Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

042. Give Me Life

A month later...

Married life was busy. While Sukuna immersed himself in a whirlwind of reports, war plans, and strategic training with his army of curses, you remained just as busy: educating those under your care, studying tirelessly, and training at dawn. Also, as always, you defended your commune from your trench disguised as privilege.

During that time, your sisters had also grown and developed their techniques at an impressive speed without your help. Nanako turned out to be an artist with terrifying talent: her cursed technique allowed her to create detailed images of her targets, and the more precise the portrait, the more lethal the shot. Every stroke could become a death sentence.

Mimiko, on the other hand, had a darker skill. She made enchanted stuffed animals that connected with their victims, and with a simple gesture, she could suffocate them from anywhere in the world. The macabre coexisted with the tender in her technique, a contradiction that made her even more dangerous.

You knew that both of them needed to perfect their skills if they wanted to strengthen their technique. So, without hesitation, you asked Kenjaku to teach her how to draw. He agreed. Every afternoon, for an hour after your classes, Kenjaku became an art teacher: he taught color theory, anatomy, perspective, and technique. The results were quickly noticeable; Nanako's portraits began to take on a disturbing realism.

Meanwhile, you had taken Mimiko to the most talented seamstresses, the most skilled hands in the castle despite their advanced age, to teach her how to sew better and to give her the scraps of the robes the king ruined with his enemy's blood.

At the end of the lesson, without fail, the teacher returned to his confinement. Sukuna still hadn't lifted the punishment for having the audacity to slap you. The scar of that act wasn't on your face, but on his daily condemnation.

With such busy lives, you and Sukuna rarely spent time together during the day. Your paths only crossed on dark nights after curfew, but you'd come to bed so tired that you only went to sleep. Sukuna hated it; something had to change. So you decided to make a deal with the clock: waking up an hour before dawn, just for the two of you.

You talked. You hugged in silence. You made love with the delicacy of those who didn't want the world to find you. Sometimes, all three things happened at the same time: words between kisses, caresses between sighs, and promises murmured against your skin. In that fragile hour before dawn, you weren't kings or warriors, just two souls seeking refuge in each other.

Sukuna held you by the waist while holding your backside with one of his lower hands. With the other, he held your leg over his waist, opening you enough to continue penetrating you slowly but deeply. The king kissed your flushed face while moaning at how good it felt.

"You look so beautiful." Sukuna growled before kissing your shoulder and biting at your flesh until it released a thin trail of blood, which he quickly licked to heal it.

"Kuna, don't be so rough," you begged him between moans.

"You are too damn hard to resist, my daisy. You're so soft and sweet, I just want to devour you whole so we can share the same body." Sukuna whispered to you, pressing himself closer to your body, so his member could fit better.

"You wouldn't like it if I bit you that hard," you reprimanded him.

Sukuna contemplated the idea for a moment. "Try it."

"You're crazy." You hid in his neck, ignoring his command.

"Just one bite," Sukuna pleaded in your ear. "You're not going to hurt me."

"Sukuna..." You moaned and complained at the same time.

"Come on, you'd make me the happiest man in the world if you bite me." Sukuna begged you, but you shook your head that you wouldn't. You couldn't. You didn't want to hurt him willingly. "I'll send food to the commune if you bite me."