Sukufushi
Slight Nsfw ; blood
Sukuna carving up Fushiguro's back after sex
Fushiguro frowned.
Then he frowned even deeper when he realized he was frowning, he shouldn't be frowning he shouldn't be disappointed. He should be glad that the king of curses despite being a rough asshole, granted him this so that he wouldn't have to look at and feel the affairs of the previous nights.
.....'who was he kidding'
Spearing one last glance at his r̶e̶g̶r̶e̶t̶f̶u̶l̶l̶y̶ clear and unblemished skin, his gaze lingering on his back he Sighed rewrapping his towel around him having just hopped out the shower.
'he still felt bare'
He should stop lying to himself.
The first time it happened, it just happened. And now he wasn't sure how exactly he'd become ok with it, more then ok with it actually, liking it, wanting it, craving almost-
But that's a can of worms he's willing to put off touching...for a long while.
For now there's just one thing he's just too curious about.
What the hell was Sukuna doing to his back?
*******************
There's never really much of "pillow talk" after their little 'sessions' but each time the atmosphere had graduately gotten insanely calm and almost, surprisingly comforting.
Along with this atmosphere came a habit Sukuna had developed from the first time he'd taken him. Like the previous times, when they both came down from their high and Megumi's breath eased, his back turned to the other, Sukuna's hand thrown lazily yet with underlaying possessiveness over his waist, currently littered with light bites and hand shape bruises, pink and purple against his skin.
Before Sukuna started with what Megumi's mentally refers to now as his "weird after sex ritual" he simply runs his hands down his back a few times before bringing those long black nails , that he surprisingly didn't use much on him during the actual act (on purpose anyway), he brought somewhere on the smooth skin of his back. He long stop flinching when his long tendrils broke the skin of his back, precise and slow cuts, probably no more then scratches but most likely enough to draw some blood, he's seen small stains of red on his sheets the mornings after, the only explanation.
Unless the King of curses had some kinda human canvas fetish and liked to doodle (though he doesn't put it pass the guy) from also the sensation of the movement and strikes he'd come to the conclusion that they were most likely words. Why? He doesn't know, never asked again after the first time, only got a neutral "stay still" and he just let it happened after that.
But his curiosity only grew when he kept doing it only to heal it and all of his collection injuries, aches, love bites and blemishes of the the night, leaving nothing for him to look at the next day. Which he was thankful for, there was no distracting pain or no mark for anyone to be suspicious and ask questions about but he couldn't kick the underlying feeling of disappointed when he looked in the mirror the mornings after. It was like he liked getting cut. did he?
He wouldn't say it was pleasant, if he had to admit anything was pleasant it was light way he touch around the carvings after he supposingly finished one, too already worn out to shiver but still feeling the warmth pool in his skin, so he definitely and weirdly enough didn't hate it. The twinge of pain of his nails bearly noticeable.
The small stinging sensation that would be left behind would soon fade to the back of his mind, replaced with savouring the feel of the curses lips, feathering kisses over each one and fingering them lightly as if admiring his 'work." And this is where he'd fall asleep, whether it was just him waiting for Sukuna to finish or it's just where his breath finally settles and exhaustion finally takes him after his little ritual, During the curse's barrage of kisses. light kisses. Light kisses he didn't, wouldn't- doesn't want to call nice or affectionate and wrote off as mostly praise, he'd feels his consciously completely fading, but with one thing in mind, his mouth sleepily moved on his own, he himself not even registering his own words "don't heal me." And he was out. Not being able to even think about getting a response, Taken by his exhaustion and lulled by the one he's suppose to hate breathing in his ears, accompanied but the alluring heart beat he would always forget wasn't even truely his when they were wrapped up together like this.
****************
Listening to the even breathing of the raven in his arms, definitely out cold now, Sukuna chuckled pressing a kiss to the nape of his back, tracing a finger over a peice of the message carved into the boy's skin.
He was beginning to wonder if the boy had not a curious bone in his body.
Gently turning the raven to face him, he cupped his face, drawing circles on his jaw. He had- no has, great plans. Plans, after witnessing the potential for greatness the boy had, wants to incorporate him into them. Though plans may have changed just a tiny bit.
He was getting soft and if he didn't play this right Fushiguro Megumi was gonna be the death of him.
"As you wish my Raven."
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So how was it?
And What do you think Sukuna carves/writes on Fushiguro's back? 👀
