Hi! I would love to request a Sukuna x Sorcerer Reader oneshot where the reader gets called in to help to fight against Sukuna. When the reader arrives to fight, Sukuna took a liking towards her and flirts with her while fighting. Also, this would be enemies to lovers, smut and romance, a spicy vibe to it, and I'm okay with you posting this oneshot publicly ^^ - ☀️💖👑
In the Heat of Battle
Sukuna x Sorceror&Afab!Reader
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, everything in the ask but also i did this in a historical au bc...i like them, sitting in a hot spring with sukuna, SEX, cunnilingus, degradation/praise, edging😇, dirty talk, cussing, ridin', bratty reader, cumeating, sukunas got his 4 arms, half smut half fluff, i get a bit philosophical in the middle sorry, mentions of murder, injuries, and blood, etc.
~ 10k i got a lil too excited mayhaps bc this is not oneshot length but whatever
thanks for requesting, i hope you like<3
_________________
Fighting a curse like Sukuna meant you were lucky to be alive for this long.
Of course, you never had much need for luck.
“Ooh, so close.” Sukuna laughs into an effortless dodge, so agile that you can feel the air gliding underneath your palm for an irritatingly brief moment.
His voice is deep and so closely threaded with power the entire town practically shudders with the sound.
“I’ll get you next time.” You spit, gritting your teeth and preparing yourself for the next series of attacks.
Sukuna opens his hands wide, “You can have me anytime you want.”
Ever since you got called into battle, your opponent took it upon himself to flirt with you more than he fought with you. Even as you beat him to a pulp, he would persist. It was nothing short of maddening.
You glare at him, cursed energy coursing through you as you ready yourself once more, “Shut up already!”
“Hm,” He licks the ivory tip on one of his canines with a rough stroke of his tongue, as if savoring the threat, “Happy to have a pretty girl like you shut me up too.”
“I’ll shut you up for good, and you won’t like how I do it. Trust me.”
“Come on, sweetheart. You’re good, but good enough to beat me? Be honest with yourself-”
Before he can finish, the cursed spirit’s neck is in your hands and you’re relishing the way his pupils shrink in alarm at your successful grab. Despite his shock, Sukuna manages to minimize any possible damage by dragging you with him as his body is forced backwards from the impact of your ambush. The instinctive maneuver is enough to pull you into the wall with him.
Rubble from the area you and Sukuna crash into cascades around your fallen figures. The fear of injury stings through your body, and you only register it when you instinctively push out your arms to get yourself back on your feet.
“Not so fast.” Sukuna’s arms entangle you again, and you belatedly realize he had landed beside you.
He also rises to his feet more quickly than you can, pinning you to the chalky remains of the wall and sneering at your frantic clawing along the tops of his knuckles.
You hazily hear the gravelly reverberation of Sukuna’s laughter, and return to the rest of your senses, “Get the fuck off me!”
“Watch your temper.”
He keeps you in his grip with his four arms, and you continue to struggle in their collective grasp. The veins of his arms are tense and pronounced from the rest of his olive skin.
“...And your modesty.” He pinches the hem of your collar between a few fingers, the tease emphasized by the slide of fabric across your skin.
The heat that follows the motion enrages you.
Sukuna looks down at you with continued bemusement, and you follow his line of sight to find your shirt ripped open.
There’s a slight wrinkle in his nose that indents into the small black slash across it, and it’s caused by the smug expression on Sukuna’s face. His grin seems to have a cunning bite to it, and the corners perfectly complement the shape of his jaw.
As much as you hate to admit it, he has a nice smile. Nice enough to make your heart skip a beat.
Too bad you had to get rid of it.
Wrestling him to the ground, the impact leaves you breathless and a loud ringing enters your ears subsequent to you rolling yourself onto your back. You must have slammed your head, because you can feel the back of your scalp becoming sore.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice your fellow sorcerers retreating and collecting the wounded. After your requested arrival, you had been exchanging violent maneuvers with Sukuna for what felt like hours.
In reality, you know that it probably hadn’t been any more than 10 minutes since you tackled the curse and began delivering blows with your curse abilities.
Everything is on fire.
You have to finish the job.
“Looks like you hurt yourself pretty good.” You hear through your blurring vision, “Can you keep going?”
What?
Part of you strains to hear, and the other half retains enough instinct to push away Sukuna’s broad shoulders as he approaches.
You’re still trying to land attacks as your consciousness fades and he catches each one, making you resist even more and inadvertently expend your remaining energy.
“Stop. You’re cute for trying but don't.” He snarls.
A nice, square blow to his cheek grants you some satisfaction as you finally lose consciousness.
_________________
When you wake up, dozens of local sorcerers and townspeople are flocked to your side and hurriedly checking your vitals from where you lay on the ground.
“How long was I out?”
“About a minute.” A villager answers, dusting the debris off of your clothes.
“It’s fine, I’m fine.” You brush them off, the pounding in your head matching the one in your chest.
Although dazed, you scan beyond the crowd for any trace of Sukuna.
“He’s gone, don’t worry.” Someone says.
Even so, you contine to look for him.
Though you’re not sure why.
_________________
In spite of your bewilderment, you continue to search for Sukuna throughout the days succeeding the fight.
However, he seems to be searching for you too.
As luck would have it, he finds you first.
_________________
You dunk your wounds in the warm water, trying to relax into the hot spring and let the steam clear your mind.
Thanks to a healing sorcerer named Shoko, most of your wounds were able to be skillfully closed up, but they seem to still ache as though they were fresh.
So, you had ventured into the woods to the secret hot spring you had found years ago. The countryside was littered with them, and this one was your favorite due to the privacy brought by the trees and the soothing temperature. You were convinced that it had some sort of healing properties due to the mineral content that clouded the water, but you didn’t expend too much thought on that theory.
No one else seems to know about it either, so you trust the serenity of your secret hiding place enough to rest your head on the rocks and drift off.
As sleep begins to kiss your eyelids, a nearby rustle has them snapping back. You freeze, not wanting any splashing to alert the possible intruder.
Breathing slowly, you scrutinize the area that appears to be the source of the noise. You feel your battle worn joints scream in protest, but your gut instinct tells you that you may have to prepare to defend yourself.
The shadows of the trees drag over a tall figure, and your eyes widen at the familiar outline.
“Oh shit.”
Your thoughts mirror the words delivered by that unmistakable voice ingrained in your recent memory.
It’s Sukuna.
He has a bruise trailing along his jawline, and you recognize the blooms of purple as your handiwork among the other scrapes and scars dotting his person. It seems most of them have healed less neatly than yours have. Sukuna takes a step forward, and you note that he has a limp in his gait. The robes he wears are clean however, ivory and slate gray in color, seemingly too pure for someone as malicious as him. He rotates his neck and shoulders, the movement of those broad muscles prompting the stretch and pull of his pecs. His eyes stay trained on yours, the color of autumn leaves burning into your wary hues. Even with his obvious injuries, his presence brings chills to your body. He still looks strong.
The sudden appearance has you ducking lower into the misty water with a not so subtle splash.
“Don’t look!”
You internally wince at your unplanned plea, expecting him to laugh or roll his eyes, but it only makes him pause.
The struggling rise and fall of your chest becomes ignored as you make out his face through the steam, which lacks emotion or mercy of any sort.
Then, he covers his eyes with a large hand draped over the bridge of his nose.
“Okay.” Sukuna says, the agreement is accommodating yet inflected with a nonchalance that forces you to blink hard.
Another silence falls over you both, and you place a hand on one of the stones bordering the pool. Tufts of grass poke between the coarse gray, and you can feel a few get caught under your knuckle white grip.
You can’t fight him like this, so you have half a mind to run.
The thought is interrupted when the curse speaks again, “Can I come in?”
The ask jolts you back into that perilous place between fight or flight, “No fucking way!”
“I’ll keep my eyes to myself, promise.”
No irony laces his speech, and true to his word, his eyes remain covered.
Before you can retort, he says again, “Besides, I don’t think either of us are in any condition to fight…you more so than me. Don’t you agree?”
His lips move beneath the curve of his hand, and you follow the shape of them with little interest. They’re split with a line of scabbed blood, and his hand has green bruising patched over the back of it.
He somehow looks worse than you do.
“I don’t think you’re in any condition to insult me either.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
The water continues to rush over your body, and you feel it easing the tension within. Nature eroding every facet of pain into smooth relief.
It would be a first for you to share such consolation.
“Fine. But, don’t come near me. Or look.” You acquiesce, though just in case you assume a stance that resembles offense somewhat.
Honestly, you feel ridiculous.
Sukuna smiles widely, and then he continues walking until he senses the edge of the water by the heat on the bottoms of his feet. You briefly shield your own eyes when he disrobes, and he slips into the opposite side of the spring so gracefully you wonder if he’s secretly peeking through his fingers. His sheer mass displaces some of the liquid, and it hits your shoulders as he settles in.
Once he’s waist deep, and to your surprise, he turns away to rest his chin over crossed arms. His other two arms swim through the spring, feeling what little current there was running across his palms.
Feeling awkward, you do the same, but periodically look back to see if he wasn’t going to rip your heart out from behind.
His back is lined with deep grooves of strength and the dark marks tattooed onto his skin, water puddling over the dips and then spreading thin into glossy sheens as it evaporates.
Your throat wets with saliva at the magnificent view.
Every part of Sukuna seems perfectly sculpted to fight and conquer. A sadistic culmination of poetry in motion.
You examine your own figure wrought with power and evidence of your training. The same water decorating him was lapping at you too.
An even match, you think.
“You’re being awfully quiet, getting dirty thoughts about me already?”
The croon shifts your focus, and you whip around to flick water between his shoulder blades. The shot hits its target, though he hardly seems to register the miniscule shot.
What an annoying guy.
“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.”
“I’d like to see you try.” You roll your eyes and return your sights to the treeline when you sense movement behind you.
As soon as your peripheral picks up on Sukuna rushing towards you, you manage to lift your hands in time to catch Sukuna’s.
Large globs of water hang off of the thick elbows he hoists into the air, the liquid trickling down to his ribs and then rippling the surrounding water. His height is nothing short of monstrous as you glower at the smirking curse.
Moisture is also loosely braided into his petal hued hair, which glistens in the sunlight before fading into a dark, cropped shadow around his ears and above his neck. He looks…different up close and without the rigid aura of battle.
Your fingers interlock tightly together, no words easing the moment. Speaking seems impossible, and the prolonged clasp has you swallowing hard.
The stare Sukuna uses to capture your eyes is unreadable. Every secret you’ve ever held seems to be pulled nearer, threads sinking into the garnet depths like those fabled red strings of fate. However after scanning down your neck and then back up to your face, a satisfied glint emerges.
“That’s what I thought.” He tuts, as if disappointed, “You humans have no conviction. Pathetic little creatures.”
With that, he lets out a wolfish chuckle and releases you. The amusement fades in the air as he goes back to his previous seat, the broad shape of his back facing away from you once more.
The silence holds for a while, just the gurgle of water and occasional slosh from you or Sukuna cupping water over yourselves.
Only the damned curse behind you seems to like taking the lead in breaking each quiet stretch of time.
“So, you really gonna kill me?”
You sigh, running a hand over your cheek, “I hope so.”
“Don’t you want to get it over with? I’m right here.”
You chance another glance at him from over your shoulder, resting your temple on a fist.
Sukuna doesn’t move. You can’t see his face or imagine what kind of expression is laid across it.
All you see are the slashes you inflicted upon him, and the slightly pink scars beneath from past sorcerers who died in their attempts to rid the world of Sukuna’s terror once and for all.
As if he can feel where you’re gawking, he scratches the spot with a long black nail and lets out a discontent mumble.
Oddly enough, you find him both pitiful and loathsome. He won’t live for much longer, and surviving that final brawl certainly won’t leave you untouched. Once you take his life, you highly doubt that you’ll be able to keep yours for much longer after that.
There is an intimacy in knowing that you’ll die with someone. That you will be the last person each one will feel under each other’s hands and see as you draw the same, last breath.
Because of that, you find that you can’t look at him anymore.
“I don’t want it to be like this.” You finally admit, cutting the disdain from your voice and tapping the top of a stone.
The smile on his countenance is something you swear you can hear now, “We’ll keep this a secret then, yeah?”
“What secret?”
“This place, stupid.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Well, you’re acting like it. Now me? If I were you, I would’ve reached over and snapped my neck. Injuries be damned. I get it though, must be that so-called honor you humans adore indulging in. Can’t say it hasn’t infected me unfortunately, I didn’t really feel like finishing you off after you hit your head either. It would’ve been an empty victory. Pretty lame way to get out of it if I’m being honest.”
You tilt your head with a squint, searching for his eyes again and finding them as he drops his head back to send you a cheeky simper.
“Just saying.”
You tear away from him, sinking into the water before rising again to rearrange the soaked strands of your hair.
“I won’t kill you, yet.”
“Well then,” Sukuna preens, derision oozing into his cadence, “I’m looking forward to your next attempt.”
_________________
You and Sukuna begin to meet there consistently.
Just until you heal, you promise yourself.
It isn’t even as though every meeting is on purpose, he just so happens to be in the area when you are.
A wordless, regular cadence where you bathe and Sukuna does the same, except you stay back to back.
At first, you don’t break apart the silences by bringing up sorcerers or most other related circumstances, it just comes off much too taboo.
You also didn’t want to give him any advantages for future fights.
So, you talk about everything else.
What the clouds are shaped like, his philosophies on the world, your hometown.
Sukuna knew quite a lot, you suppose due to his years spent roaming the country.
It makes you more and more curious about how he came to be what he is. You try to not address it, but it gnaws at you. Dancing at the tip of your tongue.
He seems to feel the same way, being quite frank and open with his own questions and replies.
Despite your efforts, one day Sukuna offhandedly mentions that he was once a sorcerer.
Just like you.
_________________
“All you sorcerers are the same. You lie to yourselves and everyone around you.” He rolls a pebble between his fingers and occasionally tosses it in the air.
You can see it arc over the top of his head, plummet down and start again. Sukuna had begun this cycle as soon as you had said something he disagreed with, likely something banal and harmless like how helping the weak is what sorcerers do.
“You make so many baseless assumptions, do you ever get tired of jumping to conclusions so often?”
“Baseless?” The pebble falls and he swipes it into his hand, “Not at all. I used to be a sorcerer, so I can make all the fucking assumptions I would like.”
That piques your full interest.
You openly stare at him now, ignoring the pounding in your ears from such an arbitrary, shared confession.
“So why do you do it?”
“What?”
“Everything.”
He shrugs, and it’s all loose heaves of muscle in that small gesture.
“I want power.”
“For what?”
“Same reason anyone probably does. Isn’t that why you’re a sorcerer? For power to do with what you want?”
He crosses his arms behind his head, leaning to look at you as he rests back on the woven appendages.
The insinuation makes you press your lips together before speaking.
“Yes, but not like you. You kill innocent people, sorcerers and nonsorcerers alike, and you show complete disregard for them. It’s hateful.”
“I don’t hate them,” Sukuna meets your eyes, and you dutifully ignore the burning scarlet held within them, “They’re just in my way. Plus, innocence is subjective. Don’t act like sorcerers or humans you know haven’t thought the same. Done even worse.”
“Well, not on the mass scale you have.”
“Not that you know of.” He scoffs.
“Do you know? Since you used to be a sorcerer and seem to know every goddamn thing about it-”
“I know because I killed those sons of bitches years ago.” His hands fall back into the water, “Look, I’m no saint, we’ve established that. But is having strength so evil? Sorcerers and curses know what that answer is, we’re just waiting to see who will get out of the way first. After that, who knows what will happen. Whoever wins will decide what is considered right, and that’ll be it.”
Sukuna hums in thought, and then rolls his shoulders back with a grumble.
“Whether that includes heart or morals, who fucking cares. The definitions keep changing anyway.”
You scowl at his aloof attitude, “I like the kinder definitions.”
The rebuttal has Sukuna’s nose scrunching with revulsion, “No offense, but there’s hundreds completely different from it. Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
The argument comes out like your heart bared between your teeth.
Sukuna is firm as he looks down his nose at you, “You aren’t the world.”
As if you expected him to say otherwise.
Even so, the snide point hits its mark, “I never said I was. I’m no saint either, but I like to think the world can be much more than you described.”
“It’s not. This is all we got.” He opens his hands wide, and the sun weaves through his fingers.
Flashes of verdant trees and distant villages scattered below snow capped mountain tops dance across the edges of his arms.
Unspeakable beauty that you swore to protect.
“It’s all you’ve got.”
You raise your chin, absorbing the outlines of the villages before whipping your head back to the grimacing curse.
“You’re right, we’re going to constantly be keeping the balance between sorcerers, humans, and curses. It’s precarious and annoying as all hell, but these are people’s lives. You may think they’re weak, but to know the world is terrible and yet choose to live among all of the curse related incidents and regular bullshit anyway is power. And what are you doing? Sure, what are some sorcerers doing? Preying on that bravery while hiding behind some preconceived notion of what power really is and what it should give them. You may try to twist your logic into justifying that humans are in the way or useless to the overall battle between stronger forces outside of their control, but my god is that not fucking exhausting and pointless as well? That’s great for you if you don’t mind it, but I do. Kill, don’t kill. If it truly doesn’t matter- If it’s all the same, why do any of it? Why choose to intentionally perpetuate more suffering if it’s going to happen without your help? You’re just- It’s fucking despicable, you know that?”
Anger burns the back of your throat and flushes your forehead with thin perspiration.
“Maybe,” You finally say, “Yes, we are the same. I’ve done awful, irreversible things. Killed when it wasn’t necessary, but I still try. I want to keep trying to be better for the people who deserve it. Like this village. Can you understand that?”
The water stills with a silence so palpable you can feel it pressing on your chest. The spray of steam relieves little tension with its hushed puffs into the solemn, thickened air.
You don’t say anything more, and eventually Sukuna leaves the hot spring.
_________________
He doesn’t return for days.
You don’t mind it.
In fact, you hope it stays that way.
You entertain the thought with a smile, ruffling the ends of your hair to shake the water out.
The amusement follows you as you walk through the forest back home, but then you hear a noise in the trees.
“Sukuna?”
As soon as you say the name, you cover your mouth as if you’ve just accidentally uttered a secret meant only for the dead to hear. Your shoulders tense up by your ears, and you stop in the middle of the forest floor. You wait, doing your best to listen past the chirp of birds and the overbearing rhythm in your chest.
The wind is the only answer you get, however, so you manage to relax until you hear a twig snap.
You jerk your head around, and that’s when the air rushes out of your chest.
Of course, it’s him.
It’s always him.
You’re beginning to toy with the idea that this forest is haunted by an emptiness, save for you two.
“Hi.”
Sukuna waves in a casual manner more adjacent to two friends who had unexpectedly run into each other at the market rather than a curse and the sorcerer tasked with hunting him.
“What?” You glare, crossing your arms over your chest.
“It’s very nice to see you too.”
That cheeky comment makes you roll your eyes, “Move or speak, I don’t care which one you choose.”
“You’re so scary, you know that?” He leans in close, showing all of his teeth and mimicking curling his fingers into claws around his jaw.
Another glare.
“Fine, fine.” Sukuna throws his hands up in exasperation, and then scratches the top of his head.
“Yes?”
The curse rolls his shoulders back, shifting his weight between his feet.
He seems…nervous. But that can’t be right.
The uncertain revelation is startled out of your mind by his next few words, “I was thinking about what you said. You were right.”
The words rush out in jilted succession, like he forced them to escape before he held them in for the rest of his days.
You can only stare at him, and his eyes seem stuck on yours. Like he’s searching for something akin to approval.
“A child was lost in the woods here yesterday. I came across it and…it asked if I was a bear.” He laughs at the memory, and the sound of it without any sort of mirth or irony was unnervingly pleasant and normal.
“Such a feisty little thing, calling me a rude beast and demanding a piggyback ride home to their mother. Since, according to the kid, she would be sad that they got eaten by an ugly bear. It reminded me of what you said. Humans do everything they can to live despite unfathomable conditions. It’s a power many curses lack-”
“What did you do with the child?”
You know of one local boy that matched that description, Megumi Fushigurou, all sass and adorable chubby cheeks with a penchant for berry picking in the forest until sundown and his mother feared he was lost.
“I carried it back to the village, the damn thing complained the whole way but we made it safe and sound.” Sukuna rubs the back of his neck with disdain hissing out from his canines, “Did I mention it’s a pretty convincing power?”
You swallow in epiphany, he wasn’t lying.
You had seen the little boy with his mother earlier in the day. The village hadn’t had any cases of missing residents or violent crimes for a while either.
You don’t know how Sukuna manages to read your face, but he steps forward close enough to make your breath hitch.
“I’m apologizing, if you couldn’t tell.” He rests a hand on top of your head, a heavy warmth that matches the sudden softness of his tone.
“I’m…trying. Just like you.”
The touch is brief due to Sukuna retracting it as soon as you register the weight of his palm. Your vision startles to the curse above you, and it becomes instantly captivated.
Every inhale is noticeable, the taut expanse of his chest rising and falling more delicately than you would have guessed for a murderer like him.
Sukuna’s lashes almost brush the structured perch of his cheeks when he looks at you, and you turn on your heel as soon as the sight breaches your field of vision.
Something about how unexpectedly pretty Sukuna is always causes your stomach to churn.
“Denial goes a long way.” You shrug, and the robe you donned earlier slips off one of your shoulders, “But, you’re welcome.”
You can feel Sukuna following the fall of fabric with his eyes, “Yes, thank you.”
“Thank you too…for listening, even though I was kind of mean.”
“You’re welcome, I needed to hear it.”
Before you can help it, you peer at him from over your exposed shoulder and fail to tug the corners of your lips down to neutralize your expression.
“Does this mean you’ll stop being a murdering, pillaging asshole?”
“Maybe.” He grins and opens his arms wide, “Will you?”
You’re punching him in a heartbeat, and he guffaws so loud and openly that your resolve drops in your stomach.
It’s uncertain whether it was only for a moment then, or completely.
_________________
Sorcerers are crowded around a table, pounding its surface and causing the paper maps strewn across to crinkle and fly.
The meeting had started almost two hours ago, and both you and the elder sitting at the head of the conference looked exhausted by the possibility of being there for another second.
“He’s been too quiet.” One says, staring at the inked out rivers and mountains surrounding the town.
“Thank her for that.” Another juts his thumb at you, and you lean forward to feign biting it off before he flinches his hand back into his lap.
“We haven’t gotten any attacks since you fought him.” He mumbles, and you sit up at that fact.
“Really?”
“Yeah, we have nothing to go on. Because you didn’t finish the job, he probably fucking left.”
You blankly stare at him, and he shies away in embarrassment after the elder speaks up.
“That’s not true. The surrounding villages haven’t had any incidents. He must still be here. Laying low.”
You process the statements and theories, your mind spinning.
Right. Laying low.
Nodding along to the shouts and conversations, you pretend to agree while imagining Sukuna’s laugh.
His eyes shut in contentment while his head is thrown back and his hands clutching at his stomach or chest, the sun filtering through his hair and skirting over the immaculate planes of his face.
You can picture it so well you could practically reach out and touch him. Memorizing his features had been part of your mission while hunting for him, but lately your mind was beginning to conjure so many more different images of him than before.
Not just how he looks, but how he smells and feels. The way water and the forest laps at the tattoos on his skin.
A calming, yet incredibly distinct combination of senses.
One you hope sparks more spite the next time the curse crosses your mind.
The knowledge that Sukuna’s death is your duty simmers your temper as the sorcerers around you bicker.
You don’t grasp any desire within you to have anyone else involved.
“Calm yourselves,” You shake your head, “He’s laying low, but no one can hide forever. I’m already tracking him.”
_________________
Time only continues to pass in that perfect, little bubble you and Sukuna have created for yourselves.
The entire experience is bringing you a puzzling agony you grow less and less tolerant of.
Physically, you heal quicker than expected, and Sukuna only continues to become bolder and bolder following his own healing.
“You seem upset today.”
“Not.” The answer leaves you as forcefully as the clumps of grass you’ve been pulling out of the ground while sitting on the edge of the hot spring.
Your feet agitatedly swirl in the water, and you flick another handful of blades off to the side.
“So you are.” He wades over to you, and you place a protective hand on the hem of your robe resting across your thigh.
The act only makes him grin, so you return your focus to the decimated plants under your other palm. However, you soon yelp in surprise when Sukuna dives head first into the water and then suddenly resurfaces between your knees.
He wraps his fingers around the curve of your thigh, “Need some relief? You being more of a brat than usual is really getting on my nerves.”
“I’m not mad. Just thinking.” You huff, sounding immensely angry.
Sukuna only seems to register the fact that you’re staying under his touch, and he sinks in his nails a bit. Not enough to draw blood, just to test the bounce of your skin and how the water transfers from his touch.
The warm water glosses over the plush of your legs, and to your horror, Sukuna bends down to observe the shifting luster more closely, the swell of his bottom lip drawing heat as it hovers near your core.
It suddenly feels too hot.
The hunger in his eyes isn’t lost on you when he tilts his head up. You didn’t know rose petals could bloom away from the earth, but the crimson of Sukuna’s eyes begs you to reconsider. Once he seems to have his fill of your shaky gaze, he ducks his head back to your lap.
“Normally, it’s kind of cute when you’re upset.” His thumbs rub circles all the way beneath your clothing and up to your hips.
The motion only ignites more fire in you, “But I’m getting concerned. The forest won’t survive if you keep tearing it up like that.”
A chuckle is imprinted in the kiss he presses to the top of your thigh, and you let out a gasp so close to a whispery soft whimper that you pray to the gods Sukuna didn’t hear it.
“I can help you feel better.” Rumbles of dark desire coat the purr of his throat as his lips tread inward, “You sound like you want to. Am I wrong?”
He heard.
Then, in one swift motion, he hoists your calves over his shoulders, and water is streaming off of his body and down the lines of his chin as his eyes meet yours.
Every drop racing down his figure incites petty jealousy in you. You want to touch him. Not in any familiar, destructive way you have previously. Gently and sinfully, with languid licks to the crevices of muscle gathering water. You want to feel his body twitch and contract, and how he groans at the rugged texture of your tongue. Your throat hollows in response to that epiphany, and then it becomes saturated with ill controlled saliva.
At that, you swing your legs off of him, and he catches you in the crook of one of his arms as you attempt to scramble to your feet.
“Get away from me!”
The hissed out words indicate otherwise, as neither of you escape from your holds on each other.
Sukuna’s hand is bracing your forearm, and he has others wrapped around one of your ankles, on the small of your back.
Every point of contact absolutely burns.
“You hate me, don’t you?”
The word hate seems to have a poison specifically sharpened for your conscience.
But the answer doesn’t come to mind.
You should know the answer.
It should be easy, laughably so, rather than something bitter choking your throat.
Where did it go? Where did it leave you?
“You still do.”
It’s not an accusation from him this time, more of a wounded statement.
Murky silence is the only companion to his words, and you offer no other to join them.
Once Sukuna’s grip loosens, you manage to steady yourself and leave.
_________________
The forest clearing greets you with the chirps of crickets and birds the next time you manage to drag yourself back.
Even the bubbling of the hot spring is lively, the steam coating the air and any bare skin you have exposed.
You wait beside it in your everyday attire, needing some semblance of a barrier between you and Sukuna if he ever chose to make his appearance. The loose fitting fabric was thicker than your bathing robes, but less rigid and formal than your sorcerer uniform.
You had spent some time over the passing days to toil over your last conversation with the curse. Sukuna’s question concerning the hatred you held for him being the major thought occupying your mind.
The answer was actually quite obvious, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it any louder than the soft echo in your head yet.
Practicing it seems pathetic, but when you open your mouth to try Sukuna is striding towards you.
He has no humor in his face, all harsh corners and lines, but that entire demeanor vanishes upon seeing you stand and give him a hesitant wave in greeting.
“What’s this?” Sukuna approaches close enough to pinch the fine cloth gathered at your elbow, “You know I like what I see, you don’t have to cover up.”
The contact makes you flinch away, and a tortured look knits Sukuna’s eyebrows together.
He backs up, holding up his hands and covering up his expression with a half hearted smile.
You never thought your chest would ache at any hint of him being unhappy.
“Okay, okay. Tell you what. Kill me if you’d like.” He bargains, running a hand through his hair, “I know you hate me.”
That word again.
So much bite and emotion to it that it floods your chest with the fresh sting of tears.
“I can’t hate you!”
The outburst forces Sukuna back, and the impact seems to force his eyes wide open.
You swallow your next few words, rethink them, swallow again.
Finally, they crawl out of your chest, “At least, not anymore.”
Truthfully you had always been better with your fists than your words, and you had never wished for the opposite until now.
Sukuna seems to register your claim, but remains silent.
You think he’s going to say something, bracing yourself for it by sweeping your eyes to the tree tops and then to the pebbles speckling the ground.
Still, Sukuna is silent.
The air becomes colder, blades of grass and your shoulders trembling. A desperation deep seated within you blooms in one last attempt to escape this mortifying mess.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
A passive stretch of time is the only response you get.
Motherfucker.
As if your own shame and embarrassment wasn’t enough.
Lunging at him, your hands encase his neck with a strangled sound of utter frustration.
You have your full strength now.
You could kill him now.
Then, Sukuna places his hands over yours.
Instead of tensing, you relax completely.
He runs his thumbs over your knuckles, tempering the rage encased inside.
The sentiment in his eyes is far too soft for the murderous narrowing of your own.
It’s as infuriating as it is endearing.
You catch yourself wondering why you hold the power here, but it feels hopelessly lost when Sukuna holds you like this.
One of his hands travels across your arm, finding home in the cup of your cheek.
There it is again, his thumb stroking your skin like the shining facet of a jewel he can’t quite yet catch in the light. A breeze follows the placating touch, and you can’t tell which causes you to shiver.
He sighs, so defeated and low that you feel it mirrored in the tightness of your chest.
“If I say something…We’ll do something.”
The words ghost across his lips in the sweetest mumble you’ve ever heard.
You blink distractedly at the movement of his mouth, pink flesh moving over white teeth, “Do what?”
Saliva pools under your tongue, and you bite down on the swell of your bottom lip to suppress the gnawing appetite rising in your stomach.
His stare falters, his lashes fluttering down with peeks of ardent vermillion between, and then falls to the ground wordlessly.
You feel the comforting weight of it dissipate, and suddenly you’re weaker than before.
“Can you-” Your hands falter, lowering to grab at the collar of his clothing, the fabric clumping in your wobbly hands, “Just show me?”
Sukuna deftly reaches back, placing his hands along your hips and pulling you close.
You can sense fire pulsing under your skin as he continues in deliberate, measured fragments. His eyes never leave yours, all dilated pupils and honeyed warmth. He cups your lower back, the fabric beneath his palms shifting.
Gradually, he starts inching them up the sides of your waist. Squeezing and gripping portions of your curves with airy hums of thought.
You can’t breathe.
This silence is more purposeful than the last.
You both know what it implies, though Sukuna seems intent on making that knowledge undeniably transparent.
The kiss arrives as your eyes flutter shut, and Sukuna’s lips on yours taste like mutual devastation.
He tilts his head, the kiss deepening and unfurling butterflies in your stomach.
You lightly bite down on his bottom lip before swiping your tongue across the achingly soft surface, and he immediately grants you access with a low groan.
You don’t want to fight anymore. You want to surrender.
Curious hands roam along your body as the kiss deepens, stroking your cheek, the back of your neck and encircling your torso.
For someone so feared and strong, he possesses an astonishing gentleness that any prior replication of affection you’ve ever received now seems poor and revolting.
The tips of his fingertips skirt the hems of your clothing, and then they’re against bare skin. Soft tugs have your robes sliding down, and you gasp as the frigid temperature of air raises goosebumps over your skin. Chills kiss at your shoulder blades and up to the back of your neck.
Sukuna draws back, hooking his fingers into the fabric slung across his shoulder as he drags it over his head and reveals the familiar lines of muscle carved into his sides. The latter disappears into his pants, which reveals the tented mound between his legs. Despite the brief interruption, he presses you close to his chest the instant his top half is free from the restrictive material.
And he kisses you.
Kiss after kiss after kiss.
You occasionally flit your eyes open between locks of tongue and curse words stuck to the roof of your mouth, only to squeeze your eyes shut from enduring Sukuna firmly grabbing fistfuls of your hair.
His nails lightly graze your scalp, and he alternates between rough tugs and careful consolations down the back of your neck.
“I’ve never desired anyone or anything more than you.” He pants, and you wince at the desperate rasp of the declaration.
Your pussy is sapped with want, and your hips sway when he rests his hands past them.
“Fuck.” Sukuna sighs, fondling the soft mounds of your ass in his palms.
He spreads them apart, and a jolt of adrenaline shoots up your spine.
“You flinched.” He chuckles, biting your ear lobe.
The electricity in the point of his canine nicking your skin has you throwing your arms around his neck, and you hide in the nape of his neck with a whimper.
Sukuna acknowledges the sound by carefully holding up your wrists one by one and then rolling your sleeves up to your forearms to undress you. The abandoned robes petal around your ankles onto the forest floor, and Sukuna returns your arms to crossing behind his neck.
He tilts his head, his eyes simmering as they rake over your bare skin,” Well, look at you.”
Your elbows lock as your knees buckle, a sequence of motion vastly contrasting the vexed way you had gripped his neck only moments ago.
Sukuna catches you instinctively, hoisting your legs around his waist and clasping you to his front.
Your pussy drools at the flush of rigid heat pressed in the middle of your thighs, and you can hear Sukuna licking his lips as his hips support your weight, “Can you take it? I’m sure you can.”
The curve of his neck hides your face, but you know he can feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks when you stare down the scars of his back to see him tucking a thumb into his waistband.
The empty pocket between his skin and his pants only becomes more revealing, and you swallow as his entire frame soon becomes bare.
Sukuna keeps you settled close against his body, even when the cotton threads you sopped with your arousal get tugged away from you.
Then, you’re skin to skin.
You can sense his hardness before you even get a glimpse.
“F…fuck.”
The word is breathy and pained in your ear, and your own mouth falls open in a soundless gasp.
Every touch is scorching and placating at the same time, like every nerve in your body is perked and alert. So sensitive and ready that no point of contact goes unrecognized.
You want more. Need more. You can feel the ask escape your lips even as the thought fogs your mind.
The tops of your thighs are molded together by Sukuna’s heavy grip around them, and you use that to leverage your hips forward and back.
The bottom of your slit kisses the base of his cock as the length of it throbs against your stomach, and you slot your tongue into Sukuna’s mouth with reckless abandon.
“You-” Sukuna begins, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, “Are so cute like this. All desperate and needy.”
“Shut up.” You reply simply, sucking at the corner of his mouth with continued fervor.
The meaningless command has him chuckling, but then the back of your neck is wrapped in his palm.
“Sure, I’ll shut you up.”
He deepens the kiss the next time his cupid’s bow meets your own, and your mind is so fuzzy you hardly register that Sukuna has carried you into the hot spring.
The humid heat of it rises along your waist, and Sukuna trails a few affectionate kisses along your jawline and down behind your ear before swiveling your hips to have you face away from him.
Droplets of water cascade down the slope of your back, and a wanton cry escapes your throat when Sukuna stripes them up to your shoulder blades with the point of his tongue.
You buck your hips back at the touch, whining when you feel his length behind you.
This seems to encourage him to explore your back with consideration, eventually lifting your hips and hissing out a strained sound of gratification when the tip of his cock prods at your entrance.
Strings of water and precum adorn the crown of his swollen cockhead, and you slightly wriggle your hips to get more of it inside.
“Put it in.” You demand softly, biting your lip as you attempt to peek over your shoulder and down your back.
Sukuna automatically brings your hips lower, and your eyelashes flutter as he gradually guides you onto his girth.
“Mhm- Yeah, put it in. More.” Your tongue unfurls, and Sukuna swears from the excitement in your voice.
“Oh fuck yes.” He lets out a gasp so full of primal wonder that it comes out as more of a growl, his eyelids flitting over his rolled up eyes.
The whites of his gaze belatedly return to those scarlet irises you adore, his mouth remaining slacked with a strained moan when he draws his hips back.
“Feels good?” You manage to pant, digging your nails into the back of his wrists.
“I love it. Thank you, the sweetest girl for me.”
The sting of his cock stretching open your walls is so addictive that the languid slides into your slick heat are audible.
“Thank you-mm. Fuck, thank you.”
Sukuna crouches to lick at the shell of your ear with a lengthy curl of his tongue, “Best pussy I’ve ever fucking felt.”
You spend some time drinking in each other’s moans, how your bodies fit together and the symphony of movement driving your shared pleasure.
Little time is spared by you for further speaking, and Sukuna quickly learns how to read your every flinch and wail.
He finds the perfect pace to bounce you up and down his cock, the aching preference you have for his tongue twisting around yours as you ride out your orgasms along the thick spine of his girth.
“Is this good?” He asks, full well knowing the answer, “Is this spot good?”
“You’re doing it wrong.” You huff, sarcasm punctuating the lie.
An immediate pause.
“Am I?” Sukuna grinds lazily against your sticky walls, “This isn’t the right way?”
Your mouth falls open, and you spread your legs wider as your insides wind snugly around his cock.
He plunges inside more slowly, nudging at your cheek with his nose, “Tell me how wrong it is.”
Utterly stuffed, no other argument escapes you.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The curse smirks, but even the upturned corner of his mouth in your peripheral wobbles.
It’s incredibly adorable, but you have little time to dwell on it when Sukuna begins to slam into you faster.
You can sense him everywhere now, gripping your arms, his lips sucking soft spots onto your neck, and his hips grinding into yours until your mind is foggy and your screams turn coarse.
“God, your pussy just melts on my cock. Such a bratty cunt, but fuck - Think I like spoling you. Giving you what you need even when you can't ask for it.”
He draws out the curse, gunning into your cunt recklessly. You can feel the plush of your ass rippling against the constant pistoning of his hips.
“You feel that too? You feeling my dick? Good. Good.”
Every compliment hangs off of his tongue like he doesn’t want it to leave before he can get another quick and purposeful thrust in. Threads of thick saliva and precum knit your mutual bliss together, and you can feel his unruly cockhead rubbing creamy circles into the ceiling of your pussy.
“So wet.” Sukuna’s tongue clicks beside your ear while he continues fucking you up and down his lap in buzzing pulses.
He has an uncanny sense of when you’re close to the edge, as he’ll reel his hips back and only resume motion after your tightness minimally subsides.
The lack of release has you feeling entirely helpless, even though every time Sukuna is back to ramming your insides to near completion, you become so stupidly out of touch you forget the consequences and take it.
Every. Fucking. Time.
Not talking was a choice before, but now it’s an impossibility, only your cries punctuating the air with shamelessness.
Your pussy is runny and sloppy from the overflow of desperation. The loud squish of it is echoed by the excited hums of approval Sukuna allows to coat the back of your neck.
“Hey, I love you. You know that right?”
Sukuna bends your throat up higher, kissing and tonguing at the spots of it that he can access between his fingers.
“I love you. You’re mine.”
“You love me?” The question comes out garbled and pathetic, but it makes Sukuna kiss behind your earlobe with a tenderness you never thought could exist.
“I do. I love you. Just look at you.” He strains, one of his hands pressing down on your stomach.
“Oh God,” You observe the brutal penetration beneath you with awe, “What do I do?”
You don’t know why you’re asking, you just feel as though you have to ask him.
“What - do I -” The question is barely comprehensible with cries and ecstatic moans, but Sukuna answers you anyway.
“Take it. Take it all.”
The simple suggestion has your muscles clenching before you fully relax.
“That’s it. T-That’s it. Just like you’ve been doing-shit. Right there, yeah? I got it.” Sukuna pants, and when you crane your cheek back you catch a glimpse of the wild carnage in his glossy, dilated pupils.
It feeds your ego much more than it should.
“You’ve done it. You’re killing me.” He shudders, shoving you onto his cock with so much need that you can hardly tell one thrust from the next.
You gasp out as you clutch at the back of Sukuna’s neck, staring at him with widely blown out pupils and shaky breaths.
“Then, die for me.”
His lips are on yours before you can even finish the sentiment, as if he was eager to accept the total mercy of death as long as it was under your hand.
Sukuna’s hips continue gunning upwards into your flooded cunt, his tongue slotting into your mouth with whiny urgency and his arms tightening around your convulsing figure.
You feel like you’re bursting at the seams, cloudy and dumb with nothing but the heat of Sukuna’s body in your head.
You can feel yourself all over the fat, greedy rushes of his cock.
A warm and gushy mess saturated with praise and pleasure.
“Sukuna!”
The name leaves your mouth with an eruption of paradise springing from your sex, and Sukuna holds you as your body seizes with quivers.
He keeps you upright, doing those slow pumps that drove you crazy back when you were desperate to cum.
Now, they are soothing and filling. Sensual.
Sukuna lets you ride out your high until you’re loose and hoarse in his hold.
Feeling totally spent, you let him rearrange you against his frame and he gives the crown of your head a soft kiss once your cheek is leaning against his collarbone.
“Can I see?” He taps your lower back, voice rough and entreating.
You raise your head, and then provide him with a sleepy nod.
Sukuna pecks your forehead with a grin, and then effortlessly picks you up to rest your thighs over his shoulders.
“Oh wow.” He says, as if witnessing something so wondrous and rare that he can’t tear his gaze away from the sight.
The low exclamation makes you involuntarily squeeze and drip, creamy traces of Sukuna’s fluids oozing out with your own.
You can almost see the want spark in his eyes, deep maroon and curious.
He interlocks two of his hands behind your spine, using another hand to spread your lips apart and swallowing hard when your pussy seeps out more of your shared arousal.
The last of his hands reaches out to rub at your clit with the pad of a finger, and Sukuna licks his lips when you wind your hips down to meet his finger faster.
He looks up at you, a wordless ask, and you answer by tugging his head toward your core.
Sukuna reacts with a muffled grunt, lolling out his tongue and loudly lapping up your juices the second his tongue gets a taste of you.
You squirm in his hold, “Oh god, Sukuna!”
He pinches your slippery nub between his fingers, poking his tongue into the bottom of your leaking slit and then scooping his tongue upwards through the seams.
His taste buds sweep against the grip of your walls, and harsh breaths line your throat as he selfishly explores every inch of your pussy that he already laid to waste with his cock.
“Finish one more time for me.” He rapidly murmurs, his nails digging into your thighs.
“I d-don’t think I can!” You squeak, afraid that the knot in your stomach will snap much more intensely than the first time.
Sukuna seems to take that as a challenge.
He’s undeniable, scorching your flesh with determination and ardent gulps. The tip and flat of his tongue aggressively writhe inside and squelch along your wetness. It’s nearly unbelievable how turned on you are from seeing one of the most powerful curses in the world buried in your cunt.
Your center only becomes more and more taut, which forces Sukuna to act even more starved. The point of Sukuna’s nose bumps against your engorged nub, and he spends such a dedicated amount of time outlining your most sensitive spots with his tongue that your eyes roll into black.
He latches his mouth around your sore bud, flicking and swirling his tongue around it until you mewl his name over and over again.
Liquid bliss coats his tongue, and you can vaguely feel the tired smirk when he makes you cum in his mouth one last time.
Exhaustion sets in hard for you as well, and Sukuna catches you in his arms to return you to his lap.
Once you’re settled again, Sukuna grants you another passionate kiss on the lips. Tasting yourself on his tongue has you wanting more of him, but the heavy drag of your eyelids dissuades you from asking for more.
Although you know now that he would do anything for you.
“I was always looking for you.” You breathe, the authenticity of your admission lighting up Sukuna’s visage.
He is so beautiful like that, eyes glistening with obvious affection and a weary beam. The blossom shade of his hair is damp and raked back, and the olive of his skin is covered with streams of water from the hot spring. A light sheen of sweat also adorns the nape of his neck and biceps, and you can start to see the extensive sanguine marks you raked over his toned body. One traverses from the dark, buzzed undercut behind his ear to the top of the black design on his shoulder.
You weakly raise a hand to relieve the broken skin there, but Sukuna catches your hand in his.
He moves stray strands of hair from around your eyes, pressing his lips wherever he can under your eyes and across your cheeks.
“Thank you for always letting me find you.”
Sleep comes to you remarkably easy after that.
_________________
Morning sun skims the dips of your face once you wake up.
You squint your eyes, wondering why you no longer smell the earthiness of the forest.
“Good morning.”
The drowsy greeting catches your attention instantly, and you sit up to find yourself in your own bed.
“How-?”
You turn and nearly collide your nose with his chest.
“Easy.” He encircles your shoulders, comfortingly enveloping you in a warm embrace, “First, say good morning back.”
You relax, tentatively reaching up to return the hug, “Good morning.”
Somehow, you can sense the charmed smile spreading across his face, even as he rests his chin atop your head.
He deeply inhales, his large hands moving along your back as you breathe alongside him.
“Better?” Sukuna prompts after a brief passage of time.
“So much better.”
His smile widens, “Good.”
“How did we get here?” You yawn, peering over his shoulder at the scattered sunlight in your bedroom.
“I carried you.”
You reel back to gape at him with a dubious raise of your brow, “You know where I live?”
“I followed you home once.” He states matter-of-factly.
Clear offense sprawls across your facial features, “No, you didn’t. I would have sensed you.”
“Not when you were all pouty and angry with me. It was cute seeing you stomp into your house.”
“Uh huh.” You somewhat acquiesce.
Sukuna’s solid frame shakes with a hearty laugh before he addresses you with a more remorseful tone, “I just had to make sure you got home safely. You’re perfectly capable alone, but you didn’t seem to be in your right mind...I’m sorry, I swear I left as soon as you went in.”
He runs his fingers through your hair as you listen, but all you can think about is how difficult it is to have any lasting anger towards him.
Forgiveness punctuates your subsequent sigh, a drawn out and desolate sound, “I don’t know what to do now. With all the hatred I had for you.”
“For me it’s the same passion, only the direction has changed.” Sukuna softens your shoulder with a delicate kiss.
You reach up to cradle his jaw in the heel of your palm, lightly scratching his hair with your other hand, “What are we going to do?”
“What would you like for us to do?”
“I want to kill you.” You admit honestly, but with no malice.
Sukuna shrugs with a smitten beam, “You’re the only one who could.”
You smack his bicep, “Sukuna I’m serious! What are we going to do?”
The curse shrugs again, cracking his neck to one side, “We can stage our deaths and run away I suppose. Build a home in the mountains and live there until we’re old and gray. Or, we can live from place to place, see everything there is to see. You’re smarter than me, so whatever you decide. I just don’t want to fight anymore, now that I have you to take care of.”
He twirls a piece of your hair around his finger, watching the light shift in your eyes as you take in the candid suggestions.
“What do you think of that, sweetheart?”
Appreciation floods your chest, “I like those ideas, actually.”
The corners of his eyes crescent with amusement, and then he lets out a thoughtful hum as he draws random shapes into your cheek.
“There will be time for all of that later though. For now, what do you want to do?”
You pause to think over his question, and then resolve to snuggle back into his embrace.
“I want to stay right here. Just like this.”
Sukuna lightly strokes the back of your scalp and then kisses your temple with a content sigh, his lips moving reverently over the skin there.
“How did I get so lucky?”
_________________
End Notes:
hahahaha. i liked this. it just kept getting longer and longer so i just gave in😩😩 it's p much a multichapter fic lowkey LOL but thanks again for requesting! really enjoyed writing this one :)💖💞
ps. i'd like to talk about this one a bit more so if anyone wants to comment or send an ask about it i will reply in-depth!!💝 tyyy<3
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