sukuna x y/n: Saviour Of The Shadows

Sukuna's confession

The first light of dawn breaking over the forest, Sukuna rouses from his watch, his eyes sweeping over the clearing with an assessing gaze before settling on you. He rises fluidly, approaching where you lie curled up in the tunic.

'Morning, brat,' he murmurs, kneeling beside you and brushing a strand of hair from your face. 'How did you sleep?' He asks, his voice low and rough with sleepiness.

There's a tenderness in his touch, a warmth that belies the coolness of the pre-dawn air.

Sukuna's fingers trail along your cheek, tracing the curve of your jawline before dropping to your lips, where they linger for a moment, as if savouring the memory of your breath.

You nod, your eyelids still heavy with the remnants of dreams. Sukuna's closeness, the softness of his voice, the warmth of his skin against yours all conspire to keep you nestled in the cozy haze of sleep.

'Now, come on,' he says, his hand sliding beneath your shoulder to gently lever you into a sitting position. 'We've got a long day ahead of us, and I could use my second-best navigator at the helm.'

Sukuna's words, laced with affection and a hint of playfulness, are enough to dispel the last wisps of slumber.
You blink open your eyes, taking in the sight of him - the rough texture of his unshaven cheeks, the gleam of dawn's first light on the dark locks that tumble over his forehead, the piercing intensity of his eyes as they meet yours.

'Second-best navigator, eh?' you say, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. 'Careful, Sukuna, or I might start getting a big head.'

Sukuna chuckles, the sound a deep, rich vibration that seems to reverberate in the pit of your stomach.

He leans in, his breath a warm caress against your lips as he responds.

'Oh, I'd like to see that, brat. You'd need a pretty big head to compete with mine.' (Take it as you'd like ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

The tease is playful, but the underlying current is something deeper, a thread of desire and affection that winds through the banter.

Sukuna's hand tightens around your shoulder, a gesture both possessive and comforting as he pulls you closer.

'Come on,' he repeats, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone. 'We can't afford to tarry. We've got a curse to unravel, and a Queen to defeat.'

Sukuna rises, offering you a hand up. As you take it, his fingers close around yours, a surge of warmth and strength flowing through the contact.
In that moment, you feel a connection that goes beyond mere companionship or even love - it's a bond forged in the crucible of shared danger, of trust and reliance on each other to survive the darkness that threatens to consume them both.

As Sukuna guides you through the forest, his grip on your hand tightens when you stumble over an exposed root or a tangle of underbrush.
His touch is a reassuring anchor in the treacherous terrain, a reminder that you're not alone in this fight.

Despite the weight of your quest, there's a sense of easy camaraderie between you as you navigate the twisting paths.
Sukuna regales you with tales of his adventures in the Shadowlands, his voice low and conspiratorial as he recounts the exploits of a thousand-year-old curse who's seen his fair share of battles and bedding.

As the sun climbs higher in the sky, the forest grows quieter, the only sounds the rustle of leaves beneath your feet and the distant call of some unseen bird.

Sukuna leads you to a clearing, the grass a vibrant emerald in the sunlight.

'In here,' he says, his eyes scanning the perimeter with a practiced air. 'This should provide a modicum of protection. We can take a moment to rest and refocus before we push on.'

He releases your hand to start unpacking the supplies from his bag, the simple, practical movements a contrast to the turmoil of emotions that seem to simmer just below the surface of his gaze.

As he works, Sukuna's shoulders are slightly hunched, as if he's carrying the weight of his own demons on top of the external threats.

'You okay?' you ask, moving to stand beside him and laying a hand on his arm.

Sukuna's gaze flickers to you, a flash of vulnerability in the depths before he masks it with a wry smile.

'Just tired, brat. A thousand years of existence can be exhausting, even with a curse like mine.'
His voice is light, but the weariness is palpable, etched into the lines of his face and the sag of his posture.

Sukuna's free hand covers yours on his arm, his fingers warm and calloused against your skin.

'I'll be alright. We all have our cross to bear,' he continues, though the words seem forced, a coping mechanism to deflect the weight of his own pain.

Sukuna glances around the clearing, a fleeting look of discomfort crossing his features before he turns back to you.
His eyes search yours intently, as if seeking something - reassurance, comfort, or perhaps a deeper connection.

'I just... I don't know what I'd do without you here, brat. You're the only light in the darkness, the only one who sees past the curse and the shadows.'

His confession is a vulnerable admission, a raw glimpse of the man beneath the powerful curse and the guarded exterior.
For a moment, the forest around you seems to hold its breath, waiting for your response.