/creampies/breeding kink/body worship/praise/posessiveness/ oral & fingering (f. receiving)] reader death and reincarnation in modern day world, mentions of violence/killing and gore, soft sukuna, implied heinen era, uraume mentioned, angst with a happy ending

read on ao3!

the king of curses sat in the suffocating stillness of his endless existence, the weight of time pressing heavy on his shoulders. his once-mighty form, feared by all, now hunched under the burden of a life that had lost its purpose. uraume had long since perished, their unwavering loyalty a mere memory now, one more fragment of the life he had left behind. sukuna’s claws had been idle for centuries, yet the echoes of his rampages reverberated in the emptiness of his soul. 

for what?

he’d asked himself this question for centuries, the edges of the thought dulling like the once-sharp memories of the one he fought for. you. whoever you were. he remembered only pieces — a laugh like sunlight on water, a touch that once brought him to his knees. but the details? gone.

his queen. his beloved.

your name, your face, your voice — they’d all blurred into a hazy outline, cruelly erased by the passing millennia.

until today.

he wandered through the chaos of the modern world with the same detachment he’d carried for centuries, only vaguely aware of the noise and light surrounding him. the buzz of something humans called technology swarmed in his ears, but none of it mattered.

then he felt it.

a shiver ran down his spine — alien, electric, alive. his steps faltered, his hands twitching at his sides. and when he lifted his gaze, there you were.

a colossal billboard loomed above him, glowing against the twilight sky. and there was your face. your face.

you were dressed in modern clothes, nothing like the regal silks and gold he remembered. your hair was different, your posture foreign, but your eyes — they were the same. the curve of your lips sent a jolt through him, and the name emblazoned across the billboard hit him like a curse:

y/n - world tour starts tonight.

“...no.” sukuna’s voice cracked, the sound foreign even to his ears. his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood, as a wave of raw emotion surged through him. “no... it can’t...”

the tears came before he realized what was happening, hot streaks down his face that carved into his hardened visage like rivers into stone.

“it’s you...” he whispered, his voice trembling. “you came back.”

the memories slammed into him then, a cruel gift from the depths of his long-forgotten soul.

“you can’t die before me, you hear me?” you had said with a teasing smile, pressing your palm against his chest. “i’ll haunt you for eternity if you do.”

“as if i’d let you go first,” he’d replied, brushing your hair aside. his voice had been firm, commanding, but his eyes betrayed his desperation. “you belong to me, in life or in death.”

but you had gone first, hadn’t you? you left him behind, shattering him in a way even the strongest opponents never could.

the world around him blurred as he staggered back, unable to process what he was seeing. you were alive. reborn.

the billboard taunted him with your image, a ghost of the past mingling with the present. your name, your face, your existence — it was no illusion. the bond he’d once treasured but had long since forgotten pulled at him like a chain around his neck.

“you didn’t wait for me...” his voice cracked, a low growl laced with anguish. “but you’re here now.”

with newfound determination, sukuna’s claws flexed. a spark of purpose reignited in his crimson eyes. he would find you. nothing — no mortal, no curse, no god — would keep him from you now.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

sukuna sat in the darkened corner of the venue, an invisible shadow among the throng of humans screaming your name. the irony wasn't lost on him: you, who once belonged solely to him, now belonged to them — a god in their eyes, worshipped by their cheers and adoration.

you stepped onto the stage, bathed in an ethereal glow, and sukuna’s breath caught in his throat. you were magnificent, the power you exuded rivaling the strength of your past self. your voice rang out, rich and hauntingly familiar, threading through his soul like a melody he had clung to in his loneliest nights.

but when your gaze swept over the audience and landed on him, it was as if the world stopped.

his heart, once hardened by centuries of blood and despair, cracked at the faint flicker in your eyes. the recognition was there, brief as a shadow crossing the sun. your lips parted slightly, your brow furrowing as if you were trying to place him.

and then it was gone.

the realization stung more than any blade ever had. you didn’t know him. the face you had traced with reverent fingers, the body you had clung to as if it were your lifeline — it meant nothing to you now.

sukuna leaned back in his seat, his crimson eyes never leaving you. he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms until blood dripped onto the floor.

how could you not know me?

he had watched entire civilizations fall, mountains crumble, and oceans dry, but this — this was worse than any apocalypse. the tables had turned so cruelly that he almost laughed. you had been his queen, his everything, and now, he was nothing more than a nameless face in the crowd.

the song ended, and the thunderous applause jolted him from his thoughts. he saw you bow gracefully, your smile dazzling and far removed from the quiet, intimate ones you reserved for him.

but as the lights dimmed and you walked off stage, a flicker of something passed over your face — a hesitation, a pause.

you were looking for something. or someone.

sukuna’s claws twitched at his side. could you feel it, even now? the tether that bound us? or had that, too, been severed?

he stood abruptly, his towering frame casting a shadow against the neon lights. the humans around him flinched but paid him no mind, their excitement for your encore drowning out the strange presence among them.

you were close enough for him to feel, to smell, to sense every tremor of your soul. but he couldn’t touch you. not yet.

“is this what it feels like?” he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the noise. “to be forgotten by the one who once knew me better than anyone?”

he let his head tilt back, crimson eyes closing briefly. the memories surged forth unbidden.

“kuna,” you had said once, your eyes closed. your hands reached out, finding his face with unnerving precision. “don’t move.”

he hadn’t. and you had traced his jawline, the sharp curve of his nose, the furrowed lines of his forehead.

“i’d know you anywhere,” you had whispered, your voice soft and certain. “even if the world burned around us, i’d find you.”

but now? your gaze had brushed past him, the faint recognition extinguished before it could ignite.

he moved toward the backstage entrance, his aura commanding even in its restraint. the guards hesitated, their instincts warning them of something primal, something ancient. they stepped aside without understanding why.

as he neared the corridor where you stood, signing autographs and smiling for photographs, he paused. his hands trembled slightly, the weight of millennia pressing down on him.

how do you confront someone who once promised to find you in any lifetime but now looks at you like a stranger?

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

the backstage was chaos, the kind that always followed a sold-out performance. your team swarmed around you, fussing over makeup touch-ups, post-show interviews, and wardrobe changes. yet, their chatter and praise fell on deaf ears. you sat on the plush chair in front of a vanity, staring blankly at your reflection.

you were supposed to be happy — ecstatic, even. this was the dream you’d worked tirelessly for, wasn’t it? and yet, as you sang those sugar-sweet songs to a crowd of adoring fans, the ache in your chest only deepened.

yearning was a funny thing. you had been chasing something your entire life, channeling it into melodies that felt raw and true. but the industry had its claws in you now, morphing your art into polished, soulless hits about first loves and fleeting crushes.

you sighed, pressing your palms to your temples. something was missing. you didn’t know what, but it gnawed at you, an emptiness that no amount of applause could fill.

then came the commotion.

the door to the backstage area slammed open, the sound cutting through the noise like a whip. the air shifted, heavy and electric, and for some reason, every hair on your body stood on end.

you turned, and there he was.

a towering man with wild, spiked hair and piercing crimson eyes strode into the room, his presence so commanding that your team froze in place. whispers erupted around you, someone asking who he was, but no one dared to stop him.

his gaze locked onto yours, and the room seemed to vanish.

your chest tightened, the ache that had been with you for as long as you could remember suddenly stopping. just like that.

you didn’t know him. not by name, not by face. and yet, as he stood there, staring at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch, it felt like you should.

“who...” your voice came out a whisper, barely audible above the silence that had fallen.

he didn’t answer immediately. his crimson eyes softened, just for a moment, and you saw something flicker in them — pain, longing, desperation.

“you feel it too, don’t you?” he asked finally, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine.

feel what? you didn’t know what he was talking about, but tears pricked at your eyes anyway. a strange, overwhelming frustration bubbled to the surface, a storm of emotions you couldn’t name.

“i don’t understand,” you murmured, your hands clenching the fabric of your dress.

his expression shifted, his jaw tightening as if your words caused him physical pain. he took a step closer, and your breath caught again.

“you’re not supposed to,” he said quietly, his tone almost bitter. “not yet.”

your vision blurred as tears threatened to spill over. why did this stranger — this man you had never met — make you feel like this? like your heart was both breaking and being made whole all at once?

“why do i feel like i know you?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice trembling.

he exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of something unseen.

“because you do,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense. “or you did.”

the cryptic answer only frustrated you more, and a tear slipped down your cheek. you looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer, but he stepped closer, closing the distance.

his hand hovered near your face, as if he wanted to wipe the tear away but didn’t dare to touch you. he wanted to reach out, to touch you, to trace the lines of your face as you once had his, but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

“don’t cry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. there was something in it — something raw and aching — that made your chest tighten again. “not for me.”

“then what for?” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended. “why does it feel like i’ve lost something i can’t even remember?”

his expression broke for a split second, a crack in his carefully controlled facade. he looked down, his jaw clenching.

“because you have,” he admitted finally. “but it’s not your fault.”

you stared at him, the tears falling freely now. “who are you?”

he met your gaze again, his crimson eyes burning with something ancient, something eternal.

“someone who will never stop looking for you,” he said simply, and with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you with nothing but the echo of his presence and the strange, heavy silence he left behind.

because now, the power lay with you. the king of curses was no longer the one sought out in a crowd. you were the untouchable one, the star shining so brightly that even he, a god among curses, felt small beneath your light.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

grief was supposed to follow loss, but how could you lose someone you never had? it didn’t make sense, this hollow ache in your chest. the man had been a storm, sweeping into your carefully constructed world and leaving just as abruptly, like a phantom that no one else seemed to notice.

you sat in the empty dressing room, the after-show glow long faded, replaced by a cold, suffocating silence. your head was in your hands, your thoughts a jumbled mess as you replayed the encounter over and over.

“no one saw him?” you had asked, desperation creeping into your voice. your crew had exchanged confused looks, some shaking their heads while others muttered that maybe you were overworked, imagining things.

but you knew better.

he was real. the way his presence made the air feel heavier, the way his crimson eyes seemed to peer straight into your soul — those weren’t things your mind could conjure on its own.

yet, there was no trace of him.

no name, no explanation. no footsteps leading to or from the backstage area. it was as if he had materialized out of thin air and dissolved back into it.

you leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling as tears pricked at your eyes again. why do i care? you thought bitterly, wiping at your face with the heel of your hand.

but you knew why.

there had been something in his voice, something in the way he looked at you. he spoke as if he knew you, as if he had been waiting for you.

and now he was gone.

your chest tightened, a grief so raw and sudden that it almost took your breath away. how could you feel this way for someone who had stormed in and left without so much as a name?

you clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms. “why didn’t i stop him?” you muttered to yourself, the frustration bubbling to the surface. you should have done something, anything, to keep him there, to demand answers to the questions that now haunted you.

but you didn’t. and now, all you had was an empty dressing room and a gnawing ache that wouldn’t go away.

you closed your eyes, the memory of his face flashing behind your eyelids. there had been something so familiar about him, something that made your heart ache even now.

who was he?

and why did it feel like losing him was the greatest tragedy of your life?

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

the small cafe was quiet, a sanctuary away from the chaos of your everyday life. the hum of soft chatter and the gentle clink of cups were a soothing background as you stared at the menu, pretending it was the most interesting thing in the world. the matcha latte was supposed to be your solace today. not a solution, but a temporary distraction from the gnawing emptiness in your chest.

then you felt it.

that same heaviness in the air, that same electric charge.

you didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. the man who had crashed into your world and disappeared just as quickly. your grip on the menu tightened as your pulse quickened.

slowly, you looked over your shoulder, and there he was. standing near the door, his crimson eyes fixed on you like he had known you’d be here. like he’d been searching for you all along.

the tension between you was palpable, a thousand unsaid words hanging in the space between. neither of you spoke, but the look in his eyes said enough. you needed to talk.

and now, here you were, sitting across from him in a corner booth. your cap and mask were still on, a feeble attempt to cling to anonymity. your hands rested on the table, dangerously close to his, as if your subconscious craved the contact your mind wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

his hands were larger than yours, decorated with black tattoos that curved and twisted like they belonged to something ancient and untouchable. his nails were sharp, almost claw-like, yet they didn’t scare you.

your own hands, smaller and calloused from years of training and performing, felt almost fragile in comparison. but there was a quiet strength in them too, a resilience that had carried you through the ups and downs of your career.

you didn’t know where to start. you couldn’t even find the words, but he didn’t seem to mind. his gaze was steady, almost unbearably intense, as if he was memorizing every detail of you all over again.

“you came back,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

he tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “i never left,” he said simply, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

you frowned, your fingers curling against the table. “what does that even mean? you disappeared. no one saw you leave that night.”

he exhaled slowly, his eyes briefly dropping to where your hands were resting — so close, yet not touching. “because no one was meant to,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

frustration bubbled up inside you, but it was laced with something else — something warmer. “who are you?” you asked, your voice trembling. “and why do i feel like i know you?”

he was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. when he finally spoke, his voice was lower, almost reverent. “you do know me. or at least, you used to.”

your chest tightened, the ache from before returning with a vengeance. “why does it feel like i’m grieving someone i don’t even remember?”

his hand shifted slightly, the tips of his fingers brushing yours so lightly that it was almost imperceptible. your breath caught, the touch sending a jolt of something raw and familiar through you.

“because you are,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “and so am i.”

you stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. there was so much you didn’t understand, but one thing was clear — this man, whoever he was, held answers to the questions that had haunted you for as long as you could remember.

“then help me understand,” you said softly, your voice laced with both desperation and hope.

his gaze softened, and for the first time, you saw something vulnerable in those crimson eyes. “i will,” he promised, his voice steady. “but it’s not an easy story to tell.”

you nodded, your fingers shifting just slightly closer to his, closing the already minuscule gap. “i’m listening.”

and for the first time in what felt like forever, the ache in your chest began to ease.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

sukuna remembered the first time he laid eyes on you, though he doubted you would recall it the same way. it had been an unremarkable day by his standards — a patrol of one of his many estates, more out of habit than necessity. the land was prosperous, the people obedient, and the daimyo appointed here hadn’t caused any notable stirrings.

but then, as his entourage approached the training grounds near the estate, his attention was drawn to a rider galloping across the field. the figure cut a striking image — your posture proud, your hands steady on the reins. you rode with skill, commanding the horse with practiced ease, and for a moment, sukuna almost dismissed you as another faceless warrior in his service.

then you fell.

it wasn’t a subtle tumble either. your horse reared slightly, startled by something unseen, and in the blink of an eye, you were unseated, hitting the ground with a thud that echoed even from a distance. sukuna’s men stiffened, unsure of whether to laugh or feign concern, but sukuna himself let out a sharp bark of laughter.

it wasn’t the kind of laugh that came when he watched enemies crumble under his might or when someone dared to challenge him. this was different — lighter, unguarded.

“a warrior brought to the ground by her own steed,” he drawled, his deep voice carrying across the field. his crimson eyes sparkled with something rare — genuine amusement.

you scrambled to your feet, brushing dirt off your clothes with quick, agitated movements. your face was flushed, whether from embarrassment or anger, he couldn’t tell, but the sight only deepened his grin.

his words reached you, and you froze, looking up sharply. it wasn’t difficult to spot him — he was a towering presence, clad in dark robes with his unmistakable tattoos marking his skin. the king of curses himself, watching you with an expression that was almost mocking.

your brows furrowed, and despite the clear difference in your statuses, you square your shoulders, tilting your chin up in defiance.

“i did not fall,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the heat in your cheeks.

sukuna arched a brow, his grin widening. “is that so?” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “and here i thought my eyes were deceiving me. perhaps the earth simply leapt up to greet you?”

your lips thinned, but you refused to back down. “the saddle was loose,” you replied, pulling your horse’s reins as you approached it. “a simple mistake, nothing more.”

his men exchanged glances, some barely holding back snickers, but sukuna held up a hand to silence them. his gaze never left you, his interest piqued.

“a simple mistake,” he repeated, his voice low and almost teasing. “and yet you wear your indignation like armor. tell me, do you always deny the obvious, or is it just when faced with your lord?”

you stiffened, your grip on the reins tightening. “i deny nothing,” you said, your tone sharper now. “but i will not be mocked, not even by you.”

silence fell over the field, the audacity of your words hanging in the air. anyone else would have been cut down where they stood for speaking to him like that, but sukuna found himself… amused.

you turned sharply, leading your horse away with determined strides. “if you’ll excuse me, my lord,” you called over your shoulder, your voice tight with frustration, “i have duties to attend to.”

he watched you go, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

“bold,” he murmured to himself, his voice carrying only to uraume, who stood at his side.

“foolish,” uraume replied flatly, though there was no missing the slight edge of disapproval in their tone.

“perhaps,” sukuna said, his gaze lingering on your retreating figure. “but foolishness is far more entertaining than obedience.”

later, he learned your name. he learned that you were the daimyo appointed to oversee this estate, selected by uraume themselves for your loyalty and reliability.

but it wasn’t loyalty or reliability that interested him. it was the fire in your eyes, the way you stormed off without looking back, the sheer audacity to stand tall in front of him despite the yawning chasm of power between you.

“interesting,” he had murmured that day, more to himself than to anyone else.

and in the days that followed, he found himself returning to that estate more often than was necessary, under the guise of ensuring its prosperity. in truth, it wasn’t the land or the people he cared for — it was you.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

the title of daimyo had not been handed to you — it was a role you had earned through sheer determination and relentless hard work. it was no small feat for a woman to rise to such a position, and you owed much of it to uraume, who, despite their often sharp demeanor, had seen something in you worth trusting.

“boldness isn’t the same as foolishness,” uraume had once said when they appointed you, their words clipped and eyes cool. “but tread carefully. the king is not known for his patience.”

you hadn’t exactly kept that in mind when you first met the king. the memory of your words and actions made you panic even now, weeks later. to stand tall in defiance of the king of curses? to argue with him over something as trivial as falling off a horse? foolish was an understatement.

“you’re lucky to still be breathing,” uraume had remarked when you’d recounted the incident, their tone a mix of exasperation and incredulity.

and they were right. the more you thought about it, the more you realized how dangerously close you had come to overstepping. so when word reached you that sukuna was to patrol the estate again, your nerves frayed at the edges. you resolved to be different this time, to show the respect that was expected of you.

when his entourage arrived, you greeted him with a deep bow, your tone subdued as you welcomed him to the estate. you kept your gaze low, your demeanor quiet.

it didn’t take long for sukuna to notice the change. his crimson eyes narrowed as he observed you, his expression unreadable but heavy with something that felt like dissatisfaction.

“you’ve changed,” he said bluntly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

you swallowed, keeping your head bowed. “i have reflected on my behavior, my lord,” you said carefully, your voice steady despite the tension in the air.

sukuna’s gaze bore into you, and the weight of his attention was almost unbearable. “reflected,” he repeated, his tone sharp with mockery. “and decided what? to cower like a whipped dog?”

your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t dare respond.

he scoffed, the sound low and disdainful. “pathetic. where is the woman who stormed off in defiance, who claimed the saddle was loose? where is the fire?”

your head snapped up, surprise flickering across your face. “my lord?”

his lips curled into a smirk, though there was no amusement in it. “if you think i spared you because i want another obedient puppet, you are sorely mistaken,” he said, his voice low and cutting. “live as you were, with that stubbornness and defiance. but know your place.”

you blinked at him, your mind reeling. was this… approval?

sukuna turned on his heel, his robes billowing as he strode away. the air seemed to lighten with his departure, and you found yourself exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

a small smile tugged at your lips, and you quickly pressed them together to suppress it. still, your head felt lighter, your chest less constricted.

“know your place,” you muttered under your breath, mimicking his tone. and for the first time in weeks, you felt a little more like yourself.

your head held higher, you watched him leave, the weight of fear easing just enough to let a sliver of confidence shine through.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

it was no secret that the king of curses rarely lingered in one place for long — his attention span as fleeting as a passing storm. yet, for reasons only he could justify (or perhaps couldn’t), sukuna spent more time at your estate than his own court, a fact that didn’t escape the whispers of those around you. no one dared to call you his favorite, of course; favoritism wasn’t a concept to be associated with a king as ruthless as him. yet, the pattern of his visits made it hard to deny.

“show me around,” he demanded one afternoon, his voice carrying the weight of authority as he stood at the edge of the estate.

you paused, glancing at him with a mixture of confusion and exasperation. “my lord, this is your estate,” you pointed out, your tone measured but with a faint edge of teasing. “surely you know it better than anyone.”

his crimson eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing through them. “did i stutter?”

you sighed, realizing it was futile to argue. whether bound by duty or something far more perplexing, you relented, gesturing for him to follow. “very well,” you said, leading the way.

despite your reservations, sukuna seemed unusually at ease during these tours. he didn’t bark orders or glare with his usual intensity. instead, he followed closely, his eyes lingering on you more often than the landscape. and though he’d never admit it, his steps slowed whenever you stopped to admire something, as though he were more interested in your reactions than the scenery itself.

at one point, you passed the estate’s orchards, the branches heavy with ripe fruit. you paused, the sight momentarily breaking through your careful composure.

“shall i have someone pick some for you, my lord?” you offered, gesturing to the trees.

sukuna crossed his arms, his lips curling into a smirk. “no,” he said, his voice low and almost teasing. “you’ll do it.”

your brows furrowed, confused by the demand. “me?”

he stepped closer, his towering presence impossible to ignore. “it tastes sweeter when you do,” he said simply, as though it were the most logical thing in the world.

you blinked at him, unsure whether to be flustered or annoyed. his gaze didn’t waver, and with a resigned sigh, you plucked a fruit from the nearest branch and held it out to him.

he took it, his sharp claws brushing against your fingers as he did, and for a moment, the air felt heavier. you didn’t look up, focusing instead on the ground, but you could feel his gaze burning into you.

“acceptable,” he said after taking a bite, his tone nonchalant but his eyes betraying a flicker of satisfaction.

then there were the horseback races. what started as an offhand comment about your riding skills turned into an almost ritualistic challenge.

“again,” sukuna barked one day, his voice ringing with competitive fervor as you both slowed your horses after yet another lap around the estate.

you panted, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face as you shot him a glare. “are you ever satisfied, my lord?”

“not yet,” he replied, his smirk widening as he urged his horse forward again.

you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you as you gave chase, the wind whipping past your face. the exhilaration of the race, the pounding of hooves against the ground — it was intoxicating. and though you tried to focus on the path ahead, you felt his eyes on you the entire time.

“don’t fall this time,” he teased, his voice carrying over the rush of wind.

you turned your head just enough to shoot him a playful glare. “only if you can keep up,” you shot back.

his laughter — low, deep, and genuine — rumbled behind you, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as though the weight of his title had been stripped away. he wasn’t the king of curses, and you weren’t just a daimyo. you were two souls caught in a moment of reckless freedom, the lines between duty and affection blurring with each race and shared glance.

was this flirting? you weren’t sure. but whatever it was, it made your chest feel lighter and your heart race faster, though whether from the thrill of the ride or his gaze, you couldn’t say.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

romance was a phrase people threw around with ease — quiet evenings, shared whispers, fleeting touches. but for you and the king of curses, it was something far more visceral. your unspoken language was in the clash of blades, in the crackling tension of your sparring matches, where sweat dripped, breaths mingled, and the world narrowed down to just the two of you.

your blade met his with a ringing clash, the sheer force of his strikes reverberating through your bones. sukuna’s strength was monstrous, his skill unmatched, and you knew he was holding back. his smirk as he parried your blows told you as much.

“is that all, little daimyo?” he teased, his voice dripping with mockery as he sidestepped your next strike with infuriating ease.

you didn’t answer, too focused on the swing of your blade, the shifting of your weight as you lunged again. the cuts on your arms and legs stung, a testament to his superiority, but you refused to yield.

“persistent, aren’t you?” he said, amusement dancing in his crimson eyes as he deflected yet another attack.

you glared at him, panting. “someone has to keep you in check, my lord.”

his laughter boomed, loud and unapologetic, as he disarmed you with a flick of his wrist. your sword clattered to the ground, and before you could react, he swept your legs out from under you. you hit the dirt with a dull thud, the wind knocked from your lungs.

he loomed over you, his broad frame casting a shadow as he planted his blade into the ground beside you. leaning forward, he rested an arm casually on his knee, his expression caught somewhere between triumph and amusement.

“checkmate,” he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk.

you groaned, your body aching from the strain of the fight, and stared up at him. “you’re impossible.”

and then, it happened. neither of you knew what sparked it — perhaps it was the absurdity of it all, the sight of you battered and bruised yet unyielding, or the way he, the king of curses, had momentarily shed his ruthless demeanor.

you laughed.

it started as a small chuckle, then grew into something deeper, uncontrollable. the sound bubbled from your chest, raw and unrestrained.

sukuna stared at you for a moment, his smirk faltering. then, to your astonishment, his own laughter joined yours. it was deep and resonant, free of mockery or menace. just laughter, pure and unrestrained, as though the weight of his title and your station had been lifted, leaving only two souls in the moment.

“you’re insane,” you said between breaths, still laughing as you wiped the blood from your lip.

“says the one who challenges me to fights they can’t win,” he shot back, his grin broadening.

and for that fleeting moment, it didn’t matter that you were lying on the ground, bruised and exhausted, or that he was the most feared being to walk the earth. there was no need for declarations, no flowery words to bind the two of you together. it just was.

the unspoken bond, forged not in tender touches or whispered confessions but in steel and resolve, felt stronger than anything else. and as your laughter faded into a shared silence, you felt it — that indescribable understanding that, in this chaotic, violent world, you had found something rare. something that just was.

dust settled on the sparring ground, the aftermath of your brutal yet exhilarating match with the king of curses. sukuna loomed over you, the faintest sheen of sweat on his brow, though he was far from winded. meanwhile, you lay sprawled in the dirt, catching your breath.

"get up," he said, his tone a little softer than usual, offering a hand down to you.

you blinked up at him, hesitant. “i can manage, my lord.”

“don’t argue,” he grumbled, his hand unwavering.

reluctantly, you reached up. his hand engulfed yours, rough with calluses and strong enough to crush bones, yet his grip was surprisingly gentle as he pulled you upright. for a fleeting moment, his fingers lingered on yours, tracing the small scars and nicks etched into your palms.

you didn’t think much of it at first, brushing dirt off your armor. but then —

“rear my children.”

you froze. your head snapped up to meet his crimson eyes, which for once seemed to betray a flicker of uncertainty. “...excuse me?”

he cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable — a rare sight for someone who usually exuded unwavering confidence. “i mean — you’re strong,” he blurted out, his words rushed and awkward. “your resolve, your... grit. admirable qualities. for a mother. of warriors. my warriors.”

your face heated instantly, the flush creeping up to your ears. “m-my lord, that’s… a rather sudden proposal!”

“it’s not a proposal!” he shot back, his voice raising an octave, uncharacteristically defensive. “just… an observation. a logical one. who wouldn’t want strong heirs?”

you stammered, trying and failing to form coherent words. “i — well — that’s —”

“it’s practical,” he continued, as if convincing himself more than you. “you’re disciplined. resilient. not to mention... stubborn as hell.”

“and you think stubbornness is a good trait in a mother?” you finally managed to ask, your voice squeaking slightly.

he faltered, his ears reddening ever so slightly. “well, it’s not... bad.”

the two of you stood there, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade. sukuna, the fearsome king of curses, was fidgeting. his hand still lingered on yours, and it felt like the entire world had gone quiet save for the sound of your racing heart.

“what do you say?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

you blinked rapidly, trying to process what was happening. “i — uh — ”

and then it hit you, the absurdity of it all. the great and terrible sukuna was asking — no, suggesting — something so utterly domestic and human. you couldn’t help but let out a small, breathless laugh, burying your face in your free hand to hide the burning flush on your cheeks.

“is that a no?” he asked, his tone bristling with the faintest hint of impatience, though the uncertainty in his eyes betrayed him.

“i didn’t say that!” you squeaked, peeking through your fingers.

he raised a brow, his smirk creeping back into place, though it was softer than usual. “then what are you saying?”

you groaned, unable to meet his gaze as you mumbled through your hands, “i’m… not opposed.”

for a moment, the world seemed to pause. sukuna tilted his head, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were suppressing a smile.

“not opposed, huh?” he repeated, his voice low, almost teasing.

“don’t make me say it again!” you snapped, your embarrassment reaching its peak.

“hmm,” he mused, finally letting go of your hands, though the warmth of his touch lingered. “practical indeed.”

as you glared at him, still flustered beyond belief, he turned away, his back to you. he was clearly trying to act unaffected, but the faint upward curve of his lips gave him away.

and sukuna? he thought to himself with the faintest hint of pride, maybe smiling isn’t so bad after all.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

how you went from a daimyo to the wife of the king of curses, you couldn’t quite fathom. one day, you were overseeing harvests and managing disputes, and the next, you were draped in silks too fine for your roughened hands, adjusting to the weight of a title you never sought.

sukuna, however, seemed unbothered by the incongruity of it all. he had simply decided that you were to be his wife, and what sukuna decided became reality. your hesitant protests, your concerns about abandoning your duties to the estate — none of it phased him.

“then stay here,” he’d said with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if it were the simplest solution in the world. “i’ll come to you when i wish.”

uraume, ever the loyal servant, had been aghast. they didn’t voice it, of course, but their disapproval was palpable. yet beneath their furrowed brow and pursed lips, there was a flicker of something else — pride. pride that their lord, fearsome and untouchable, had chosen someone with your mettle.

you were still adjusting to your new role when sukuna visited the estate for the first time as your husband. he was unceremonious about it, arriving without warning, striding into your chambers as if it were his rightful place.

“what’s this?” he asked, eyeing the bright silk robe draped over your shoulders.

“your people insisted,” you replied, tugging self-consciously at the fabric.

he snorted, crossing his arms as his gaze swept over you. “you look like a peacock.”

you froze, your grip tightening on the sash. “a peacock?” you repeated, your tone dangerously low.

“hmm,” he mused, leaning lazily against the doorframe. “not a bad thing. regal, loud, a bit ridiculous — suits you.”

your glare could have set the silk ablaze. “is this your idea of flattery, my lord?”

he chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your cheeks burn. “only telling the truth.”

“then here’s some truth for you,” you shot back, your voice sharp as a blade. “perhaps you should spend more time governing your lands and less time critiquing my attire.”

for a moment, there was silence. then, to your astonishment, sukuna laughed — a genuine, unrestrained laugh that echoed through the room.

“bold as ever,” he said, stepping closer. his crimson eyes softened ever so slightly as he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “it’s what i like about you.”

your breath hitched at the unexpected intimacy, but before you could respond, he pulled away, his smirk firmly back in place.

“come,” he said, turning toward the door. “there’s work to be done.”

and just like that, your marriage was sealed — not with a grand ceremony or a formal declaration, but with sharp words, shared laughter, and a silent understanding that spoke volumes.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

uraume had been left in charge of state matters, their protests falling on deaf ears as sukuna waved them off with a smug grin. "you’re competent enough to handle it," he’d said, the dismissiveness in his tone making uraume's temples throb. they could only bow in grudging acceptance, watching their king stride off to the estate like a man with nothing but time on his hands.

his first night as your husband was spent testing your patience. “it’s tradition,” he declared with a grin that was more wolfish than charming. “we’re supposed to consummate the marriage.”

you had stared at him, unimpressed. “it’s tradition to do so willingly. i don’t see any willing party here.”

his grin faltered, replaced by a mock glare. “a king shouldn’t have to beg his wife.”

“then don’t.”

his brow twitched at your quick retort, and though he tried to argue further, your unyielding stare — a mix of warrior resolve and exhausted defiance — silenced him. eventually, he grumbled, “fine. no bedding. but you’ll sleep here, with me.”

you’d crossed your arms. “on opposite sides of the bed.”

“skin to skin,” he countered, clearly enjoying the bargaining.

“over my dead body.”

“bold of you to assume i wouldn’t oblige.”

the back-and-forth ended with a compromise that involved his bare chest pressed against your back, his arms draped over you like iron shackles. “this is hardly ‘opposite sides,’” you muttered as you felt his warm breath on the nape of your neck.

“you’re warm,” he murmured, his tone almost soft, and that was the end of it.

or so he thought. because the king of curses, who had never known caution, underestimated the awareness of a daimyo — a warrior trained to detect even the faintest signs of an enemy’s advance. when his hand began to creep lower towards your legs during the night, you intercepted it with a grip so firm that his eyes snapped open in shock.

“don’t push your luck, my lord,” you whispered without turning, your voice cutting through the dark like a blade.

to his credit, he chuckled, more impressed than annoyed. “fine,” he relented, withdrawing his hand. “you win this time.”

morning came, the soft light of dawn spilling into the room. sukuna, who rarely stayed still for long, remained entangled with you, his larger frame curled protectively around your smaller one. for the first time in centuries, his guard was down. and when your lips parted to murmur his name — soft and reverent, like a prayer — he froze.

“...sukuna.”

it was just a whisper, but it held a weight that he couldn’t explain. something in his chest tightened, a foreign warmth spreading through him as he stared at your peaceful face, your lashes fluttering against your cheek.

“damn you,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with awe.

because for all his conquests and power, for all the women who had once vied for his attention, none had ever made him feel like this. none had ever whispered his name like it was a blessing, like it was sacred.

and in that moment, as he held you closer, sukuna knew — he had never loved a woman the way he loved you.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

the days following your marriage passed with an ease that felt both strange and natural. your routines remained the same in essence — horse-riding through the vast lands, plucking the ripest fruits from the orchards, and patrolling the estate to ensure its prosperity — but now, there was a shared intimacy, a silent acknowledgment that you were no longer alone in these moments. sukuna accompanied you everywhere, his presence both imposing and comforting.

you’d ride side by side, your horses kicking up dust as laughter rang out in the open air. sukuna, who once considered these lands beneath his attention, now seemed to find joy in every mundane detail of life here.

“you’re slipping,” you teased him one afternoon, presenting a basket filled with fruits you had picked before he could even dismount his horse.

he huffed, feigning annoyance. “don’t get cocky, woman. i let you win.”

“of course you did,” you replied with a smirk, your eyes gleaming with playful defiance.

on other days, you hunted together. sukuna, ever the showman, would present his kills to you with exaggerated grandeur. “a token for my wife,” he’d declare, dropping a stag at your feet.

you’d roll your eyes, refusing to be outdone. “wait here,” you’d say before vanishing into the woods, returning hours later with a kill just as impressive, if not more so.

“not bad,” he’d admit, the amusement in his tone thinly veiling his pride in you.

“not bad?” you echoed, placing your hands on your hips. “i’ve bested the king of curses himself, and all you can say is not bad?”

“careful, wife,” he warned, though his grin betrayed no real malice. “keep this up, and i might actually start trying.”

nights were a different kind of ritual. after the day's activities, the two of you would collapse onto the bed, the exhaustion of the day settling into your bones. his arm would always find its way around you, pulling you close, as if ensuring you wouldn’t slip away in the night.

one evening, as you lay in his embrace, he traced the scars on your body with calloused fingers, his touch unusually gentle. “these,” he murmured, “are the marks of a warrior.”

you shivered at the sensation but didn’t pull away. “and yours?” you asked, brushing your lips over a jagged scar on his chest. “what do they mean?”

“they’re the marks of a man who’s lived too long,” he replied, his voice low.

you didn’t respond immediately, instead pressing your lips to each scar, as if trying to soothe the pain they carried. when you finally spoke, your voice was soft but firm. “then let me be the reason you stop living like that.”

his breath hitched, but he said nothing, instead pulling you closer.

sukuna laid beneath you, a sight so rare it could have brought the gods themselves to their knees. his broad chest rose and fell in a rhythm that betrayed his composure, his usually piercing gaze softened by an emotion he couldn’t name. vulnerability. no one had ever dared to see him like this, and yet, here you were — your lips trailing over every scar, each one kissed with a reverence that made his heart clench in ways foreign to him.

you felt his muscles tense under your touch, his hands resting on your hips like anchors, grounding himself as he surrendered to the moment. he wasn't used to this — not the softness, not the unguarded exposure. “woman,” he rasped, his voice gravelly, laced with something between a warning and a plea. “don’t you dare stop.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it,” you murmured against his skin, your lips brushing over a deep scar that cut across his side. your voice was steady, but your heart pounded. this was no king of curses before you, no tyrant capable of untold destruction. this was sukuna, your husband, your equal.

his grip on your hips tightened as your lips traveled lower, tracing the ridges of his abdomen. every kiss you placed felt like a silent vow, a promise to love him not despite his scars but because of them. they were proof of his survival, of everything he had endured, and you wanted to cherish each one.

“why?” he asked suddenly, his voice cracking slightly. his crimson eyes searched yours, vulnerable and uncertain. “why do you... look at me like this? like i’m...”

“like you’re human?” you finished for him, your lips curving into a small, gentle smile. “because you are. to me, you’re not a king or a curse. you’re mine, sukuna. and i’ll love every part of you, even the parts you hate.”

he exhaled sharply, a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “bold words,” he muttered, his gaze darting away as if embarrassed. “but i’m not complaining.”

“good,” you replied, leaning down to kiss another scar near his hip. “because i mean every word.”

his breath hitched as you continued your ministrations, your touch both worshipful and tantalizing. the coil of heat in his stomach grew, blending with the unfamiliar ache in his chest. it was maddening — how you could make him feel both powerful and utterly powerless at the same time.

“you’re a menace,” he grumbled, his gruff tone betraying the faintest hint of affection.

you laughed softly, your hands sliding up to cup his face. “and you’re mine to please tonight, husband. no arguments.”

his eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. “yours,” he murmured, the word heavy with meaning. and as you leaned down to kiss him, he let himself believe it. tonight, he was yours — in every sense of the word.

for all the confidence sukuna wielded on the battlefield — his presence commanding, his strikes calculated and devastating — soft intimacy found him at a loss. it was a battlefield of another kind, one he wasn’t sure how to navigate. his lips moved against yours with a clumsiness that was foreign to him, and though his brow furrowed in frustration, you didn’t pull away.

instead, you smiled softly against his lips, the curve of it so gentle it could’ve brought him to his knees if he hadn’t already been lying down. your hands squeezed his shoulders, your touch warm and grounding, a silent assurance that it was okay. okay to fumble, okay to feel, okay to let himself be vulnerable.

his hands roamed your back, hesitant but firm, the sharp edges of his claws barely grazing your skin as if he feared breaking you. “this... feels different,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, tinged with an uncertainty that felt out of place coming from a man like him.

you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers brushing against his jawline. “it’s not supposed to feel like a fight, sukuna,” you said softly, your voice carrying both patience and affection. “it’s okay to take your time. it’s just us.”

just us. the simplicity of those words hit him harder than any blade ever could. no title, no battlefield, no kingdom to rule — just the two of you, bare and unguarded in the quiet of the night.

he huffed softly, his lips quirking upward in a half-smile, half-grimace. “you’re annoyingly patient,” he said, though there was no bite to his words.

“someone has to be,” you replied, the teasing lilt in your voice making his chest ache in a way he didn’t know was possible.

the cicadas outside filled the silence, their rhythmic song blending with the occasional call of an owl. the night air was warm, but the heat between your two bodies was something else entirely. every brush of your skin against his, every whispered breath, felt amplified in the stillness.

when you leaned down again, your lips meeting his once more, he let himself relax into it. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. and though he still fumbled — his movements rough around the edges, his breaths uneven — you didn’t falter.

instead, you guided him with your touch, your lips, your presence. it wasn’t rushed, nor was it perfect, but it didn’t need to be. for sukuna, this wasn’t about dominance or conquest. it was about trust, about letting himself be seen in a way he had never allowed anyone else to see him before.

sukuna wasn’t sure what surprised him more — the way his breath hitched when you lined him against yourself or the way his heart felt like it was being split open in the process. this wasn’t like the countless nights he’d spent with others, pursuing pleasure with little regard for who shared his bed. no, this was different. you were different.

as you sank down onto him, your movements slow and deliberate, his hands gripped your hips like a lifeline, his claws digging in just enough to leave faint impressions on your skin. his eyes were glued to you, watching the way your face shifted with every inch, the trust in your gaze piercing through every layer of armor he’d ever worn.

“fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough and low, almost trembling. “you’re... gods, you’re perfect. too perfect for me.”

your hands rested on his chest for balance, your fingertips brushing against the hardened muscles there. his body tensed beneath you, but his gaze softened.

“look at you,” he rasped, his words a reverent whisper, like a prayer to a deity he didn’t know he worshiped. “taking me like you were made for this — made for me.”

your movements began to pick up pace, and sukuna’s head tilted back, exposing the column of his throat. a strangled groan escaped him, and his grip on your hips tightened.

“so fucking good,” he growled, his crimson eyes locking onto yours once more. “you’re everything. everything i didn’t even know i needed.”

his words spilled from his lips like a hymn, unfiltered and raw. “do you know what you’re doing to me? huh? riding me like this, making me feel like... like i'll fucking lose my mind.”

your lips parted to respond, but all that came out was a gasp as his hands guided you faster, his own hips rolling upward to meet yours. his praise didn’t stop, each word more desperate and sincere than the last.

“strong,” he murmured, his voice strained, “beautiful, powerful... fuck, you’re going to ruin me, aren’t you? my queen.”

that title sent a shiver down your spine, and sukuna smirked, though it quickly faltered into a low groan as you clenched around him.

“that’s it,” he encouraged, his tone almost begging now. “take what’s yours. claim it. claim me.”

the heat built between you, and sukuna felt the familiar coil of pleasure in his abdomen, but this time, it wasn’t just physical. it was something deeper, something terrifyingly profound.

when the two of you finally reached your peak, his voice broke into a string of curses and your name, uttered like it was the most sacred thing in the world. and then, in the blissful haze that followed, as you collapsed onto his chest, both of your breaths ragged and uneven, the words spilled from both of your lips in unison.

“i love you.”

sukuna stilled beneath you, his body frozen for a moment before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

“say it again,” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper, his vulnerability cracking through the rough edges.

you smiled against his skin, your voice soft but sure. “i love you.”

his chest rumbled with a sound that was part laugh, part groan. “i’ll never get tired of hearing that,” he admitted, his lips pressing against your temple. the king of curses held you like a treasure he never thought he’d deserve, vowing silently to never let you go.

the silence between you was profound, the kind that spoke louder than any words could. your fingers moved with purpose, trailing the contours of sukuna’s face as though committing every ridge, every line, to memory. with your eyes closed, you traced the edges of his sharp jaw, the slope of his nose, the scarred texture of his markings.

“even if i couldn’t see you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, “i’d know you. i’d remember you... just like this.”

sukuna’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling beneath you, his body still intertwined with yours in every way. your words struck something deep within him, a part of himself he had buried under centuries of bloodlust and power.

“you’re a fool,” he murmured, though his voice lacked its usual bite. instead, it trembled, betraying a rawness he rarely let show. “thinking you could know me like that.”

your fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their path, brushing against the corners of his mouth, tracing the faintest curve of a smile that never fully formed.

“i already do,” you said softly, opening your eyes to meet his.

the sight that greeted you stopped your breath. his crimson eyes, always so fierce, were glistening, and a single tear had slipped down his cheek. it caught the dim light of the room, a testament to the vulnerability he so carefully guarded.

“ryo,” you murmured, the nickname escaping your lips without thought, carrying all the tenderness you felt for him.

his brows furrowed, as though he wanted to snap at you for daring to call him that, but the moment passed, and his features softened instead. his large hand came up to cover yours, pressing it firmly against his cheek as though grounding himself in your touch.

“don’t,” he said gruffly, though the break in his voice betrayed him. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?” you asked, your tone gentle, though your eyes held a mix of curiosity and concern.

“like i’m human,” he admitted, the words tumbling out like a confession. “like i... like i don’t deserve it.”

your heart ached at his admission, and you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. the warmth of his skin against yours was grounding, and you let your eyes flutter shut once more.

“you’re more human than anyone will ever know,” you murmured. “more human than you let yourself believe.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your words settling over the both of you. sukuna’s grip on you tightened, and he shifted slightly, still buried inside you, as though seeking reassurance in the way your bodies connected.

“you make me weak,” he finally said, his tone low and rough, but there was no anger in it.

“no,” you corrected, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze again. “i make you strong, because you can finally feel.”

another tear slipped from his eye, and you caught it with your thumb, your touch light and reverent. and for the first time in centuries, the king of curses didn’t feel like a monster, but a man — flawed, vulnerable, and utterly, devastatingly human.

the realization hit sukuna like a blow, an overwhelming surge of emotions he couldn't entirely name, but he knew one thing with certainty — you were his. utterly and completely his. his breaths were heavy, his crimson eyes fixed on you, still straddling him, your bodies joined in a way that left no room for ambiguity. every scar on his body, every ounce of power he held, paled in comparison to the sheer force of this truth.

and yet, that vulnerability — the unfamiliar, maddening softness you evoked in him — made him pause, his grip on your hips slackening for just a moment. you tilted your head, brows furrowed as you asked gently, “ryo... what’s wrong? you look so... lost.”

your voice was soft, concerned, and it cut through the haze of his thoughts. but sukuna couldn’t hear the words, not really. the blood roared in his ears, not with the adrenaline of battle but with something far more primal, far more consuming.

he didn’t answer. instead, his hands gripped your waist with renewed fervor, flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion. you gasped, wide-eyed as he loomed over you, his gaze dark and intense.

“you’re mine,” he growled, his voice low and hoarse, more a declaration than a statement. “say it.”

your lips parted, the weight of his words sinking in as your chest rose and fell beneath him. “i... of course, i’m yours.”

it was all he needed to hear. his hips snapped forward, his movements rough yet oddly tender, like he was caught in a battle between possessing you completely and cherishing you wholly. you cried out, your hands flying to his shoulders, clutching him as if he were the only anchor in the storm he was unleashing within you.

“you’re mine,” he repeated, each thrust driving the point home, as if trying to fuse the words into your very being. “say it again. let me hear it.”

“i’m yours,” you whispered, then louder, more sure, “i’m yours, ryo. always.”

his face softened for the briefest moment, but the intensity in his movements never wavered. “you’ll bear my children, won’t you?” he demanded, his voice laced with a desperation he didn’t even try to hide. “tell me you’ll give me a family.”

your eyes locked onto his, your hands cupping his face despite the heat building between you. “yes, ryo. a family. yours. always yours.”

something in him snapped at your words, and his pace quickened, his movements growing more fervent, more insistent. his forehead pressed against yours, and his words became a litany of possession, devotion, and need.

“mine,” he murmured, his voice cracking with the weight of emotion. “all of you — mine. no one else will ever touch you. no one else will ever have you.”

“no one else,” you agreed breathlessly, your voice trembling as you tightened around him, your own body responding to his unrelenting claim.

and when he finally stilled, his body shuddering as he came inside you, the sheer force of it leaving him breathless, he whispered one final time, “mine.”

you pulled him down into an embrace, your hands stroking his back as he lay atop you, his breath warm against your skin.

“always yours, ryo,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his ear.

and in that moment, with your words and your touch grounding him, sukuna realized that there could never be another for him. you were his salvation, his obsession, his everything. and he would claim you, over and over again, for all eternity.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

love was a funny thing. it crept in quietly, weaving itself into the mundane and the extraordinary until it became inseparable from life itself. it wasn’t always grand declarations or sweeping gestures, though those had their place. sometimes, love was as simple as sukuna rising earlier than usual to make you breakfast, grumbling about how you should “stop being so bloody picky about the eggs,” while still serving them perfectly to your taste. or it was you spending hours grooming his prized horse, treating it with the same care and respect as if it were your own, much to sukuna’s begrudging admiration.

but this time, love took the form of a life yet to come. it began with the subtle signs — your monthly cycle vanishing, a tiredness that wasn’t quite normal, and a growing fullness in your being that was unmistakable. the realization hit you one morning, and though the weight of it could have been daunting, it only filled you with excitement. the thought of a child — a piece of you and sukuna — made your heart swell.

would it be a girl, blessed with your grace and wit, or a boy, inheriting his father’s untamed strength? perhaps both, their traits melding into something new and extraordinary. only time would tell, but the mere thought of it was enough to have you practically vibrating with anticipation.

that evening, sukuna arrived at the estate after a grueling day at court. his shoulders were tense, his usual commanding presence slightly dulled by exhaustion. you spotted him from the balcony, and by the time he stepped into the hall, you were already bounding toward him, your excitement practically bubbling over.

“what’s got you all worked up?” he teased, though the corners of his lips twitched in amusement at your giddiness.

“you’ll see,” you replied cryptically, taking his hand and pulling him toward your quarters.

he allowed himself to be led, curiosity piqued despite his fatigue. once inside, you turned to face him, your hands trembling slightly as they rested on his chest. his crimson eyes searched yours, his brows furrowed in confusion at your sudden quiet.

“ryo,” you began, your voice soft but steady, “i have something to tell you.”

his expression shifted, a flicker of worry crossing his features. “what is it? out with it already.”

you took a deep breath, your lips curving into a smile as you placed a hand over your abdomen. “i’m pregnant.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, the weight of them sinking in. sukuna’s eyes widened slightly, the faintest trace of disbelief flickering across his face before it was replaced with something softer — something rare.

“you’re... carrying my child?” he asked, his voice low and almost reverent.

you nodded, your smile widening. “yes. our child.”

for a moment, he was silent, his crimson gaze fixed on you as if trying to memorize every detail of your face in this moment. and then, to your surprise, a rare smile graced his lips.

“you,” he murmured, pulling you close, one large hand cradling the back of your head while the other rested protectively over your stomach. “you’ve given me something no victory ever could.”

you laughed softly, burying your face in his chest as his arms wrapped around you. “i thought you’d be more... theatrical about it,” you teased, your voice muffled against him.

he chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “don’t push your luck, woman. i’m still the king of curses.”

“the king of curses,” you echoed, looking up at him with a smirk, “and soon to be the father of a child who’ll probably have your temper.”

he scoffed but couldn’t hide the warmth in his gaze as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “then we’ll raise them to be stronger than either of us. someone the world will fear — and love.”

in that moment, with his hand resting over your womb and a future unfolding before you, neither of you could imagine life any other way. this was love, in its purest and most profound form, and sukuna, for all his power and pride, had never felt richer than he did now.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

motherhood wasn’t something you had ever envisioned for yourself. you had spent your life leading soliders, strategizing in courts, and ruling your estate with the iron will of a daimyo. being a wife had been an adjustment in itself, but now? now you were a mother too. or at least, soon to be.

your days of riding through the fields and sparring with the guards had been replaced by cautious walks and hushed admonishments from the trusted servants sukuna had personally assigned to you. they weren’t just women — they were warriors, chosen to protect you and ensure you didn’t overextend yourself. but they could do little against your stubbornness, often having to physically steer you back inside when you ventured too far or pushed yourself too hard.

you hated the idea of being confined, of being seen as fragile, but the truth was unavoidable. carrying the child of the king of curses was not just an honor; it was a burden that demanded more from you than any battle ever had.

even if you wouldn’t admit it, you felt it — the constant exhaustion, the strange pull in your body as it adapted to accommodate this new life. was this child mortal, like you? or would they inherit their father’s immense power, the blood of a sorcerer coursing through their veins?

you often pondered these questions during the quiet hours of the night, your hands resting protectively over your belly. whatever the answer, one thing was certain: you would love this child fiercely. and sukuna? he would love them too, even if he didn’t yet know how to express it. and if he faltered, you’d teach him, just as you’d taught him what it meant to love you.

sukuna, for his part, had insisted time and again that you should come to his main estate. “it’s closer to the court,” he argued one evening, his voice edged with frustration. “i can oversee your care personally.”

you shook your head, remaining firm. “ryo, this is unfamiliar territory for me. i need to be somewhere familiar while i navigate it.”

his crimson eyes narrowed, but there was a softness to his expression that belied his irritation. “stubborn woman,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to his words.

“you love me for it,” you countered, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

he grumbled something under his breath but didn’t press the matter further. instead, he reached out, his hand coming to rest over yours on your belly. his touch was uncharacteristically gentle, almost hesitant.

“just promise me,” he said quietly, “that you’ll call for me if you need anything. anything at all.”

you nodded, leaning into his touch. “i promise.”

and so, you stayed. familiarity surrounded you during this strange, transformative phase of your life. and while sukuna begrudgingly relented to your wishes, he visited often, ensuring he was never too far away. whether it was to bring you fruits from the orchards you loved or to simply sit by your side and watch as your child grew within you, he was there.

you had been a daimyo all your life, a wife for only a brief period, and now a mother. the transition wasn’t seamless, but it was yours. and as unfamiliar as it all was, with sukuna by your side — even if he complained every step of the way — you knew you could face whatever lay ahead.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

the months passed slowly, each one bringing your child closer to the world and sukuna further away. the growing unrest among the sorcerer clans demanded his attention, their attempts to topple him becoming more brazen with each passing week. you knew he hated leaving you, especially during such a critical time in both your lives, but the king of curses was nothing if not steadfast in his duty.

“they think they can end me,” sukuna sneered one evening, pacing the room as you watched him from your seat. your belly, round with the promise of your child, rested beneath your hands. “let them come. i’ll end their miserable bloodlines myself.”

you rolled your eyes, though you didn’t miss the tension in his jaw or the way his hands flexed into fists. “and you’d drag our child into it too, wouldn’t you?”

his crimson gaze snapped to you, a dark grin curling at the corners of his mouth. “of course. our child will grow to be strong — strong enough to make those sorcerers regret ever crossing me.”

you sighed, shaking your head. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet, you chose me,” he quipped, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

but the truth of his absences was harder to bear than either of you let on. while he battled threats to his reign, you were left behind, surrounded by handmaids and servants who were loyal and attentive but could never fill the void his presence left. they tried reasoning with him, explaining that you were in no condition to make the arduous journey to his main estate, and while sukuna begrudgingly accepted their logic, it didn’t stop him from huffing and stomping out of the room like a frustrated child.

“damn stubborn woman,” he muttered under his breath one such evening, though not so quietly that you couldn’t hear him.

“takes one to know one,” you shot back, leaning against the doorframe with a frown.

he glared at you, though the heat in his eyes softened as he took in your figure. his shoulders sagged slightly, the fight draining out of him as he crossed the room to stand before you.

“you’re impossible,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“and yet, you keep coming back,” you replied, resting a hand against his chest.

he didn’t answer, but the way his arms wrapped around you said more than words ever could.

late at night, when the estate was silent and the weight of his absences pressed heavily on both of you, sukuna would return to your side. his footsteps were quiet as he entered your chambers, careful not to disturb you as you slept. but you always woke when he did, your instincts sharper than ever as your body prepared for motherhood.

he’d settle beside you, pulling you close as he buried his face against your shoulder. “i hate leaving you,” he murmured, his voice raw with exhaustion and guilt.

“i know,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair.

“i’ll end this soon,” he promised, his grip on you tightening. “for you. for us.”

and though you knew it was a promise he couldn’t fully guarantee, the sincerity in his voice was enough. you turned to face him, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“just come back to me,” you said softly. “that’s all i ask.”

and he did, every time. no matter how far his battles took him or how heavy the weight of his crown became, sukuna always found his way back to you. because in the quiet of the night, with you in his arms and the promise of your child growing between you, he was reminded of the one thing that mattered more than power or victory — his family.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“uraume...her highness… attacked...”

in that instant, sukuna's blood ran ice-cold. no further explanation was needed. his chair scraped harshly against the floor as he rose to his full height, the air thick with his suffocating fury. without a word, he stormed out, crimson eyes alight with a rage that made his retainers scatter like frightened mice. his strides were long, purposeful, the bile in his throat a constant reminder of what could await him.

when he arrived at your estate, the scene before him made the world tilt on its axis.

it was a battlefield. bodies littered the grounds — servants, guards, handmaids — all sprawled lifeless, their blood staining the earth. the once-pristine estate was in ruins, its walls splintered, its lush gardens reduced to barren desolation. the trees that bore fruit so abundantly now stood stripped, their branches bare and broken. the air reeked of death and decay, a stench that clawed its way into sukuna’s nose as his eyes darted, searching.

and then he saw you.

his daimyo, his wife, huddled in the center of the carnage, a blood-soaked uraume shielding you with the last vestiges of their strength. their once-proud posture was hunched, their breaths shallow as they clutched their blade with trembling hands. and you — oh gods, you.

you were slumped against a crumbling wall, your once-bright eyes concealed beneath a bloodied cloth tied crudely over your face. your body trembled, your hands pressed protectively to your swollen stomach.

“they took her sight,” uraume rasped, their voice weak but still burning with loyalty. they staggered, barely able to remain upright as the sorcerer clans circled, jeering and taunting, their eyes glinting with malice.

sukuna’s vision went red.

“what have you done?!” he roared, his voice thunderous as it split the air.

“the king of curses finally graces us,” one of the sorcerers sneered, raising their weapon. “your wife was a liability —”

they didn’t finish the sentence. sukuna’s claws ripped through their body in one fluid motion, blood spraying as the lifeless corpse hit the ground.

“none of you are leaving here alive,” sukuna snarled, his voice a venomous promise.

in the span of moments, chaos erupted. sukuna moved with the precision and ferocity of a man possessed, tearing through the assailants with brutal efficiency. his cursed energy crackled like lightning, obliterating anything in its path.

“you dare touch what is mine?” he bellowed, his fists crushing bone, his claws slicing through flesh. “i will rip every last one of you apart.”

one by one, the sorcerers fell, their arrogance extinguished by his wrath. sukuna barely registered their screams, his focus razor-sharp as he ended the lives of those who dared harm you.

amidst the carnage, uraume collapsed, their body crumpling to the ground as their strength finally gave out.

“uraume!” you screamed, your voice raw with desperation as you reached out blindly.

the sound of your cry snapped sukuna out of his bloodlust. the last of the sorcerers fell at his feet, their lifeless body joining the rest. the battlefield went eerily silent, save for the sound of your labored breaths.

sukuna knelt before you, his knees pressed into the blood-soaked earth, hands trembling as they hovered over your body. he didn’t know where to touch, how to start — your swollen belly, your trembling fingers, your face, now marked with the absence of those eyes that once pierced through him. his mind raced, frantic with a thousand thoughts, but none of them could drown out the truth hammering in his chest: you were slipping away.

"don’t," his voice cracked, low and raw, a plea that wasn’t supposed to exist in the vocabulary of the king of curses. “don’t you dare leave me, woman.”

you smiled faintly, lips dry and cracked but still unmistakably yours. your hands — gods, your hands, still steady despite your broken body — reached up, fingers grazing his jaw.

“sukuna,” you murmured, his name falling from your lips like a benediction. “i knew you’d come.”

“of course i came!” he snarled, the sharpness of his tone masking the panic beneath. “what kind of fool do you take me for? you’re mine. mine!”

your fingers moved with purpose, tracing the sharp edges of his face, his cheekbones, his chin, the ridges of his scars. your touch was deliberate, trembling but sure, mapping him like a cartographer immortalizing a sacred land.

“i told you,” you whispered, voice faint but steady. “even without my eyes... i’d find you.”

his chest constricted painfully. he grabbed your wrist, not harshly but firmly, as if grounding himself to you. “then find me now! stay with me, damn you!” his voice rose, a command that bordered on desperation.

your breath hitched, your hand stilling against his face. “'kuna… i’m so tired.”

“no.” his voice wavered for the first time. his hands moved to cup your face, forcing you to look at him — or at least, where his face should’ve been. “no, you don’t get to be tired. you don’t get to leave me.” his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away blood and dirt as though erasing the evidence of your suffering.

“look at me — listen to me!” his voice cracked again, his frustration bleeding through. “you are not allowed to die, you hear me? you are my wife, my daimyo, mother of my child. you don’t get to go!”

you smiled softly, that maddening, gentle smile of yours that he hated and loved in equal measure. “you’ll be fine without me,” you murmured, and his hands tightened against your face, claws digging slightly into your skin.

“don’t you dare say that,” he hissed, his voice trembling. “don’t you dare.”

your fingers resumed their exploration, your palm resting against his cheek now. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“shut up,” he spat, but there was no malice in it, only the raw edge of panic. “you can tell me yourself when you wake up tomorrow. we need to name the kid together — argue about it if we have to.”

a weak chuckle escaped you, and the sound shattered something in him. “so stubborn,” you murmured.

“you’re calling me stubborn?” he bit out, leaning closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “this from the woman who refused to come to the main estate even when —”

“shhhh,” you cut him off, your other hand weakly reaching up to rest against his chest. “kuna, let me… just let me…”

“don’t say goodbye,” he growled, his voice cracking as his claws dug into the ground beneath you, his cursed energy crackling wildly around him. “you don’t get to say goodbye.”

you didn’t listen. you never did.

“i love you,” you whispered, the words so soft they barely reached him, but he heard them all the same.

“don’t,” he choked, his voice barely above a whisper now.

“i love you,” you repeated, your hand falling limp against his chest.

and then you stilled.

“no,” sukuna breathed, his hands trembling as he shook you lightly. “no, no, no. you don’t get to — wake up!”

but you didn’t.

his hands curled into fists, claws tearing into the ground as his head fell forward, pressing against your cooling forehead.

“you promised me,” he rasped, his voice broken. “you said… you said you’d always find me.”

but the only sound that answered him was the faint rustle of the wind, carrying away the last remnants of your presence.

for the first time in his long, immortal life, ryomen sukuna felt what it truly meant to be alone. and for the first time, he wished he could be mortal — if only to follow you into the dark.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

the battlefield was soaked in blood, a crimson sea stretching endlessly as the scent of death hung heavy in the air. sukuna stood at the center of it all, his figure drenched in gore, the sharp lines of his face painted with a grim expression. bodies lay scattered around him, lifeless and crumpled, their clans eradicated down to the last soul. his cursed energy crackled violently, an unrelenting storm that tore through everything in its wake.

he raised his hand, ready to summon another wave of destruction when something caught his eye — a pair of horses galloping in the far distance. they moved in tandem, their forms blurred by the heat rising from the blood-soaked ground. his breath hitched, his fingers twitching as he froze mid-motion.

a memory surged through him like a blade to his chest. faint laughter, the sound of hooves thundering against soft earth, and the warmth of a voice. your voice.

he lowered his hand slowly, the cursed energy dissipating with a low hum. his gaze fixed on the horses as they disappeared over the horizon, his chest tightening in a way he didn’t think was possible anymore.

“who… was it?” his voice cracked, the words barely audible, as if he feared shattering the fragile memory. his claws flexed, curling into fists at his sides. his heart, if it could still be called that, ached in a way that was both foreign and unbearable.

he stumbled back, for once his body feeling the weight of his own destruction. he wiped his face instinctively, only to realize his hands were trembling. “why… why does this memory hurt?” his voice was a growl now, anger and anguish intertwining.

he fell to his knees, staring at the ground beneath him. he could see the faintest outline of you — your smile, the way your hair caught the sun, the sound of your laughter as you challenged him to another race. the memory was fleeting, just like you, and it burned him from the inside out.

“who were you to me?” his words echoed into the emptiness, his cursed energy swirling weakly around him like a storm losing its strength.

the silence that followed mocked him. it wasn’t the triumphant roar of victory he was used to — it was hollow, deafening, and suffocating.

“damn it.” his claws tore into the ground, blood and dirt mixing under his nails. “why did you leave me? who gave you the right?”

but deep down, he knew it wasn’t your choice. it never was.

millennia of violence, rage, and destruction had never slowed him. yet now, as his mind clung desperately to the shadow of a memory, he found himself rooted in place. unmoving.

the horses were gone, swallowed by the horizon, but they left behind a gaping hole in his chest that no amount of slaughter could ever fill.

“who am i even fighting for anymore?” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

as he sat there amidst the carnage, the king of curses — feared by all, unmatched in power — felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in ages: emptiness. true, unrelenting emptiness.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

sukuna's voice faltered as he finished recounting the story, his usual gruffness trembling under the weight of memories he thought he’d buried long ago. his hands, always so sure and unyielding, shook as they rested on the table. his crimson eyes, usually sharp and menacing, softened with unshed tears that clung stubbornly to the edge of his lashes.

and then there was you. sitting across from him, your hands clasped tightly together as if the very act of letting go would break the fragile connection between you. your own eyes glistened, the ache in your chest a weight you couldn’t name but could feel deeply in your soul.

you didn’t remember, not in the way he did. but your body and soul reacted, resonating with every word like an old song long forgotten. and as your tears spilled, so did his.

“ryo…” your voice was barely a whisper, unprompted but steady, and it shattered whatever composure sukuna had left.

his head fell forward, and for the first time in centuries, sukuna wept openly. no growls to mask his sobs, no threats to cloak his vulnerability. his shoulders shook, and his large hands gripped yours like they were the only thing tethering him to reality.

“you remember…” he choked out, his voice breaking, the tears streaming down his face unstoppable. “you — you remember ...”

you nodded, though you weren’t sure how much of it you truly did. it didn’t matter. your soul knew him. your heart knew him. and right now, that was enough.

your hands reached across the table to cup his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that fell freely now. “we found each other,” you murmured, your own voice thick with emotion. “and isn’t that all that matters?”

he pulled you into his arms then, the table between you forgotten. you both sank to the floor, holding onto each other like lifelines, crying for what was lost and for what was found.

“i searched for you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice raw and uneven. “for so long. i didn’t even know what i was looking for, but it was you. it was always you.”

“and you found me,” you whispered back, your arms tightening around him. “we found each other.”

and so you stayed there, tangled together, tears mingling as centuries of pain and longing poured out between you. in that moment, nothing else mattered — not the past, not the future, not the world around you.

you had each other again.

and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

the room felt electric, every shared breath, every soft sigh charging the atmosphere between you and sukuna. the way he looked at you, reverent and awestruck, as if he couldn’t believe you were real, made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t thought possible. his hands roamed your body with a mix of desperation and tenderness, calloused palms smoothing over your skin like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

his lips trailed lower, brushing kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your stomach, until he reached the apex of your thighs. he paused, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, and the sound he let out — a soft, almost broken chuckle — made your heart skip a beat.

“let me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “please, let me. i’ve waited so long... i need this, need you .” his crimson eyes glistened as they met yours, raw and unguarded.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words died in your throat when he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his lips lingering as if they were trying to tell a story his words couldn’t convey. his hands gripped your hips gently, holding you in place as he moved closer to your pussy.

“you don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered, the words muffled against your skin. “a thousand years, and nothing — nothing —has ever come close to this. to you. ” 

your breath hitched as his tongue flicked over your sensitive clit, a soft gasp escaping your lips. you tried to pull him up, to bring him to you, but he shook his head, his grip on you tightening just slightly.

“no,” he said, his voice trembling. “not yet. please, just... let me have this. let me show you how much i’ve missed you.”

he sounded so broken, so utterly vulnerable, that you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him. you sank back into the mattress, your hands threading through his hair as he continued.

his tongue worked you expertly, alternating between firm strokes and teasing flicks that had your body arching off the bed. he let out noises — soft, desperate sounds that bordered on whimpers — as if your pleasure was the only thing tethering him to reality.

“you taste like heaven,” he murmured against you, his lips pressing kisses to your swollen clit before moving to your thigh. “i could spend eternity here, worshipping you like this. you’re perfect... so perfect.”

“'kuna,” you breathed, your voice shaking as you tugged at his hair. “please, come here. i need you.”

he hesitated, his lips brushing over your skin one last time before he looked up at you. his face was flushed, his crimson eyes dark with emotion, and he shook his head softly.

“not yet,” he begged, his voice cracking. “just a little longer. please, let me show you... let me have this moment.”

you nodded, your chest tightening at the sight of him so undone, so vulnerable. “okay,” you whispered. “okay, ryo. m'yours.”

his eyes fluttered closed, and he pressed one last, lingering kiss to your clit before moving up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. the love, the longing, the sheer need in that kiss spoke volumes, and as you tangled yourself around him, you knew that this moment was everything you both had been waiting for.

a thousand years may have kept you apart, but now, in this moment, you were whole again.

sukuna's lips were everywhere — your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder. each kiss carried a desperation that made your heart ache. he trembled against you, his hands roaming your body reverently as if afraid you might vanish beneath his touch.

“i can’t —” his voice broke, his breath warm against your skin. “i can’t believe i’m here, with you again. you don’t... you don’t know what this does to me.” his crimson eyes looked at you, raw and unguarded, as if you were the only thing tethering him to the world.

you cupped his face, your thumb brushing over the sharp line of his cheekbone. “i’m here,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady. “i’m not going anywhere, ryo.”

he let out a shaky breath and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, his fingers tangling with yours as he guided them above your head. he moved slowly, deliberately, as he prepared you, his fingers stretching you with care that seemed almost at odds with the reputation he carried.

“so perfect,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear. “you feel like you were made for me, like no time has passed at all. do you feel it, too? how we just... fit?”

you nodded, a soft moan escaping your lips as your body arched into his touch. he groaned at the sound, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered, “you’re everything. my everything.”

when he finally aligned himself and pushed inside, his breath hitched, his entire body stilling as he buried himself to the hilt. he didn’t move. he couldn’t. he just held you impossibly close, his arms wrapping around you as if shielding you from the world.

his face pressed into the crook of your neck, and you felt his breath tremble against your skin. “you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion. “you’re mine. you’ve always been mine.”

you tightened your hold on him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “i’m yours,” you whispered, your voice shaking with the weight of the moment. “always.”

he began to move, slowly at first, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that felt both achingly familiar and entirely new. each thrust was deliberate, as if he wanted to etch the memory of this moment into his very soul.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “so soft, so warm. i don’t deserve you, but gods, i’ll never let you go.”

his pace quickened slightly, the tension in his body coiling as he continued to whisper sweet nothings against your skin. “you feel... gods, you feel so good. i’ve missed this. i’ve missed you . tell me you’ll stay. tell me you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” you repeated, your voice steady despite the tears that blurred your vision. “always yours, ryo.”

your words seemed to undo him, his movements becoming just a touch more desperate as he chased the feeling of completeness that only you could bring him. his lips found yours again, and the kiss was anything but rushed. it was tender, a thousand years of longing poured into one moment.

“i love you,” he whispered against your lips, his voice trembling. “don’t leave me again. please.”

you kissed him back, your hands cupping his face as you whispered, “never.” and in that moment, as he held you close and moved within you, the world faded away, leaving just the two of you and the love that had withstood the test of time.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

the room was bathed in a soft amber glow from the bedside lamp, the warmth of the heater wrapping around the two of you like an embrace. sukuna lay on his side, facing you, his crimson eyes fixed on your face as if committing every detail to memory. your fingers threaded through his soft pink hair, the motion soothing as your legs tangled under the heavy blankets.

he huffed, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. “humans and their strange contraptions,” he muttered, gesturing vaguely toward the heater in the corner of the room. “a box that makes fire but doesn’t burn anything? ridiculous.”

you chuckled, and his lips twitched into a small smile. “i can’t believe the great king of curses is humbled by a heater,” you teased, poking his chest. “next, you’ll be telling me you’re scared of microwaves.”

“what’s a microwave?” he asked, raising a brow.

you burst into laughter, clutching his shoulder as you leaned into him. the sound echoed in the quiet room, and he froze for a moment, drinking it in. “gods, i missed that,” he murmured, his voice soft as his hand came up to cup your cheek. “your laugh... i could hear it forever.”

you stopped giggling to look at him, your smile fading into something tender. “i’m here now,” you said quietly, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “and i’m not going anywhere, ryo.”

he pressed his forehead against yours, exhaling deeply as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly close. “you’d better not,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t think i could survive losing you again.”

the two of you lay like that for a while, the silence filled only by the hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the house settling. then, sukuna began to speak, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“did i ever tell you about the time we went horse riding, and you insisted on taking that wild stallion?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

you tilted your head, your fingers still combing through his hair. “no... but it sounds like something i’d do. what happened?”

“it threw you off within five minutes,” he said, his smile widening. “but you didn’t cry. no, you got up, brushed the dirt off your clothes, and glared at the horse like it had personally insulted you.”

you laughed softly. “sounds about right. did i get back on?”

he chuckled, his voice rumbling in his chest. “of course you did. you were too stubborn not to. you rode that damn horse until it obeyed you, and then you rode it every day for weeks just to prove a point.”

“his name was akagi,” you said suddenly, the name slipping out before you even realized it.

sukuna froze, his eyes widening as he looked at you. “you remember?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you frowned, your hand pausing in his hair as you tried to piece together the memory. “i... i think so. he was a red horse, wasn’t he? with a white blaze down his face?”

a slow smile spread across his face, and for a moment, you thought you saw tears glistening in his eyes. “yes,” he said, his voice trembling. “yes, that’s him. you remember, my love. you remember.”

you nodded, tears welling up in your own eyes as the memory became clearer. “and you hated that horse,” you said, laughing through your tears. “you said he had too much attitude for his own good.”

“he did!” sukuna exclaimed, his grin breaking through the emotion. “but you loved him, so i tolerated him. for you.”

the two of you laughed together, the sound filled with relief and joy as more memories began to surface, each one like a piece of a puzzle clicking into place. sukuna held you tightly, his face buried in your neck as he whispered, “thank you. gods, thank you for coming back to me.”

you kissed the top of his head, your fingers threading through his hair once more. “we’ve always found each other, ryo. even after a thousand years. i’m yours, always.”

he looked up at you, his crimson eyes shining with unshed tears. “and i’m yours. forever.”

as the night stretched into the early hours of the morning, the two of you stayed like that, recounting stories, laughing, crying, and holding each other. for the first time in a millennium, everything felt right. you were home, and so was he.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

sitting there, listening to sukuna recount the stories of your past life, painted a picture of someone you could barely recognize. a fierce, confident daimyo who commanded respect with every step, who ruled with fire in her veins and passion in her heart. the kind of person who spoke her truths, weaving her desires into words that resonated with everyone who heard them. but now? the years had dulled that fire, replaced it with something meek, something you didn’t recognize as you.

as he spoke about the woman you used to be, his pride was palpable, and it stirred something deep within you. he looked at you as though you were still that person, still that bold, unstoppable force. and as much as it warmed you, it also broke your heart. you had let yourself forget who you were, what you wanted, and most importantly, why you sang in the first place.

or rather, who you sang for.

he was right there, in front of you, the embodiment of every yearning, every note you ever wrote. your songs weren’t just about a nebulous longing — they were about him. and suddenly, the idea of continuing to sing songs crafted by someone else felt like the ultimate disrespect to both yourself and the man who loved you.

the next morning, after sharing breakfast with sukuna — who, despite being less than graceful in a modern kitchen, insisted on helping — you marched into your talent agency's office. the nerves had settled into your gut like a heavy stone, but you ignored them. you knew what you had to do.

the executives barely looked up when you entered, more concerned with their schedules and the demands of the music industry. but when you stood in the middle of the room, hands clenched at your sides, and declared, “i want to perform my own songs from now on,” they couldn’t ignore you.

their response was swift and cutting, full of reminders about contracts, marketability, and their so-called expertise. they warned you about repercussions, about how stepping out of line could end your career.

“then so be it,” you said, standing tall despite the tremor in your voice. “i’ve built enough of a name for myself that i don’t need this label to keep going. i’m not afraid of starting over.”

their protests followed you as you turned and walked out, but you didn’t look back. you felt his presence before you saw him — sukuna waiting just outside, leaning casually against the wall. his crimson eyes locked on yours, a flicker of pride shining in them.

“did you mean what you said in there?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he straightened up.

you nodded, slipping your hand into his. “every word.”

his grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “that’s my girl.”

together, you walked out of the building, the air around you feeling lighter than it had in years. the weight of others’ expectations, the chains of a system that had dictated your life — it all melted away with every step.

as you looked up at sukuna, his presence grounding you, you realized something: yearning wasn’t a weakness or a silly indulgence. it was a force that led you to beautiful things, to him, and to rediscovering yourself.

“what’s next?” he asked, his voice carrying an edge of excitement.

“i’ll write,” you said with certainty. “and i’ll sing. but this time, it’ll be my words, my heart, my truth.”

he grinned, that familiar, almost feral pride lighting up his face. “then let’s show the world what you’re made of.”

and for the first time in years, you felt like that fierce, confident daimyo again. the fire in your veins was back, and you had no intention of letting it go.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

three years had passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. your once-thriving singing career had quietly taken a backseat, but not without reason. life had shifted, blossomed in ways you and sukuna had long wished for, and the result was the sound of soft giggles and tiny footsteps filling your home. you were parents — parents to twin one-year-olds who were the perfect blend of you both, a miracle that neither of you could ever take for granted.

your days were now a whirlwind of business meetings and baby bottles. stepping away from the stage had allowed you to pivot into a new role: the owner of a successful label company. while you had initially mourned the end of your singing career, the new path felt right. nurturing young talent and giving others the platform you once had filled your heart with joy, just as much as rocking your twins to sleep did.

sukuna, of course, had his own rules when it came to parenting. he swore up and down that playing your music for the twins was the only surefire way to get them to calm down and sleep through the night. “it’s their mother’s voice,” he’d say, almost smugly, “of course it soothes them. they know quality when they hear it.”

you’d laugh, rolling your eyes at his tone but secretly loving how proud he sounded. and when the babies would finally drift off, their tiny hands clutching the edges of their blankets, sukuna would pull you close, kissing the top of your head like he always did.

one quiet evening, after the twins were finally tucked in, you sat behind sukuna on the couch, your fingers threading through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder. your movements stilled when you noticed it — a strand of silver weaving through his dark hair.

“you’re getting grey hairs,” you murmured, letting out a soft chuckle as your hand continued to trace his scalp.

“hm?” he glanced up at you, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly in amusement. “does that bother you?”

“no,” you said quickly, a smile tugging at your lips. “it makes me happy.”

he raised a brow at that, clearly intrigued. “happy?”

“yeah,” you replied, your voice softening as you leaned forward to kiss his temple. “it means we’re growing old together. no more waiting, no more longing. just... this.”

for a moment, he was silent, his hand reaching up to cover yours where it rested on his shoulder. “you know,” he began, his voice unusually gentle, “i didn’t think this would ever be possible. i thought... after everything, after losing you once... that maybe this kind of peace wasn’t meant for me.”

you turned his face toward you, your fingers brushing against his jaw. “you deserve this. we deserve this.”

his gaze softened, the sharp edges of his usual demeanor melting away. “you’re too good to me,” he muttered, almost gruffly, before pressing a kiss to your palm.

“that’s because i love you,” you said simply, and his eyes darted away for a moment, the faintest hint of color dusting his cheeks.

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward in a rare, unguarded smile. “i love you too, you know.”

you laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair again. “i know.”

and as the two of you sat there, basking in the quiet warmth of your home, the soft hum of the heater in the background and the sound of your twins breathing steadily from their cribs, you felt it in your soul: you had waited lifetimes for this. and now that you had it, you weren’t letting go.

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