chapters one - seven plus epilogue

King of Curses

A Sukuna x Reader Romance

Chapter 1: Dangerous Games

The binding ritual should have been routine. You'd performed dozens of them before, sealing away cursed objects with practiced precision. But the moment your fingers touched the ancient box containing Sukuna's finger, everything changed.

Power. Raw, intoxicating, terrifying power flooded through you, and suddenly you weren't alone in your own mind.

"Well, well... what have we here?"

The voice was like velvet over steel, dark and amused. You gasped, dropping the finger as visions flashed behind your eyes—a tall figure wreathed in shadows, four arms, intricate tattoos, and eyes like burning coals.

"Such a delicate little thing, yet you can hear me clearly. How... interesting."

"Impossible," you whispered, backing away from the finger. "You're supposed to be sealed."

A rich laugh echoed in your mind. "Sealed, yes. Silent, no. Not from you, it seems. Tell me, little sorcerer—what's your name?"

Against every instinct screaming at you to run, you found yourself answering. Something about his voice compelled honesty, drew you in like a moth to flame.

"Beautiful," he purred after you'd spoken your name. "It suits you. I am Ryomen Sukuna, though I suspect you already know that."

"The King of Curses," you breathed.

"Among other things." There was something predatory in his tone now, something that sent heat pooling in your stomach despite the danger. "You fascinate me, little one. In all my years of imprisonment, no one has been able to hear my voice so clearly. We're connected now, you and I."

"Connected how?"

"Touch the finger again, and find out."

Every rational part of your mind screamed against it. But there was something hypnotic about his voice, something that made you crave more of that intoxicating power.

Your fingers closed around the ancient digit once more.

The world exploded into sensation. You could feel him as if he were standing right behind you—his presence vast and overwhelming, ancient beyond measure yet vibrantly alive. Worse, you could sense his amusement, his intrigue... and something darker.

"There we are," he murmured, and you could swear you felt breath against your ear. "Much better. You feel it, don't you? The pull between us."

You did feel it—a magnetic attraction that terrified and thrilled you in equal measure.

"You should run, little sorcerer. I am everything your kind fears, everything you've been trained to destroy."

"Then why don't I want to?" The question slipped out before you could stop it.

His laugh was pure sin. "Because you recognize what I am beneath the monster they've painted me as. Power calls to power, darkness to darkness. And you, my sweet thing, have more darkness in you than you care to admit."

Heat flooded your cheeks because he was right. There had always been something different about you, something that drew you to the forbidden, the dangerous.

"Keep the finger with you," he commanded softly. "I find I quite enjoy your company."

"I can't—"

"You can. You will." His voice dropped to a whisper that seemed to caress your very soul. "Because you want to hear my voice again. You want to feel this power, this connection. Deny it all you like, but I can taste your desire."

Your hand closed around the finger of its own accord, and you felt his satisfaction like a warm tide.

"Good girl. Until next time."

His presence faded, leaving you alone and shaking, the cursed finger clutched against your chest like a guilty secret.

Chapter 2: Temptation

For three days, you tried to resist. The finger sat in your apartment, wrapped in protective seals, while you went about your missions and training as if nothing had changed. But every quiet moment, you found yourself staring at it, remembering the intoxicating rush of power, the dark velvet of his voice.

On the fourth night, your resolve crumbled.

The moment you touched the finger, he was there, his presence wrapping around you like silk.

"I wondered how long you'd make me wait," Sukuna purred, amusement clear in his tone. "Three days. Admirable restraint for such a curious creature."

"I shouldn't be doing this," you whispered, even as you settled more comfortably on your couch, the finger cradled in your palms.

"Probably not. But here you are anyway." You could practically hear his smirk. "Tell me, what has the little sorcerer been up to? Any interesting curses? Any men foolish enough to court death by pursuing you?"

The possessive edge to that last question made your breath catch. "Why would you care?"

"Because you're mine now." The words were stated with absolute certainty, no room for argument. "The moment you heard my voice, the moment you chose to return to me—you became mine. I don't share what belongs to me."

"I don't belong to anyone," you protested, even as heat curled low in your belly at his commanding tone.

"Don't you?" His voice dropped to a whisper that seemed to ghost across your skin. "Then why does your pulse quicken when I speak? Why do you tremble when I call you mine? Your body knows the truth even if your mind resists."

He was right, and you both knew it. Every word from his lips sent electricity through your veins, made you crave more of his attention, his dark approval.

"I can feel your desire," he continued, his tone growing husky. "It calls to me across the void between us. Tell me, little one—when you touch yourself in the dark of night, whose face do you see?"

Your cheeks burned. "Sukuna—"

"Say my name again. I like how it sounds on your lips."

"This is madness," you breathed, but you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the finger, to sever the connection.

"The best things usually are." His laugh was rich and dark. "Come now, don't be shy. We're connected in ways deeper than flesh. I can sense your every emotion, every desire. There's no shame between us."

And there wasn't. Somehow, impossibly, you felt safer with this ancient curse than you ever had with another person. He saw your darkness and didn't recoil—instead, he embraced it, celebrated it.

"That's it," he murmured as you relaxed into the connection. "Let me in, sweet thing. Let me show you pleasures beyond your imagination."

The night dissolved into whispered conversations, his voice painting pictures of power and passion that left you breathless and wanting. When you finally fell asleep, still clutching the finger, your dreams were full of fire and shadows and a figure with four arms reaching for you with infinite hunger.

Chapter 3: Deeper Into Darkness

The missions became secondary to your nightly conversations with Sukuna. He was brilliant and ancient, with stories that spanned centuries and insights into power that no textbook could teach. More dangerously, he was attentive in ways no one had ever been—listening to your fears, your dreams, your secrets with genuine interest.

"You're different from the others who've tried to communicate with me," he told you one night, his voice unusually thoughtful. "They all wanted something—power, knowledge, immortality. But you... you just want to understand."

"Maybe I want those things too," you admitted.

"No." His certainty was absolute. "You want connection. Truth. Someone who sees the real you beneath the perfect sorcerer facade."

His words hit too close to home. "And you think you're that someone?"

"I know I am." There was no arrogance in his tone, just fact. "Because I am darkness, and I recognize my own. You can pretend with the others, play at being their ideal—but with me, you're free to be exactly who you are."

"And who am I?"

"Magnificent," he said simply. "Powerful. Beautiful. Dangerous in ways that would terrify them if they knew."

Heat bloomed in your chest at his words. No one had ever seen you like this—not as something to be fixed or controlled, but as something to be celebrated.

"I want to touch you," he said suddenly, his voice rough with desire. "I want to worship every inch of your skin, make you scream my name until your voice breaks."

Your breath caught. The raw hunger in his words sent liquid fire through your veins.

"Sukuna..."

"Say it again. Tell me you want it too."

"I do," you whispered, surprised by your own honesty. "I want you to touch me. I want—"

"Careful, little one. Want is a dangerous thing with creatures like me. I might just find a way to give you everything you're craving."

"How?" The question came out breathier than intended.

"There are ways. Rituals. Summoning techniques that could give me form for a night." His voice dropped to a seductive purr. "Would you risk it? Would you risk everything for a taste of what we could have together?"

Every rational thought screamed at you to say no. But rationality had fled long ago, replaced by a hunger that grew stronger with each passing day.

"What would it cost?"

"Everything has a price, sweet thing. But for you... for one night in your arms... I would make it worth any cost."

The temptation was almost overwhelming. To see him, touch him, feel those four arms around you...

"Think about it," he murmured, sensing your internal struggle. "But know this—I grow tired of this half-existence. Soon, I'll find a way to take form with or without your permission. The question is whether you want to be part of that transformation... or a victim of it."

The threat should have terrified you. Instead, it sent a dark thrill through your body that you didn't want to examine too closely.

Chapter 4: The Ritual

The ancient text was hidden in the deepest vaults of the jujutsu archives—a collection of forbidden rituals that predated modern sorcery. It took you weeks to find it, longer still to decode the archaic script.

"Manifestation of the Cursed Spirit," you read aloud during one of your nightly conversations.

"Ah," Sukuna's voice was rich with satisfaction. "You found it. Clever girl."

"This is insane. The risks—"

"Are considerable, yes. But the rewards..." His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Tell me you haven't imagined it. My hands on your skin, my mouth claiming yours, four arms holding you exactly where I want you."

Heat flooded your body at his words. You had imagined it, in vivid detail that left you gasping and desperate.

"The ritual requires a blood sacrifice," he continued, his tone growing serious. "Your blood, freely given. It will bind us together in ways that go beyond the physical."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning there will be no going back. You'll be mine in truth, marked by my power. Other sorcerers will sense it on you—the taint of the King of Curses."

The warning should have deterred you. Instead, the idea of belonging to him completely, of bearing his mark, sent dark pleasure through your veins.

"When?"

"Eager, are we?" His laugh was pure sin. "Tomorrow night. The new moon provides the best conditions for such... intimate magic."

You spent the next day in a haze of anticipation and terror. What you were planning went against everything you'd been taught, violated every principle of jujutsu sorcery. But the alternative—returning to your empty apartment, your hollow existence without his voice—was unthinkable.

That night, you prepared the ritual circle with shaking hands, following the ancient instructions to the letter. Candles flickered at cardinal points, and the air itself seemed to thicken with power.

At the center, you placed Sukuna's finger and knelt beside it, ritual knife gleaming in the candlelight.

"Are you certain?" His voice was gentler than you'd ever heard it. "Once we do this, there's no undoing it. You'll be bound to a monster."

"You're not a monster," you said softly. "Not to me."

"Sweet, naive little thing. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Then show me."

The blade bit into your palm, sending crimson drops onto the finger. The moment your blood touched the ancient digit, power exploded through the room.

Reality twisted, shadows writhing as something vast and terrible began to take shape. The air crackled with cursed energy so intense it made your bones ache.

And then he was there.

Sukuna stood before you in all his terrifying glory—tall and powerfully built, intricate tattoos covering pale skin, four arms that spoke of strength beyond measure. But it was his eyes that captured you—ancient and knowing, burning with an intensity that made your soul sing.

"Hello, little sorcerer," he said, his real voice even more devastating than the mental whisper you'd grown addicted to. "Miss me?"

Before you could answer, he was moving, crossing the space between you with inhuman grace. Four hands cupped your face, tilted your chin up to meet his burning gaze.

"Even more beautiful than I imagined," he murmured, thumbs tracing your cheekbones with surprising gentleness. "And you're trembling. Fear or anticipation?"

"Both," you breathed honestly.

His smile was sharp and pleased. "Perfect."

When he kissed you, it was with the hunger of centuries of imprisonment, the desperate passion of a creature finally touching what he'd claimed as his. You melted against him, overwhelmed by sensation—his taste, his scent, the impossible heat of his skin.

"Mine," he growled against your lips, and you could only nod breathlessly as he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you toward your bedroom with clear intent.

The night that followed rewrote your understanding of pleasure, of power, of what it meant to be truly claimed by something beyond human comprehension...

Chapter 5: Consequences

You woke to sunlight streaming through your windows and an empty bed. For a moment, you wondered if it had all been a dream—until you saw the mark on your inner wrist, a intricate tattoo that definitely hadn't been there before. Sukuna's mark, branded into your skin as surely as he was now branded into your soul.

The finger sat on your nightstand, innocuous in the morning light. But you could feel him there, dormant but present, waiting.

Your phone buzzed. A text from your supervisor requesting your presence at Jujutsu High immediately. Your blood ran cold.

They knew.

The meeting was as brutal as you'd anticipated. Principal Yaga's disappointment cut deeper than his anger, while the other faculty members looked at you with mixtures of fear and disgust. The mark on your wrist burned under their scrutiny, impossible to hide despite your long sleeves.

"You've been compromised," Yaga said finally. "Corrupted by the King of Curses himself. We have no choice but to—"

"But to what?" you interrupted, surprised by the steel in your own voice. "Execute me? For what? Talking to him?"

"You did far more than talk," Nanami observed quietly, his sharp eyes fixed on your wrist. "That mark... it's a binding sigil. You've given him a foothold in this world."

They weren't wrong. You could feel Sukuna stirring in response to the tension, his amusement at your predicament.

"Shall I kill them for you?" his voice whispered in your mind, casual as discussing the weather. "I could manifest again, paint these walls with their blood."

"No," you said aloud, earning confused looks from the faculty.

"Pity. I was looking forward to seeing you covered in the blood of your enemies."

The dark pleasure in his voice sent an unwelcome thrill through you, one that several of the sorcerers seemed to sense.

"She's too far gone," one of them muttered. "The corruption is complete."

"I'm not corrupted," you said firmly. "I'm evolved."

The word hung in the air like a challenge. Because that's what it felt like—not a fall from grace, but an ascension to something more than what you'd been.

"My magnificent, terrible girl," Sukuna purred. "Tell them what you've become."

"I've become someone who isn't afraid of the darkness inside me," you continued, meeting each of their gazes steadily. "Someone who doesn't apologize for wanting power, for embracing what I am instead of pretending to be what you need me to be."

"And what are you?" Yaga asked quietly.

You smiled, feeling Sukuna's approval like warm honey in your veins. "His."

The admission sent several sorcerers reaching for their weapons, but you were already moving, power flooding through you as Sukuna's strength joined with yours. You were out the window and gone before they could react, leaving behind your old life like a snake shedding its skin.

"Where to now, my queen?" Sukuna asked as you ran.

"Somewhere they can't find us," you replied. "Somewhere we can be what we are without apology."

"And what are we?"

You thought of his hands on your skin, his voice in your mind, the way he saw your darkness and called it beautiful.

"Inevitable."

Chapter 6: A New Kingdom

The abandoned shrine in the mountains became your sanctuary. Ancient and forgotten, it had once been dedicated to darker gods than the current world acknowledged. It suited you perfectly.

Sukuna could manifest more easily here, away from the barriers and wards of civilized society. He appeared to you nightly now, solid and real and utterly devoted to exploring every way two beings could claim each other.

"You're different," you told him one evening as you lay tangled together in the aftermath of passion, his four arms creating a perfect cage around you.

"How so?" he asked, one hand stroking your hair while another traced the mark on your wrist.

"Gentler. More... human."

His laugh rumbled through his chest. "Don't mistake possessiveness for gentleness, little one. I'm gentler with you because you're mine to cherish, not break. But make no mistake—I am still the King of Curses."

As if to prove his point, his eyes flashed red in the darkness, power radiating from him in waves that made your bones sing.

"Good," you said, surprising him. "I didn't fall in love with a human man. I fell in love with a monster."

"Love?" The word seemed to catch him off guard.

You'd said it without thinking, but now that it was out there, you realized how true it was. "Yes, love. Is that so strange?"

"No one has ever loved me," he said quietly, vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache. "Feared me, yes. Worshipped me, coveted my power. But loved?"

"Then you've been spending time with the wrong people." You turned in his arms, meeting his burning gaze. "I love your darkness, your power, your complete lack of apology for what you are. I love the way you see me—really see me—and want me anyway."

His kiss was answer enough, desperate and claiming and full of emotions too complex for words.

"They'll come for us," he warned when you finally broke apart. "The jujutsu sorcerers won't let this stand."

"Let them come." The words surprised you with their venom. "I'm done running from what I am. If they want a monster, I'll give them one."

His smile was sharp and proud. "That's my queen."

The attack came three days later—a coordinated strike by some of the most powerful sorcerers in Japan. They surrounded the shrine at dawn, convinced they were cornering desperate fugitives.

They were wrong.

You and Sukuna fought as one being, your power flowing together in perfect harmony. Where you were precision and grace, he was raw destruction. Where he was overwhelming force, you were surgical strikes that found every weakness.

It was beautiful and terrible and everything you'd never known you wanted.

When the dust settled, your enemies lay broken around you, and you stood in Sukuna's four-armed embrace with blood on your hands and victory singing in your veins.

"This is what we are," he murmured against your ear as you surveyed the destruction. "This is what we were always meant to be."

"Monsters?" you asked.

"Kings," he corrected. "And it's time the world remembered what that means."

Chapter 7: The New Order

The jujutsu world reeled from the defeat of their strike team. For the first time in centuries, Sukuna walked free, and he was not alone. The stories spread like wildfire—the sorcerer who had fallen to darkness, who now stood as the King of Curses' queen.

Some called you traitor. Others, cautionary tale. But in the shadows, in the spaces between worlds where cursed spirits gathered, they called you something else entirely.

Liberation.

"You've started something," Sukuna observed as reports reached you of cursed spirits growing bolder, of the careful balance between the human and curse worlds beginning to shift. "My queen's revolution."

You stood together on the balcony of your new stronghold—a fortress built from the bones of your enemies and the fear of those wise enough not to challenge you. The view stretched for miles, encompassing territory that was now unquestionably yours.

"Good," you said simply. "The old ways were broken anyway. Built on lies about what power should look like, about who deserves to wield it."

His hands settled on your shoulders, solid and warm and possessive. "And what does power look like?"

"Like this." You leaned back against his chest, feeling his strength, his devotion, his absolute certainty that you belonged exactly where you were. "Like choosing what we want and taking it without apology."

"Even if what we want is considered monstrous?"

"Especially then." You turned in his arms, meeting his burning gaze with your own steady one. "I'd rather be a monster who's free than a saint in a cage."

His kiss was fierce with approval, with pride, with the kind of love that rewrote the fundamental laws of what was possible.

"My perfect, terrible queen," he murmured against your lips. "What shall we conquer next?"

The question hung between you, full of dark promise. The world below spread out like a chess board, waiting for your next move. In the distance, you could sense the fear of those who still opposed you, the desperate scrambling as they tried to figure out how to fight an enemy who had embraced everything they taught people to fear.

"Everything," you said finally, and felt his smile against your skin.

After all, what was the point of being monsters if you didn't act like it?

The age of kings had returned, and you intended to rule it with the man who had shown you the beauty in darkness, the power in embracing what you truly were.

Let them call you monster. You wore the title like a crown.

Epilogue: Forever Bound

Years passed. The world adapted, as it always did, to new realities. The careful separation between human and curse worlds blurred and shifted, creating something unprecedented—a kingdom where power mattered more than origin, where strength was respected regardless of its source.

You ruled it all from your throne beside Sukuna's, his queen in truth as well as name. The mark on your wrist had spread over time, intricate tattoos now covering half your body in patterns that matched his own—visible proof of your complete transformation.

"Any regrets?" he asked you one evening as you watched the sunset from your palace, the question casual but the attention behind it absolute.

You considered it seriously, as you always did his questions. The woman you'd been—the dutiful sorcerer, the people-pleaser, the one who'd hidden her darkness behind acceptable facades—felt like a stranger now.

"Only one," you said finally.

His eyebrow arched in question.

"That it took me so long to find you."

His laugh was rich and satisfied, the sound of a creature who had claimed everything he'd ever wanted and had no intention of letting it go.

"Patience, my love," he murmured, pulling you closer with all four arms, surrounding you completely in his strength and warmth and absolute devotion. "We have eternity to make up for lost time."

"Promise?"

"I promise you forever," he said solemnly, and sealed the vow with a kiss that tasted like power and passion and the kind of love that burned away everything else.

In the end, you thought as you lost yourself in his embrace, some monsters were worth becoming.

And some loves were worth damning yourself for.

The End