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Sukuna can sense it like a country hick can sense a storm brewing from villages away. With the appearance of a forgotten angel and the soon to come appearance of a certain someone’s sister, the moment he had been anticipating for months is quickly approaching, unfolding before his very eyes without any effort from himself. It’s marvelous really—the sheer naivety and unknowing of these modern sorcerers. They’re so headstrong without any reason to be as such, and Sukuna will gladly reap the benefits in due time.
He’s always been patient.
Perhaps Sukuna ought to thank the brat for being as idiotic as he is. Humans have always been drawn to idiocy when it’s plastered with a smile and lofty, unattainable goals, yet despite the fact that Sukuna has succeeded in dimming that very smile, people are still drawn to him like flies to a corpse.
Fushiguro Megumi is no exception. No less foolish than everyone else, it was a given he’d never leave the brat’s side regardless of the many warnings he was given. He’s lucky the brat’s a pushover, not knowing the proper time to stand his ground when the opponent isn’t a curse, but he should have listened. It’s almost a little comical how easy this is all turning out to be.
Soon enough, Sukuna will be free from this cage, able to indulge as he pleases, no longer a victim to this secondhand ignorance and weakness. He’s spent far too much time inside this particular vessel, his brain rotting in boredom and irritation, and it’s about time they separate. He anticipates the disturbed shock that will etch into the brat’s scarred features, and then he anticipates his raw anger that’s always been so sweet.
Imagining it is enough to rile him up, eager for the moment to come.
Sukuna yearns to rough him up, carve more scars into his perfect body, scars that’ll last, visible to all who look at him. He aches to bruise his rough skin with hands of flesh, bruises that will remain, no longer to be confined to an innate domain.
Sukuna wants to lick the blood that oozes from his cuts, trailing up his neck, onto his chin, and then finally into his mouth, swallowing up the inevitable gasp. Or perhaps he’ll bite the scars into him instead, listening to every whimper and cry as he drinks straight from the source, his hunger more potent within a proper body.
It’d feel nice to have him in the sunlight, warmth encompassing them both, the weight of their relationship made all too real—too tangible. Perhaps there’d be voyeurs—Sukuna wouldn’t care. He has never cared about the thoughts of the insignificant. He lives solely to please himself and it doesn’t matter where. It’ll be all the more pleasant once Sukuna incarnates fully, his full form enough to dwarf the brat with more than enough hands for each of his holes.
Sukuna is aware that having the brat in the sunlight will prove to be a colossal headache. He’d be off put by the face, as well as the lack of seclusion, overcome with grief, anger, and maybe a tinge of sweet betrayal—Sukuna may have whispered some nontruths in his ear to get him to calm down before. He would thrash and thrash and fight back and scream and Sukuna is rarely ever in the mood for that. He needs his brat docile—at least as docile as that hot-headed, stubborn fool can be.
And Sukuna can acknowledge that there’s something particularly intimate about their trysts being confined to the innate domain, left to the knowledge of absolutely nobody. He knows his touch lingers on his body even when he’s not in here, unable to forget the phantom of Sukuna’s hands and mouth. He knows the brat treats it like a dirty little secret within his mind, ears burning whenever he remembers, the shame rampant.
It’s all too precious for the brat to revel in the fact that it’s just the two of them in here, their own personal world that’s fully closed off. There’s no one that can judge him for indulging, no one that can see how truly selfish he is, and no one he has to be altruistic for. It’s just Itadori Yuuji and the generous curse who entertains him occasionally, eager to taste his flesh and lick his tears.
Yuuji is a pest in every sense of the word, truly agitating until the very end. He’s made to be scarred, then put together delicately, just to be taken apart once again—but Sukuna can admit that he’ll miss playing with him in here, whether it be making him cry on his cock, or counting how many shallow cleaves it takes for him to bleed out.
It won’t be the same outside in the slightest. It won’t be the same ever again. There’s a chance it could be far better than what they have now, or maybe it’ll leave something to be desired. Sukuna won’t know until then—soon. For now, however, he ought to indulge in the idea that this domain is for them as one unit, one last time.
Yuuji won’t know it’s the last time, but Sukuna plans on kissing him like he does.
He’s in the mood to spread some generosity since Sukuna will soon dismantle Yuuji’s very life. It’d only be right.
His vessel is in his hotel room alone, restless as he stares at the ceiling. He’s wide awake despite it being midnight, and Sukuna can sense that he’s stressed about Fushiguro who’s been asleep for an entire day in the next room. His anxiety is palpable. Sukuna will fuck it out of him—or make it worse.
It’s become a guessing game to see which emotion Yuuji will choose after Sukuna is done with him.
He summons Yuuji to his domain, watching him land on his feet from atop his throne. He’s gotten a lot better at landing over the past few months, always prepared for Sukuna to yank him down whenever he wants to. Sukuna smiles when Yuuji whips around toward him with a familiar glare. He wants to eat the expression off his face.
“What the fuck do you want?” Yuuji asks. “Haven’t I seen enough of you lately?”
Sukuna delights in his foul attitude. It’ll be so quiet once they’re apart. He’s sure the other one doesn’t have this within him. Sukuna has never seen someone so stupid and tough to the point of having no fear for something that’s ruined his life. For that, Sukuna will never forget about Itadori Yuuji.
“You know what I want,” Sukuna says. “You can’t sleep, anyway. And you know I’m very skilled at knocking you out.”
And those round cheeks tinge a pretty red. “Of course I can’t sleep. I’m too busy thinking about the shit you’ve caused.”
“Is it really my fault?”
“Blaming you is easy.”
“So easy, and yet you still won’t even do it,” Sukuna teases, knowing his intention to provoke is successful when Yuuji rolls his eyes and clenches a fist. “Come sit on my lap. I want to touch you.”
“Say please, freak.”
“Please,” Sukuna offers without pushback.
It’s worth it when the light blush on Yuuji’s cheeks blooms throughout his entire face, his auburn eyes slightly widening. He huffs before making his ascension up the throne, having done it so often that he knows where to place his limbs so that he’s not punctured by the horns. It’s been enjoyable seeing Yuuji’s progression in adapting to his domain.
Yuuji takes his seat on Sukuna’s lap, draping both legs over the side of his thighs, one arm bracing himself around Sukuna’s shoulders. Sukuna smooths a hand up his neck before cradling his face, pleased when Yuuji leans into the touch. There’s a moment of silence that’s spent gazing into each other’s eyes as if to memorize the exact colors of their irises.
Yuuji has the prettiest shade of brown, made far more mesmerizing when they’re darkened with his anger, wet with his tears. How much will he scream and cry when Sukuna leaves his body behind?
“What are you thinking about, Sukuna?”
Yuuji won’t like the answer, so Sukuna doesn’t respond, opting to slide his thumb past his soft lips instead, biting his own lip when Yuuji immediately latches on, sucking enough for his cheeks to hollow. He’s always been so good with his mouth, always so wet and warm. It’s a nice sensation on his skin, and a nice sight for his eyes. He massages the pad of Yuuji’s velvety tongue and leans in closer, pressing kisses to his jaw.
Sukuna sharply inhales when teeth sink into his thumb, tearing through flesh and drawing blood. He can’t help his moan when Yuuji moans, sucking even harder, hungry for the taste of cursed blood—so animalistic, Sukuna is enthralled by it. He pulls his wounded thumb out of his mouth, letting the puncture stay, and kisses him.
Sukuna kisses him gently, holding onto Yuuji’s jaw with a possessive hand, because Yuuji is his, after all, no matter what. He’ll always be. Sukuna intends to keep the kiss slow and steady, wanting to savor everything about Yuuji’s sweet mouth—his taste, the slide of his tongue, the curves of his teeth.
Yuuji can’t do it. It’s as if he has the inability to do so. His mouth moves too eagerly, too hard, and with too many teeth. He whines in frustration at Sukuna’s refusal to match his violent pace, and Sukuna can’t blame him. It’s how they always kiss, a hungry, ferocious exchange of mouths as if they’re trying to devour the other. That’s not what Sukuna’s here for right now, though.
It takes a bit of time, but Sukuna manages to pull Yuuji into his pace, mouths finally moving in perfect tandem, tongues sliding in more of a caress than a fight. He eats up every single soft noise, seeking them out, memorizing. Sukuna wants it all. Yuuji’s hand fists Sukuna’s kimono as his breath is sucked out of him, Sukuna’s tongue staking claim on every single point in his mouth.
Sukuna runs his hands down from his jaw to his neck to his arm, feeling Yuuji’s goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch. His skin is already so feverish, a unique sort of warmth that Sukuna is drawn to. The boy gets hot so easily, radiant enough to affect Sukuna.
The build of arousal is steady, heat coursing through his veins and building within his gut, strengthening with each of Yuuji’s shudders and sighs. The wet sounds of their mouths are audible in the quiet space, their bodies pressed together, Yuuji squirming on top of him, pulling on his clothes to bring him impossibly closer.
Sukuna savors each and every bit of it. He savors every curve of Yuuji’s body under his hand, the feeling of the fabric of his clothes, the little hairs on his arm, the rough patches of dry skin, the smooth parts of his skin, the muscle that grows hard with each twitch. He savors all that makes this boy himself.
Yuuji pulls away first with a wet smack, his plush lips pink and wet as he pants through them, pupils blown wide and his face flushed bright red. This expression will be burned into Sukuna’s memory forever. Sukuna presses another quick kiss to his mouth. Yuuji reciprocates but not without saying, “You’re acting weird.”
Sukuna smiles, running his fingers through soft pink hair, reminiscent of his own in a way. “Do you hate it?”
Yuuji shakes his head. “It’s nice, kissing you like this.”
Sukuna wonders if Yuuji will miss him. Or maybe once the grief settles, he’ll be relieved to finally have his own body back. Or maybe Sukuna will be secondary to everything else going on within his head. Sukuna doubts that. He doesn’t doubt Yuuji’s hatred for him, but let Sukuna show him a little pleasure and he crumbles, desperate for it no matter what.
He’ll no longer have someone who knows his body well enough to have him forget the very thing he’s stressed about while in the midst of pleasure. And Sukuna is sure it runs deeper than sexual pleasure. Their intimacy is unique; there will never be anything like it again. Sukuna isn’t sure how he feels about that, but what’s more intimate than sharing a body?
But for all the trouble that Sukuna is about to go through, Yuuji better bask in that relief before he’s killed.
“Good,” Sukuna purrs on his lips, kissing him again before gently taking his bottom lip between his teeth. Sukuna maintains eye contact as he does it, the flesh giving a little under the sharpness of his teeth. Yuuji grunts when the skin breaks then groans when Sukuna takes his lip into his mouth, sucking hard. And when Sukuna closes the gap between their mouths entirely, he sighs, like it’s all he’s ever wanted.
Sukuna never alters his domain; it’s unnecessary. This setting has served both of them wonderfully, but Sukuna can admit that fucking atop the throne or in the blood water isn’t the most comfortable. And this is Yuuji. His Yuuji that’s so fucking sturdy, able to take pain with ease and even love it when he’s promised a kiss. His Yuuji that’s starting to wear his hair up—it’s a much better look—and be far more brutal with his human opponents. Sukuna likes the Yuuji that drags people through buildings and cracks their skulls open.
His Yuuji that still finds a way to flash that stupid fucking grin despite the turmoil that plagues him daily.
His Yuuji that’s about to be alone without him.
His Yuuji that could use a little comfort in his life.
Too caught up in the connection of their mouths, Yuuji doesn’t react to the throne morphing with them still on it, descending lower and lower until it resembles a bed too large for the both of them, donned in bloodred silks, the skulls having winded into bedposts. If anything, Yuuji cups Sukuna’s jaw and kisses him deeper as if trying to suck the breath out of his lungs.
And that’s alright. Sukuna doesn’t need it. Yuuji can have it all.
Sukuna presses Yuuji onto his back, getting in between his thick thighs that spread even further to accommodate him. He looks fucking gorgeous laid out against the crimson sheets, the flush in his cheeks damn near resembling it. His pupils are blown wide, devouring his pretty brown irises, and his slick lips are parted, begging for Sukuna to suck on them. He stares up at Sukuna with a look he can’t discern, and the moment Sukuna tries to, his chest starts to tighten.
“Why haven’t you done this sooner?” Yuuji asks. “I know you’re a masochistic freak but this is way more comfy.”
“I’m the masochistic freak?” Sukuna asks.
Yuuji laughs, and precious is the only word Sukuna can think of to decide the sound. How he can still make such a sound despite all that goes on around him is beyond Sukuna. Must be another attestment to his idiocy. He’ll never change. Sukuna isn’t sure if he wants him to.
Wanting to see every inch of him, Sukuna rips his shirt off, ignoring Yuuji’s yelp of surprise. He then cups Yuuji’s jaw, swipes over his bottom lip, and then drags his hand down his neck, the slope of his supple chest, his abs, the pink hairs at his navel and stops at his crotch. He’s already so hard, bulging obscenely against his sweatpants. Sukuna runs his fingertips across the length of him just to see him twitch.
Sukuna leans over him, their mouths a breath apart. Yuuji sneaks in a kiss. Sukuna whispers, “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?”
“No.”
Sukuna catches that brief, confused furrow in his eyebrows.
“Well, you are.” Sukuna kisses him. “And I’ll kiss that fact into your body.” And it ought to stay with you forever.
Sukuna watches a response that’s both snarky and perplexed conjure itself within Yuuji’s mind, but Yuuji’s mouth doesn’t follow through. He definitely thought better of it. Sukuna follows through with his words, pressing gentle lips to whatever of Yuuji’s skin he can reach. It’s cute to feel him squirm, arching into Sukuna’s touch like he’s starving, overcome with restless energy.
Yuuji’s abdomen contracts when Sukuna drags his tongue down his navel, not stopping even when he hits the waistband. Sukuna mouths the head of his cock through the fabric, already tasting the bitter precome that’s leaked, and the groan Yuuji makes sends heat right to Sukuna’s own cock. He raises his eyes to see the boy already watching him, propped up on his elbows, face incredibly red.
Sukuna raises to make quick work of his pants, getting him nice and bare, and then he’s right back in between those soft thighs, ignoring Yuuji’s tiny gasp when he latches on to the soft insides of his thighs. His erection radiates heat against Sukuna’s face, and Sukuna can tell with the impatient rocking of his hips that Yuuji wants nothing more than to be touched. That’s too bad.
Sukuna continues pressing kisses onto his thighs, gently nipping and sucking hard enough to leave a bright purple bruise. Fingers land in his hair, tangling in the strands as Yuuji whines, “Sukuna, please.”
Yuuji knows to use his words, so Sukuna disregards it. He wants to savor the feel of his thick thighs around his head, so warm and encompassing, and the taste of his sweat. He wants to remember the desperate motions and little noises. He wants to sink his teeth into his flesh like an apple.
And Sukuna does just that, biting hard enough to draw blood, making Yuuji’s entire body jolt. Yuuji hisses, his thick cock twitching, a tell-tale sign that Yuuji will always enjoy whatever Sukuna gives him. Sukuna licks the wound clean, obsessed with the sweet taste of his vessel’s blood. There’s no forgetting it.
Before Yuuji can protest, Sukuna sits up and flips Yuuji over then pulls him onto his knees. He shoves between his shoulder blades when Yuuji tries to hold himself up on his elbows, his face pressed against the bed. Sukuna caresses the backs of his thighs, enamored with the sight of the most intimate part of Yuuji’s body.
Every bit of him belongs to Sukuna—his plush ass, his puckering hole, his heavy balls, and his leaking cock hanging between his legs. He’s for Sukuna to devour, and Sukuna never hesitates to indulge in what pleases him. He grabs indulgent handfuls of his ass, kneading the flesh and spreading him open.
“You’re perfect, Yuuji,” Sukuna says, practically salivating.
He swears he can hear the way Yuuji’s breath catches in his throat. Sukuna smirks. He’s so easy to rile up with words, so easily affected. It’s sweet as much as it is pathetic. Then Yuuji lets out a heavy sigh—an annoyed sigh. A sound Sukuna is very familiar with.
“You don’t have to lie to me to fuck me.”
“So cynical. Where’s the kind Itadori Yuuji?”
“Are you joking?” Yuuji asks incredulously like his ass isn’t in the air. “This is you we’re talking about.”
“But I’m being so gentle.”
“Yeah, and we’ll see how long—”
Sukuna decides he’s done listening to him, cutting him off with his own gasp when he licks deep into his crack, dragging his tongue from his taint to his hole then right back down. Sukuna feels every bit of the shudder that wracks Yuuji’s body. He eats Yuuji out like he’ll never eat again, mouthing at his tight hole, slicking him up. It earns him the sweetest whines and gasps.
Every part of Yuuji tastes sweet, and he has firsthand knowledge that the flesh underneath his smooth skin tastes even better. Yuuji squirms on the bed, greedily pressing his ass further into Sukuna’s face. He keens when Sukuna presses his tongue past his rim, licking into deeply before thrusting it, fucking him open with the help of two fingers he slides in.
Yuuji’s so fucking tight it makes Sukuna’s cock twitch, leaking with each hard clench. He starts thrusting his fingers in earnest, petting Yuuji’s prostate with expert familiarity, still licking into him. It doesn’t take long before Yuuji’s moans are ringing throughout the place, erotic gasps of Sukuna’s name slipping past his lips. Still fingering him, Sukuna draws back from his hole to take one of his balls into his mouth, smirking when hears Yuuji cry out, “Shit.”
Sukuna adds a third finger, determined to get the boy nice and ready for him—a generosity he hadn’t always granted. Sukuna keeps his mouth occupied, sucking on Yuuji’s balls, feeling how they start to draw up. He briefly considers pulling away completely, bringing Yuuji to the brink just to drop him immediately, allowing him to only come on his cock.
But it’s the last time in their domain.
Sukuna curls his fingers in a way that always gets him, and it never fails to please him how well it fucking works each time. With a loud shout, Yuuji comes, his balls pulsing between Sukuna’s lips as he spills incessantly on the silk. Sukuna takes a last lap up his ass before grabbing him by the hips and flipping him over.
He grabs Yuuji’s thighs and spreads them wide, making himself comfortable between them. He runs his hands up Yuuji’s abs, squeezes his chest, and then continues his ascension to grab Yuuji’s jaw. He still has that blissed out look on his face, the flush having bled into his heaving chest. It’s beautiful, really.
“What about now? Do I get the kind Itadori Yuuji now?”
He expects Yuuji to glare, but instead, he chuckles and holds his arms out. Sukuna follows. The moment they’re chest to chest, their mouths connect in a heated kiss, the kind Yuuji likes, the kind that clashes teeth and draws blood and leaves their lips sore. Yuuji’s fingers tangle in Sukuna’s hair and grip hard as if he’s trying to yank the strands from the scalp, his teeth sinking into Sukuna’s bottom lip, ripping through skin.
He sucks the beading blood like he needs it to survive, not without moaning blissfully. Sukuna can feel that he’s still hard, their cocks pressing together in a heated slide as they grind against each other. Yuuji’s other hand digs into Sukuna’s shoulder blades, nails biting through skin.
Yuuji doesn’t know how to be gentle with Sukuna. It’s a fact that Sukuna cherishes.
When Sukuna gets a mouthful of Yuuji’s tongue, he tastes blood. When their mouths part, there’s a long moment of heavy breathing, the silence only broken by Yuuji. “I hate you.”
Sukuna grins. “I know.”
“Like really hate you,” Yuuji says, rolling his hips, arching into Sukuna’s body warmth. “Can’t stand you.”
“Can’t stand you either,” Sukuna replies truthfully. Sukuna doesn’t hate him. He reaches down to align his cock with Yuuji’s waiting hole. For as long as they’re vessel and curse, it’s Sukuna’s role to fill him up. Yuuji seems like he’s about to say something else but it’s broken with a silent gasp, his eyes gone wide and his pupils dilated, when Sukuna pushes inside him.
Sukuna slides inside, slowly, filling him up inch by inch, letting him adjust to what he’s already so used to. “Fuck,” Sukuna breathes out, the pleasure pooling in his abdomen with pleasant intensity. Yuuji’s always so fucking tight and hot, always sucking Sukuna in so greedily.
Yuuji whines when Sukuna’s all the way in, face scrunched up cutely. His voice strained, he says, “I can’t wait until we die.”
Sukuna just laughs.
He fucks Yuuji hard and slow, rolling his hips to reach the deepest parts of him, adamant on seeing the way his eyelids flutter with each stroke, accompanied with the prettiest gasp. Yuuji’s violent grip turns softer, his arms coming around Sukuna’s shoulders in a desperate clinging, forcing Sukuna even closer. He tucks his head into Sukuna’s neck, the vibration of his cries tickling against his skin.
For a long moment, Sukuna savors this. He savors the closeness of their bodies, Yuuji’s precious gasps and whines, the way he clenches around his cock on each downstroke like he’s desperate to keep him, the feeling of Yuuji’s strong arms holding onto him, the slickness of the sweat that’s building on the both of them, the white-hot pleasure coursing through his veins that somehow contribute to the bizarre ache in his chest, and the feeling of the soft silk beneath his limbs.
And most of all, just like Yuuji, Sukuna savors the fact that it’s just the two of them in a closed off world. It’s a lonely, private space of two calamities who were meant to bring destruction to everything around them. This is an intimacy he allows himself to cherish in this moment.
Sukuna lifts his head, kisses Yuuji’s wet lips, and sits up, not without grabbing one of Yuuji’s hands and interlacing their fingers together. He keeps fucking into Yuuji, his freehand gripping his thigh. The view is heavenly from this position. Yuuji’s leaking cock jerks with each thrust, his navel glistening. The expression on his bright red face is so lewd it’ll be burned into Sukuna’s memory. His pecs bounce with each upward movement and Sukuna’s teeth ache to bite.
Yuuji squeezes his hand, and Sukuna squeezes back, reassuringly. What’s he reassuring him of? Sukuna’s not sure. That he’s here? He’ll always be here? He’s got him? Whatever it is, Sukuna wants him to know.
“Sukuna,” Yuuji whines, a request evident.
“Yes, baby?”
Sukuna would have treated him like this long ago if he knew he would enjoy his little reactions of surprise so much. The widening eyes, the deepening blush, the tell-tale shiver, the jolt in his cock. They’re like rewards that Sukuna finds delightful. Once Yuuji recovers, he whimpers, “Fuck me like usual.”
Sukuna tsks. “I try to be gentle for you and you choose to be ungrateful?”
Yuuji rolls his eyes. “I didn’t ask for that. There’s a reason I like fucking you so much.”
Sukuna sighs. Guess he’s conditioned the brat too much. He pulls out, manhandles Yuuji onto his back, shoves himself back inside in one harsh movement, and yanks onto Yuuji’s hair, pulling him upwards until he’s on his knees, back bowed in an arch that must be painful. Not that Yuuji can’t handle it. Sukuna drives in and out of him brutally, giving him all the force he’s used to, all the rough handling he can’t get enough of.
Yuuji’s gorgeous screams make it worth it. He sounds so pretty, so broken. His hands scrabble until he finds Sukuna’s flesh, tearing through skin and drawing blood—he’s so good at drawing blood. One hand still in his hair, Sukuna wraps the other around his throat, applying pressure that has Yuuji’s screams turning into erotic desperate gasps for air.
“Is this what you wanted?” Sukuna asks, his breathing ragged as he presses his lips against Yuuji’s ear.
“Yes,” Yuuji cries.
“You like being my little whore? All for me?”
Yuuji nods.
“Say it.”
“I love being your whore, Sukuna.”
“Sukuna-what?”
Yuuji turns his head to cut a glare at him. Sukuna gives a violent yank to his hair, watching him wince in pain, but his leaking cock tells a different story.
“Sukuna-sama,” Yuuji gasps. “I love your cock, Sukuna-sama.”
“Good boy, Yuuji,” he purrs in his ear. “So good for me.”
Sukuna gives a final squeeze to his throat before snaking his hand downward and grasping his cock, hard and heated against his palm. His grip is tight and rough as he strokes him, forcing a beautiful keen out of Yuuji’s throat, his hips stuttering as if he doesn’t know whether to thrust into Sukuna’s hand or fuck himself back on Sukuna’s cock.
Sukuna gently kisses down the warm and sweaty expanse of Yuuji’s neck. Then he sinks his teeth into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, delectable blood bursting into his mouth, and Yuuji takes the sharpest intake of air, arching even further, his cock pulsing violently in Sukuna’s hand, come spilling over his fingers. Sukuna keeps working him on both ends, pounding into him and not letting up on his grip, sucking the blood from the gushing wound.
“That’s it, Yuuji, feel good for me,” he coos, digging his tongue into the teeth marks, knowing it stings with the way Yuuji hisses. Sukuna brings his hand to his mouth and licks it clean, Yuuji’s come bittersweet on his bloody tongue. He then tilts Yuuji’s head to kiss him deeply, inhaling every moan and whine and every last bit of air, forcing him to taste the very essence of himself.
Yuuji’s come, blood and spit in his mouth is the most delightful combination Sukuna has ever tasted.
He drops Yuuji, watching him barely catch himself on the bed with his arms before collapsing anyway, the hard muscle in his back expanding as he tries to catch his breath. It’s in vain, however, with how Sukuna starts fucking him again, no technique but pure madness, hellbent on chasing his own pleasure and filling Yuuji up to the brim. He fucks him so hard the slapping of their skin stings, and he won’t be surprised if Yuuji’s pale asscheeks end up bruised.
Yuuji screams his throat raw, fingers clawing at the silk as he writhes helplessly underneath Sukuna, splayed out like a meal. He’s so fucking beautiful it drives Sukuna insane. Everything about him is beautiful—his youthful face, his smooth tan skin, his rippling muscles, his tiny waist, his pretty voice, his big brown eyes, and his stupid fucking unwavering kindness. His heart is beautiful, and Sukuna hates it as much as he adores it.
Yuuji shouldn’t be beautiful but he is. He’s the very embodiment of beauty. Sukuna hadn’t realized he valued beauty so much.
Yuuji braces himself on his arms and turns back to look at Sukuna. Sukuna’s pleasure spikes when he sees the welling tears in Yuuji’s eyes, molten hot arousal tightening within his abdomen, sparking throughout his entire body.
“Kiss me,” Yuuji demands. The second Sukuna obeys, their tongues met in a wet and messy collision, a shudder wracks Sukuna’s body as he comes hard, hips jerking as his cock pulses inside of his brat who clenches down. He almost wishes it’d stay forever and turn into something permanent. Yuuji eats every sound Sukuna makes, kissing him as the waves of pleasure and something else foreign washes over his being, rendering him sickeningly vulnerable.
Maybe I don’t have to leave him yet.
Sukuna resists the urge to laugh at himself. What is he even thinking? What is he turning into? Has he really spent far too much time with the brat than he should have allowed? Was his patience useless?
He doesn’t care right now though. He can’t care right now, not with how Yuuji collapses back onto the bed, forcing Sukuna down with him, a rough hand coming around to rest in Sukuna’s hair, gently running his fingers through the strands. Sukuna could almost call the action tender and loving.
He kisses Yuuji’s temple.
Sukuna doesn’t move off him nor does he pull out of him. He doesn’t want to. He wants to stay in this moment for as long as he can. He wants to stay in this period of comfortable and satiated silence, nothing but panting sounding throughout the domain. He wants to keep feeling whatever this he’s feeling. Whatever this inexplicable emotion is—but it’s not so inexplicable, is it? It’s the feeling that’s making him want to remain trapped inside of Yuuji just a little longer. It’s the feeling that’s making him want to cling onto the three little words he knows Yuuji doesn’t hear often. Three little words that once meant nothing to Sukuna. They still shouldn’t mean anything.
The urge to say them is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. Sukuna doesn’t hate it as much as he wishes he did. It’ll pass. He knows it will.
“Sukuna, can you get up?”
“Do I have to?”
Yuuji giggles. The sound makes Sukuna want to die when his chest tightens. Yuuji urges, “Come on, Sukuna-sama, get off me.”
The honorific makes Sukuna’s cock twitch. It rolls so perfectly out of his mouth, he ought to call him that regularly. Reluctantly, Sukuna pulls out of him, his body yearning to be right back inside. He joins Yuuji at his side, who immediately snuggles in closer to him. Yuuji cradles Sukuna’s face, thumb stroking his cheek, gazing into Sukuna’s eyes with a look that can’t be anything but longing. Yuuji kisses him. Then he whispers, “What are you planning? What will happen to me?”
Sukuna raises an eyebrow. Has he caught on? “What do you mean?”
Yuuji sighs a sad sigh. Sukuna usually savors his dejectedness. He doesn’t want that right now. Sukuna can’t help but wonder what could have possibly been of their relationship had they met under different circumstances. What if they had met in the past and Yuuji, ever so snarky and stubborn, didn’t possess his indiscriminate kindness and compassion? What if he possessed the necessary traits to be by Sukuna’s side?
But he wouldn’t be Itadori Yuuji, would he?
It’s Sukuna’s turn to sigh. This is ridiculous. Sukuna kisses him gently, a kiss that could almost be called chaste. “Brat.”
“What?”
“I love you.” Sukuna says it because it feels right to say. Sukuna says it because he’s never said it before. To anyone.
Yuuji’s eyes do not widen. He doesn’t light up like a torch. He’s so close that Sukuna can feel the way his entire body tenses—and Sukuna is foolish for not having expected the scornful scowl that etches deeply onto Yuuji’s face. “No, you don’t.”
“You don’t have to believe me.”
“Good because I don’t. You don’t even believe yourself. You have no reason to love me, and even if you are telling the truth, you have a piss poor way of showing it.”
“What if I started loving you today?” Sukuna asks, chuckling.
“Had you loved me months ago would you not have ruined my fucking life in Shibuya?”
“You didn’t like my gift? I’d burn the world down for you, you know.”
“What the hell are you saying?” Yuuji asks, almost sounding concerned.
Sukuna doesn’t even know. It doesn’t matter. Right now, Sukuna loves him. He probably won’t tomorrow. By this time next week, they’ll probably be far apart from each other anyway. Yuuji will have a fresh reason to resent him with all the spite he can conjure in his big heart. In this moment, though, Yuuji still lets Sukuna kiss him, making no move to leave his domain.
After a long moment, he whispers, “Can you tell me again? Just so I can pretend it’s real even for a little bit?”
It’s their last time. It’s Yuuji’s right to be indulged.
“I love you, Yuuji. Everything about you. Even the parts that make me want to kill you,” he whispers, meaning it.
Yuuji laughs. “Same to you.”
“No. Say it.”
“I love you, Sukuna.” He says it like it’s easy.
“Indulge me further,” Sukuna orders.
“Ugh, weirdo,” Yuuji groans. “I love you, Sukuna-sama.”
Nothing about their dynamic will change. Sukuna knows Yuuji’s hatred like Sukuna knows himself. Sukuna will still leave when the time is right, leaving Yuuji empty and alone and betrayed. He’ll leave with the most vivid memories of his original vessel. And Sukuna will still be the one to take his life because it can only be him.
Yuuji’s life is for him. Sukuna doesn’t need to cling to feelings that are utterly human.
At this moment, Yuuji is precious. Yuuji was an amazing vessel. Yuuji provided stellar entertainment both in and out of his domain.
Sukuna will never forget Itadori Yuuji.