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A warm summer breeze blows through the open engawa doors. You’re seated at a low table, legs folded neatly underneath you. You’re sorting through mail, a task Sukuna had appointed you many many years ago.
Your concentration is ruined when a pained scream breaks your comfortable silence.
The door behind you slides open, and a woman, desperately clutching a sheet to her chest, runs out of the room. Sukuna follows, naked as the day he was born.
“How am I to have an heir if not one of you will mother him?” he bellows.
The concubine squeaks, terrified.
With a sigh, you stand. You escort the concubine out of the room and see that she’s taken care of. When you return, Sukuna has at least pulled on a pair of loose trousers.
“Do you torture these women?” you ask, striding into the room.
He grunts. “I do what any king does. I try to, at least.”
“All due respect, my lord.” You gesture to him. “You’re scary.”
He crosses both sets of arms and scowls at you. “Good. I should be scary.”
“Not to concubines.” You click your tongue. You’ve been Sukuna’s personal maid for years now, and you’ve developed a casual relationship with him. “If you need an heir, then you need your woman to be aroused, not terrified.”
“I know what I need,” he says gruffly. “But they’re like little mice. They shy away from every touch.”
“Do you growl at them like you do at me?” You settle back at the table and pour him a cup of tea. “That scares most people.”
He bares his teeth, but doesn’t say anything.
“Women are of the fairer sex. You have to be soft with them,” you say calmly.
“I am not a soft person,” Sukuna says. He leans back on two hands and picks up the tea with a third. “I’m a warlord. Soft isn’t in my vocabulary.”
“It must be, if you’re ever to father a child.” You stare at him calmly.
His brow creases. “You’re far too comfortable with me. I should threaten your life more often.”
“If you wish, my lord.” You look back down at the table and continue sorting through the letters addressed to him.
“How is it that I don’t scare you, yet every single woman I need hates me?” He huffs softly.
You try to hide a smile. It’s funny to see a huge, monstrous creature, with four arms and two faces, who towers above you and everyone else in the palace, huffy about concubines. It’s not as if he hides his emotions — the servants in the palace are well versed in his fits of rage — but you’re the only one to see him like this.
“I’ve known you for years, and I spend every waking minute near you.” You push a pile of mail toward him. He raises an eyebrow. “Even you stopped being scary to me after I was exposed so much.”
“Exposure therapy, then.” He grunts. “Have the concubines summoned to the dining room. They’ll attend dinner with me tonight.”
“All of them?” You scrawl his instructions down on a nearby piece of paper.
“The pretty ones.”
You squint at him.
He stares back. It’s a tense moment before he leans forward and braces his top two arms against the table. “You heard me.”
“The pretty ones,” you murmur. “I’ll make sure they’re there. And I’ll have your chambers prepared for afterwards.”
“Excellent.” He climbs to his feet and stretches all four arms over his head. His monstrous form towers above you. “Get my robe. We’re going for a walk.”
You push yourself up and scurry to the closet to find him a silk robe. Although it’s much more informal than anything any humans wear, he likes to simply drape a robe over his shoulders and call it a day. It’s probably easier than trying to wear an entire kimono that was only made for someone with two arms.
You can’t actually reach — your head just barely comes up to his shoulder — so you hand the robe to him instead of trying to get him dressed. He prefers to dress himself, anyways, insisting you’re too slow and only get in the way.
He treads over to the engawa and steps outside. For a minute, he just stands there with his eyes closed, seemingly admiring the warm sun on his skin. You watch his arms flex beneath the fabric of his robe as he slides it off his shoulders to soak up more sun.
After a moment, you step out beside him. “My lord?”
He grunts. “Silence.”
You shut your mouth. His word is law, as casual as your relationship is.
You follow him as he treads onto the path to the gardens. You know his habits, so by the time you reach the gazebo, you’re already ready to pull out the large chair at the table for him. He likes to come here on nice days.
“Sit,” he says. He summons you over a crook of his fingers.
You know very well that it was not a request. You sit in the chair across from him and try to decipher his mood. He has his lower arms crossed, and he’s stroking his face with one of his free hands.
“You look deep in thought, my lord,” you say, breaking the silence.
“They’re such small woman. I don’t understand how to handle someone that small without breaking her.” He taps the fingers of his free hand on the table. “Humans are extraordinarily fragile.”
“And you’re far stronger than a human, my lord,” you say. “Not to mention two faces, four arms and more mouths than one man could ever need.”
He bares his teeth at you, but you hold a hand up. “I am only stating fact, my lord. In their eyes, you are a monster. I know this to be untrue, but they do not. These women were taken from their homes to be your concubine. They don’t trust you.”
“Trust,” he mutters. “A funny thing. The only one I trust is you.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Me?”
“Yes. Everyone has their own agenda, but you exist to serve me.” He stares at you, gaze piercing. “You wouldn’t betray me because you have devoted your entire life to me. I am your life.”
You dip your head in a respectful nod. “That is correct, my lord. I only want the best for you. But if you’re to make your concubines comfortable, you need to give them a bit of trust, too. More importantly, they need to trust that you won’t hurt them.”
“There’s no guarantee of that.”
“Perhaps keep that to yourself.” You hum sagely. “If you want an heir, you need to focus on all aspects of a relationship, including the emotions. The physical is another beast in itself.”
“The physical is the only thing I need. I have no interest in a relationship with the concubines. What they do with their silly little lives is their business. As long as they give me what I need, they’re useful to me.”
You sigh. He’s not the easiest to get through to sometimes, being a deadly curse user and maniacal tyrant. The crown he wears is stained with the blood of everyone he slaughtered to get here. It’s safe to say he doesn’t find much value in a human life. “With that attitude, they’ll be scared of you forever.”
“What do you propose I do?” He raises an eyebrow at you and taps his fingers against the table.
“Be kind. Gentle. Even if you’re just pretending.” You watch the muscles in his jaw tighten. “Do you want an heir or not?”
He glares at you. “Sometimes I do think about killing you.”
“If you killed me, who would make you tea just the way you like?” You gaze back at him calmly.
“It would be so easy to dismember you.” The fingers on his lower arms twitch, like he’s aching to squeeze the life out of you.
“And yet you haven’t done so, my lord.” You rest your hand on your chin.
“Do you not fear for your life?” His brow furrows.
“I have reason to believe you won’t hurt me. You enjoy my company.”
He scoffs. “I do not enjoy anyone’s company. You’re simply a valuable person to keep around.”
You smile faintly. Even if he denies it, he does like you. “My lord, I’d like to go get the preparations for dinner started.”
He grunts softly and waves one of his hands. “Very well. Have a bath prepared for me as well.”
You dip your head once and stand. “Of course, my lord.”
You leave him in the gardens to return to the main palace. You cut through the living spaces for the concubines to observe. They notice you, of course — who wouldn’t notice Lord Sukuna’s personal maid scouting the area? A few of them linger near doorways, watching you.
You ignore them for now and continue to the kitchen. Dinner must be prepared if anyone is to eat, and you know how hungry Sukuna gets around this time. If he’s not fed, he’s even worse than usual.
Satisfied with the status of the kitchen, you loop back around to the conucubines’ quarters. Most of them have disappeared by now, but you’re fortunate enough to know his favorite ones.
They each take the news the same way — fear flashes through their eyes, and they grow tense. The youngest flinches when she hears your words. “Lord Sukuna has invited you to dinner. It is recommended you attend.”
With the guests in order, you retreat to his chambers. He hasn’t returned yet, so you busy yourself preparing a bath for him. You make sure to use all his favorite oils and salts, and place a large towel nearby for him.
When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s just entering the room. He towers over you, but his eyes flick straight past you and land on the bath. He shrugs his robe off his shoulders and walks toward it.
You’re at his side instantly, catching the clothing he discards. He climbs into the tub and sighs as he sinks into the warm bath.
“Would you like assistance, my lord?” You pick up a gentle sponge to use on his skin.
He doesn’t say anything, but tilts his head back. You take the hint and dip the sponge into the hot water, then cover it with soap.
Sukuna almost relaxes under your touch. You scrub every inch of him, rinsing off the grime of the past few days. He even allows you to wash his hair.
When he finally emerges from the bath, he smells like earth and musk. His salmon hair is matted down to his head, and he’s dripping wet. You cover your face as he shakes like a dog and soaks the room with water.
“Don’t just stand there.” He crosses two arms and snaps at you. “Get my clothing.”
“Yes, my lord.” You turn to the clothing you had brought in with you — a loose pair of linen pants he likes, and another silk robe, this one black.
He dresses himself, then pushes his way out of the room. “When is dinner ready?”
“As soon as you are, my lord.” You nod your head to the door. “The concubines should already be waiting.”
He gives you an almost unreadable look. Almost — you know him too well to not read his emotions. He’s mildly impressed, and maybe even happy. “Good. Come along, then.”
You follow him through the halls of the palace and to the dining room. Four women are already seated at the table, but none of them look up when Sukuna enters the room. They look terrified.
Sukuna glances around the room, then settles at the head of the table, bracing two hands on his knees and resting his other two on the table. “No greeting for your king?”
There’s a soft, “Hello, Lord Ryomen,” but you can’t tell who says it.
Soon after he’s seated, the kitchen staff emerges quietly with the food. They serve everyone, then retreat back to their sanctuary. Not many can actually stand be to around Sukuna, with the exception of you.
The dinner is tense and silent. None of the women try to make conversation, nor does Sukuna. Despite his hulking and terrifying appearance, you can feel the anxiety radiating off of him. He’s nervous, just as much as they are.
Dessert and tea go by quickly, and then he stands. He looks at you pointedly and starts back toward his room.
You sigh. Men. You walk over to the table. “Lord Sukuna would like to invite you all to his chambers.”
They exchange glances. Finally, the oldest woman asks, “Is that a request?”
“No.” You cross your arms. You watch as they all stand and follow after him.
You end up in his chambers as well, but not his bedroom. That door remains closed, while you sit in the living area.
The door flies open not long after. All four women scramble out of the room, obviously terrified. You watch them go, then peek in after they leave.
Sukuna is lying on his bed, chin propped up in one hand. He scowls at you. “Are you here to offer more advice that doesn’t work?”
“What happened?” You step into the room. The lights are low, and incense is burning by the window. It’s exactly the place to get into the mood, especially with the bed big enough for four people.
“I hurt one of them. By accident.” He rolls his eyes. “They all left.”
“With your strength, it is easy to hurt people.” You step closer to the bed. The room is warm and hazy, and you feel a bit dizzy. “My lord, if I may…I could, perhaps, teach you how to treat a woman gently, so that you might use the skills on your concubines.”
He looks you up and down for a moment. “You’ve spent over a decade with me and you’ve never tried to sleep with me.”
“You’ve never had trouble with concubines before,” you say.
He growls. “Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing. It’s a simple offer, my lord.” You glance at the bed. “It seems a waste if this evening accumulates to nothing for you. This isn’t for me — it’s for you.”
He smirks. “Oh, I’m sure that’s it. You’ve been pining after me for years, haven’t you?”
You laugh softly. “No, my lord. But your life is my life. And if I can help, in any way, I want to.”
He chuckles and rests his head back on his arms. Another hand reaches out to you. “Very well.”
Your breath hitches. He’s your whole life, like you said — every emotion he feels, you feel. But for once, you’re feeling something else — desire. Saliva floods your mouth, and heat pools between your thighs.
Slowly, you close the distance between yourself and the bed. Your palm slips into his huge hand. His skin is surprisingly soft. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when he closes his hand around yours and pulls you forward.
You’ve always known he’s huge — your head is at shoulder level for him, and he’s bulking with muscles. But seeing the size difference now makes something in you deeply satisfied. You’ve never wanted something more.
“Be gentle,” you say softly.
He pulls you closer, arms coming out to reel you in. One on your hip, one on your shoulder, and one on the back of your neck. The last hand tugs at your thigh, pulling you straight into his lap.
“That’s not the face of someone who is only doing this to please their master.” One of his hands comes up to hold your face. He squeezes, and tears well up in your eyes.
“Gentle,” you remind him. His grip loosens, and you sigh softly. “You must remember your own strength, my lord. Humans are fragile beings compared to you.”
“Fragile,” he echos. He gently turns your head in his grasp, examining your features. “You’re so small in my grasp.”
“You must make sure to make your partner comfortable.” Your hand presses gently to his chest. “Many women enjoy kissing.”
“You want me to kiss you.” It’s not a question. His voice is low and darker than you’ve ever heard. It makes your pulse race. “You’re a greedy creature.”
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “It’s merely foreplay. You want to learn, don’t you?”
His eyes are dark as he pushes his thumb against your lips. He leans in and presses a kiss to the back of his thumb.
Your breath hitches softly as his hand comes down to cradle your jaw, and your lips finally seal in a kiss. His mouth is hot and hungry, almost demanding. His tongue invades your mouth, circling roughly.
You push him back gently. “Too aggressive, my lord. G — "
“Gentle,” he snaps. “I know.”
“Think of it as tasting someone.” You hold his gigantic head in your hands and lean forward to gently kiss his top lip, then his bottom. He mimics your movements, and when your tongue swipes at his bottom lip, he allows you entry. You can taste the tea he had after dinner. He kisses you tenderly, taking his time with you. It makes your stomach flutter, and you find your hands sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck. Between kisses, you murmur, “At this point…you can make it more…heated.”
He bites down on your lip and drags it out. You moan at the soft sting of it. “Heated?”
“You want an heir, don’t you?” You try to catch your breath.
He hums and rests two hands on your hips. The others go to your robe, trying to tug it open, but you hold it closed. “Goddammit. You’re the one who suggested this, and now you’re denying me too. I’ve become involuntarily celibate.”
“No, I promise.” You rest your hands on his wrists. “I just want you to look at something for a moment.”
He watches with interest as you wrap your fingers around his middle and ring finger. They take up the whole palm of your hand, and you can’t quite wrap your fingers all the way around. “What does this prove?”
“If your fingers are this big, I imagine other things are, as well.” Your thumb rubs over one of his nails. “Most women won’t be able to handle it. First and foremost, you need foreplay. Kissing, touching. Enough to get her aroused.”
Sukuna growls softly and grabs the collar of your kimono. “You’re a whore.”
“Perhaps,” you say. You notice, with glee, that he still closes his eyes to accept your kiss. He trusts you.
It’s pleasant when he kisses you this time. It’s a back and forth conversation between the two of you. Your thoughts spin out of control, however, when he trails kisses to the corner of your lip, down your jaw and to your neck. He stays there, kissing and sucking at the supple skin. He’s slowly becoming aware of his strength, it seems, and the bruises feel nice.
His free hands trail down to your thighs. He spreads them wide, and with the hands on your hips, he starts to move you. It’s such a soft motion you almost don’t notice it at first. Your hips twitch into his hands, and you take in a breath when you feel how hard he is beneath you. His mouth is busy on your neck, leaving purple bruises and bite marks that will be visible for days to come.
“You — " You bite back a whimper. “You’re doing good. This is perfect.”
His eyes lock on you as you start untying the knots keeping your clothing on. The silk slips off your shoulders, revealing your bare skin beneath. The soft swell of your breasts seems to have captivated him. The mouth on his stomach opens, and you swallow hard as you look at it.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, voice rough and low. “It will feel good.”
Given the amount he complains about women, you didn’t think he’d be pulling that out of nowhere. It makes you shiver, and you moan softly as his abdominal mouth sucks at one of your nipples.
“How am I doing?” He looks at your face, finally, an earnest expression there.
“Incredible,” you breathe, watching his face morph into a smile at the praise. You tuck that mental note away for later. “You should — woah!”
He turns you around, pressing your back to his bare chest, and shoves your underwear down. He holds it up with one hand. “You said you’ll need foreplay, correct?”
You nod and look back at him. “Most will.”
“Then sit still and enjoy it.” He wraps two arms around your waist, holding you tightly, while one slips down to play with your clit. His last hand is gripping your thigh, keeping your legs spread for him. You’re shuddering and shaking in a way you never have, and literally dripping down your thighs. Your cunt clenches around nothing.
Sukuna watches you closely, taking in your trembling features. His clothed cocks, achingly hard, grind against the cleft of your ass.
“Now,” you breathe, voice trembling, “Now — I’m ready for more. Fuck. Start with your fingers.”
“Why?” he asks, even as he does as told. His fingers slip lower, and practically glide inside of you.
You moan and clench around his fingers. Like the rest of him, they’re huge. “You’re — hngh — too big to take without them.”
“Oh,” he breathes. His breath hitches as he watches his fingers plunge inside you, massaging your velvety walls in smooth strokes. “You are very tight.”
You whimper and tilt your head back to look at him. “S-some might enjoy kissing during this. On the mouth or neck.”
He shifts, his arms around your waist loosening. His fingers dig into your thigh, keeping your legs spread. He leans down to kiss your lips, but moves before you can get too into it. His lips trail down to your neck before he sinks his teeth in.
You moan, the pain mixing so well with the pleasure. Your hips rock into his hand, chasing the friction. “Faster, oh — f-fuck!”
His hand moves faster, and the heel of his palm smacks against your clit. He’s a good student — he slips his index finger inside. The stretch is enough to send you over the edge. You clench and spasm around his fingers, and cry out as he bites your neck again.
Your climax seems to last forever, cunt clenching around his thick fingers. “Ah — ngh, my-my lord — "
He nips gently at your ear. “No need to be so formal.”
“Fuck,” you gasp, head tilting back against his huge chest. He’s playing with your tits again, you don’t know how — he has too many hands for you to keep track of right now.
He pulls your hips back into his lap, grinding you against him. “Fuck. I fear the concubines will never live up to this.”
One of his hands is on your jaw, then, and he tilts your face toward him. Your mouths slot together in a messy, passionate kiss. Desire bubbles beneath your skin, along with another emotion you can’t quite place.
When he finally pulls away, a string of spit connects you. It snaps off and lands on your bare chest. His eyes follow it before he leans down to lick it off of you.
You make a soft noise as he kisses and bites at the top of your breasts. It hurts, but in a nice way. You know you’re supposed to be teaching him to be gentle, but you don’t want this to stop. You want to have bruises all over you tomorrow, and you want to see where he’s marked you.
“Look at you.” Sukuna captures your chin between two fingers. He tilts your face up until your eyes meet his. “You’ve always been mine. Now you truly belong to me.”
Your stomach flips. “Always yours, my lord.”
“Mine.” The word is breathed out against your neck. He repeats it, like a mantra. “Mine. Mine.”
You squirm in his lap. You want to see him, to squash any doubts he has about you. You live for him. “My lord…Ryomen…”
His head jolts up. He stares at you, all four eyes laser focused on your features. “All these years, you’ve never called me by my first name.”
“I’m sorry, my — "
“No.” He presses a finger to your lips. “Do not be mistaken. It’s something I want to hear always. My name on your lips. I belong to you, as much as you belong to me.”
Your heart flutters. You can’t dwell on the feeling for too long, however, as Sukuna leans down to press a hungry kiss to your lips.
His next move knocks the breath out of you. You find yourself on your back, staring up at him as he hovers over you. Your legs part as he runs a hand up your thigh.
“Yes,” he breathes, eyes fixated on your dripping sex. “Look at that. All mine. Soft and wet. It belongs to me.”
Your breath hitches as you watch him move. He busies himself getting undressed, but he keeps one hand tightly on your thigh while the mouth that cuts across his stomach licks your slick off your thighs. As soon as he leans closer, the tongue is slobbering over your clit and licking broad strokes over your cunt.
You whine and grab one of his shoulders. “R-Ryo — "
He tosses his trousers aside. It’s not like you’ve never seen him naked before, but this is far different than usual. Two cocks, stacked one over the other, hang heavy between his legs. His hand wraps around them both, and he makes a strained noise as he strokes himself slowly.
“You’re going to let me, right?” He lowers himself and angles his hips so one of his fat cocks slides through the mess between your legs. His eyes are wide, absolutely blown with lust. “You’re going to teach me how to fuck you gently?”
You’re nodding before you can even think about the question. Your legs wrap around his waist.
He holds the headboard with two hands and your waist with the others. He stares at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, and rutting against you like a horny teenager.
“Fuck.” You reach up and hook your arm behind his neck. You guide one of his hands to his cock with the other. “Just go slow.”
“Slow,” he repeats, quietly. The thick head of his cock brushes against your slick hole, making you shudder. He gives it another rut, before he finally angles it right and slides in. Immediately, he hisses, overwhelmed by how tight your velvet walls clamp around him.
“Oh, fuck.” All the air has been pushed from your lungs. You cling to the bedsheets, chest heaving. He’s huge, and you don’t even have the tip in. “Oh god — it’s so big — "
“Fuck.” His voice is tense, and his breath is hitching. He hasn’t moved yet.
You look down to see one of his cocks resting on your stomach. It’s twitching wildly, but it also reaches past your belly button — which means his other one will be reaching the same spot inside you.
You both moan as he sinks a little deeper.
“You’re so tight.” He bites down on the pillow above your head and gives an experimental thrust.
You cry out, back arching off the mattress. It’s so much, so fast, and your body scrambles to accept the intrusion. You scratch at his back. “Ah — Ryo…”
He moans into the fluffy pillow and snaps his hips again. He’s trembling when you slide your hands over his shoulders. You run your hand up his neck and to his jaw, then turn his head so he’s looking at you. “Feels good?”
“Feels so good,” he breathes, voice almost a whine.
“Me, too.” You choke on a moan as his cock twitches inside you. “You can start — hnng, start moving.”
He draws his hips back, almost pulling out, before slamming back in. The movement makes an obscene squelch sound that echoes off the chamber walls. It seems to spur him on, because he’s doing it again, then again, then again.
You moan and cling to him, unable to do much other than take it. He’s so big, inside and on top of you, you stand no chance of fighting him off. Not when he has two hands pinning you down, another two keeping the bed in place, and more muscle than you could ever dream of.
“Is this — ah, fuck — gentle enough?” He looks down at you, expression softened in only the way pleasure can do.
“Yes!” Your legs tighten around his waist. He’s throbbing inside you, thick and dripping and so so hard, just for you —
Your cunt clenches, and you feel that dangerous tug in your stomach. “Ryomen — I’m close, I’m close, ngh…” Your hand slides down to between your bodies. It’s slick and filthy down there, but you fumble around anyways. At least, until his hand closes around your wrist, and he pulls it away.
“Trying to touch yourself?” He pushes both your arms until they’re back against the pillow. He holds them there with one hand and pulls your leg up over his hip.
Your breath stutters in your chest. “Please…”
“You sound so pathetic.” He pushes your thighs further apart and rubs his massive fingers in circles over your neglected clit gently. “My pathetic little plaything.”
Your orgasm coils up hot and tight in your belly, his fingers on your clit only adding fuel to the fire. Your thighs begin to quiver as slick heat gushes from between your legs, soaking the fine silk sheets. Your back arches into him, and a wail escapes your throat.
Sukuna groans, low and loud, then curses. Thick ropes of his seed spill inside you, claiming you as his own. It trickles down your thighs when he pulls out.
“That,” you breathe, winded and exhausted. Your whole body aches. “That was amazing.”
He lays down and flexes his arms. “You’re already done?”
“You’re not?” You sit up, even though you can barely keep your eyes open. Although the one you were fucked with is soft, his other cock still stands upright, flushed and begging for attention. You briefly consider using your mouth, but it’s more likely you’ll choke to death before making him come. “Well…you may use my body, my lord, but I apologize. I am far too exhausted to lend help.”
“So.” He pulls you into his lap. “Humans have low stamina.”
You nod blearily. Dried cum is starting to stick to your thighs.
“Then I will have two when it’s necessary.” His hand settles on your hip. He reaches over to extinguish the flame on the lantern nearby. “My wives, and then you.”
“Me?” You look up at him.
“You. My closest confidant.” He runs his fingers through your hair. “You did well. I learned a lot. Rest, now — you deserve it.”
You want to argue, but spots are already dancing behind your vision. You’re not going to be awake much longer. “Thank you, my lord.”
“I think we’re past titles now.” His voice is low. “Get some rest.”
Another blink, and then your eyes close, leaving you dead to the world for the next several hours.