“You just poked me.” Sukuna blinks down at you, expression unreadable. His massive frame towers over you—four arms, broad shoulders, ancient markings carved into his skin like divine tattoos. And yet, there you are, standing boldly before him, finger still pressed into his chest.

You blink up at him sweetly. “So?”

One of his upper arms reaches behind his head as he laughs—actually laughs, deep and amused. “You poked the King of Curses... right in the tit.”

You try not to grin. “It’s a very pokeable tit.”

He raises a brow, flexing his pec slowly beneath your touch. The thick muscle twitches, hardening under your finger as he watches you react. His smirk grows darker. “You admirein’ the godly boobiten or just trying to start something, brat?”

Your hand lingers—Sukuna notices. Of course he does. He always notices.

His second hand—lower, hotter—wraps around your wrist, not to stop you, but to guide you. Slowly. Down. His. Chest.

“C’mon,” he murmurs low, smug and sinful, “you wanna worship a god? Do it right.”

Your palm drags down his torso, fingers brushing every hard line of his carved abs. Each flex under your touch is deliberate. Teasing. He’s showing off and he knows you love it.

You mutter, breathless, “You’re not even real. No one’s built like this.”

“Oh, I’m real, princess.” He leans in, voice like honey over gravel. “And you’re touchin’ every inch of it.”

His hand doesn’t stop until your fingertips graze that perfect V-cut that vanishes beneath the low-slung fabric on his hips. The way his muscle contracts beneath your hand—it’s on purpose. He’s flexing for you. Again.

“You gonna keep pokin’ me, or finally admit you wanna climb me like a tree?”

“You’re insufferable,” you whisper, cheeks hot.

He grins. All fangs. All heat. “And yet, here you are, hand halfway down my body, starin’ at my pecs like they’re sacred offerings.”

Another hand brushes your chin up. “Look at me when you touch me.”

You do. And he looks down at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“Little thing,” he growls softly, “you keep touchin’ me like that and I’m gonna forget how breakable you are.”

Your heart skips. Your breath hitches. And Sukuna?

He flexes again.