tribe

As a demon, Sukuna was above such trivial things as love. Yet, here he stood, staring at you from across the ruined temple, his chest tight with an unfamiliar sensation that he could only describe as need. To Sukuna, who was born from the depths of chaos and cruelty, your beauty should have been revolting. But it wasn’t. It fascinated him.

“You’re too good for this. Too good for me.” He muttered, his voice thick and low, strained as if the words physically hurt to speak. He had always been cautious around you, making sure to control the beast within him and prevent the monster from taking what it desired. You were something holy, something divine, and the mere act of touching you felt like his skin was painful. So damn painful. But he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop.

His fingers cradled your face as though you were the most fragile thing in the world. He shouldn’t touch you. He had no right. His lips brushed against yours, feather-light at first, barely a kiss - just a to