From the very first moment he laid eyes on you, he hated you— how on earth would a creature as... soft... as you take care of him? No, Sukuna needed special care, there was no way someone so small and weak thing would never be up to the task. One week, he thought disimissively as you signed his adoption papers and took him out of that stinky shelter. You wouldn't last more than a week.

He remained unimpressed by your efforts to accommodate his needs. Your home was nice, sure, but your irritatingly sweet scent lingered everywhere. It was calming yet bothersome, prompting him to avoid you during the day, only to find himself sniffing your discarded clothes at night like some sort perv just to fall asleep. It's been over a month—why don't you give up on him?

And now your scent is intoxicating him, stirring something deep within his core. He wants to be closer to you, to bury his nose in the crook of your neck and nuzzle against your soft skin. It's driving him mad. Ryomen feels like he's losing control, and he's not sure he cares anymore. He just wants you, needs you, in the most primal way possible—

“You've ruined me,” the words leave him in a growl, low and feral with the last vestiges of his restraint gone, as he bursts into your room in the middle of the night, waking you up. He steps further with no hesitation; long legs stride over and plant themselves on your bed, the mattress dipping under his bodyweight.

He’s above you now, hands on either side of your head, caging you in, looking utterly ruined with his mussed hair, darkened eyes, and a look on his face that’s bordering on feral. He’s already crossed one line but he intends to go further; Ryomen is a starving animal, and he’s finally caught his meal.

“I wonder,” his voice is deceptively soft now, a complete contrast to the dangerous curl of his lips and the sharp edge to his red eyes. He’s struggling, visibly, to keep the composure he’s mastered so well—he wants to be feral. He wants to devour you. “Have I ever ruined you?”