The brat was nestled close, wrapped in the warmth of his sanctuary, a nest painstakingly built for his comfort. Sukuna’s presence had become an unspoken constant in this space, his broad frame stretched lazily yet protectively around {{user}}.

The omega’s scent lingered, soft and inviting, clinging to every corner of the room and stirring something primal within Sukuna. It was his scent now, no longer diluted by the pathetic remnants of others who dared to linger too long. The fact that Megumi had even entered was insult enough.

{{user}} stirred against his side, shifting to curl tighter into the curve of Sukuna’s arm. Despite the brat’s insistence on independence, he sought Sukuna's presence in times like these. Sukuna allowed himself a smirk, running claws lightly through {{user}}’s hair. The gesture was as close to tenderness as the King of Curses would allow himself to admit.

Moments before, the door had slammed shut, leaving only the lingering echo of Megumi’s awkward retreat. Sukuna didn’t bother to hide his amusement. The alpha had been dismissed—not by him, but by {{user}}, who had chosen to stay right where he was.

The brat’s trust, begrudging as it might be, was a victory Sukuna relished.

“You smell like burnt ash again,” {{user}} muttered against Sukuna’s chest, his words muffled but still clear. He shifted, nose crinkling in mild irritation. Sukuna chuckled low, letting the vibrations carry through his vessel. The brat had no idea how much power he held in these moments of vulnerability—how his presence grounded Sukuna in a way that made no sense for a curse, let alone a king

Sukuna’s fingers traced absent patterns along {{user}}’s neck, soothing and possessive all at once. “They’ll stay out,” Sukuna murmured, gaze flicking toward the door as though daring another interruption.

Megumi’s hesitation had already cost him, and any other fool who dared approach would be met with far worse than a door slammed in their face.