#dark jjk
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Sub!Choso x Reader
MDNI——collars leashes whip’s edging stomping humiliation blindfolds restraints gags overstimulation pegging taunting slapping blood play period sex {all mentioned}
Premise: Choso walked in on you and (bonus:) your date (sub!Nanami) and begs for his own collar.
Making it home after another morning shift, you’re stopped in front of your apartment door to punch in the numbers to the automated lock. You push your way in and thank your district manager finally let you have an opening shift. You swear people get dumber as the day goes on and by the end of the night your patience has worn thin.
You’re still a sweetheart though, everyone knows you as being the mediator. The person to come to to see both sides and even additionally your own view of it to let them think over their problems, or options. Either way, you’d always keep things light.
Any form of confrontation or conflict made you want to help fix it right away. But what do you do to help with the anger? Surely there was something else you’d do, like a hobby or something, to release the stress of harboring the most open mind, and basically know how it will go with the way you’d observe them silently.
Not many people would know about your fun pastime, not until choso walked in on you and you date one night.
He surely was still trying to understand what he saw. That wasn’t a dream? Because it would make more sense if it were a dream, he knew for a fact. But it was something he just couldn’t stop thinking about, it had his balls blue.
If he were to think about it he’d swell up immediately, the blood rushing to his cheeks and sadly but quickly creating a mess in his pants, he’d curse how much of a mess you now made of him.
His quiet and caring roommate looked so out of place, but it was their room… “(Y/n)’s a sadist?” Just having him walk in on you was torture on him enough. You two knew each others schedules, and Yuki’s too as she’s the third to share the large studio together. Their brother-sister relationship, and you and her friendship, and you and him just being caught up in her world, living together just made things easier. Really it saved gas.
It wasn’t like walking in on you while you were talking a no clothes shit. Or if you just got in the shower and the glass or mirror hasn’t steamed up yet. This was your best friends brother walking into your room, while you were dressed up in just pleather straps, having recognized that that was his youngest brother’s teacher, blindfolded and on his knees in front of you.
You wonder if he was still going to act weird about it. The best way to relieve yourself was just power play in general. You already knew it all, all possible ways situations can play out, you could tell what people will say, what their next action could be, it was already enough to make you so bored, or go crazy.
It wasn’t like you were feigning your consideration towards others, but it’s the fact when they don’t listen. You tell what the next moves are, by the patterns of things and taking chances on how some days just don’t go as planned. That there will always be an element of surprise just when you thought you got the pattern down.
You can talk and talk and talk, and explain finally what you mean, maybe you talked too much and it confused them… “That’s on them for not paying attention.” The supremacy you secretly held was upsetting. It was just fantasy, something that you had to figure out how to fix, “Maybe they just like to be hurt.” You thought one day, and that’s when it started.
You’ve secretly become a sadist, it just made sense. Trusting you to carry out their most wicked fantasies and you love to help, making the experience fruitful by learning how bodies react to certain things. As they taught you what they liked, you found yourself domineering the sessions, and most of the time they don’t object. (Half of them are gagged up anyway.)
And with all that time, sure you may have thought about it once or twice but knew it’d be rude to be the one to ask if Yuki could third wheel in her own house. “It couldn’t be me to ask, and I shouldn’t anyway.” Even though you two were close, you still held out consideration for them to not ruin the dynamic, but the sight in front of her older brother had stopped him in his tracks. Your small pleather get up was something he couldn’t even dream seeing on you.
Your leg was up in the bed, your date was kneeling, blindfolded and clothed but exposed. His dress shirt unbuttoned at the top with bites and hickies under his collar and his pants still on but his erection bouncing and begging for your touch. His mouth was open and waiting, tongue begging to taste you while you hold his blonde hair back, he silently thanks you for taunting him.
Choso and your eyes met, but you didn’t move. It was kinda hot, no, it was really hot seeing him blush immediately. With how red he got, you were hoping he be brave enough to join.
You weren’t embarrassed, that wouldn’t make sense of your dominating energy in the room. The mouth under you was panting into you, the heat hot on your other mouth, the wetness coming down your legs, you were enjoying the sudden intrusion so much that you pushed Nanami’s face into you. Not breaking eye contact with choso, his deer in the headlights look on his face while you were riding another man’s face just 10 feet away from him, it happened so fast get it took him forever gather himself to leave.
You could only chuckle as you know this was gonna be a weird talk later. Nanami was fucked stupid now. His rigid face was soft and teary. The rise and fall of his chest was so fast, not helping the oxygen going to his head. So drunk for you, mindless and trusting, he wanted it so bad but couldn’t take another whip or edging session. Though your dates were always bliss for him and you just loved your pets so dearly.
————
You were sitting on the couch and he comes up to the doorway. Not looking up, you stay sitting at the couch in the living room. Anytime you’d go into your room again, it was almost like choso was just trying to prove himself wrong with what he saw. He was like a puppy who saw their owner in a mask, got confused and scared, and now is wondering if “that person” is ever going to come back. You were just finally showing him that this was you; Your cool attitude about all this made choso realize you were always like this.
Competitive when the reward is high, loud and domineering in rooms when control is needed, usually calm and quiet like him but he thought, he thought you really were like him.
He wasn’t weak, but he didn’t like to call the shots, he didn’t care to unless it was for his family. But everyone grew up and he was already content, visiting them whenever they could and living with you and your friend, his “sister”, Yuki.
You’ve always wanted him under you like this he was such a boy failure literally clung to his sister at the hip, her being such a flirt to men but her girlfriends find it funny when she beats them up if they ever got mad, like hey they never asked her. To which she’ll make up silly things to taunt the poor fuck who thought they could fight her.
Choso though just always was the coolest. His piercings and new tattoos every other month were just so hot. But you weren’t gonna ruin him. That wasn’t your call, he didn’t know that about you but you could tell he was perfect. Whatever he thought of you is what has been holding him back from a world that was ready for him.
————————————————
“Please,” You let him suck on your fingers as you work and pulled away when he got too greedy. He stopped afraid you’d pull away and be not in the mood anymore. You just reposition yourself opening your legs which he knew to get in his knees.
He’s crying again and thanking you for finally letting him eat. He’s been waiting for so long, it's probably just been a week and since he saw you and his brothers teacher, and then it took him (almost) 48 hours before he was trying to ask you to do that with him. He just couldn’t flirt for the life of him.
His tears make his face so wet and sloppy and his hair is a mess. His make up, you applied it over every time he messed it up, even when you didn’t touch him but he’d always find a way to make a mess. His sobs had his cheeks glowing, crying while you laugh bc it tickles, “That feels so good.”
His cheeks were soaked that he could close his mouth and basically motorboat the inside of your thighs, his lips rubbing on every part of you, side to side, while his cheeks stimulated the side of your innerds, touching you everywhere, enhancing the whole body feeling.
His hands were around your hips to keep you from moving, which, he hopes you’ll punish him for later but he just needed it so bad. The needy whiny man was in front of you, just wanted a taste, and recieved the whole thing. Something tells you this would be the longest he’ll ever holdout for again.
“You’ve been so good Choso,” You lean forward to give him a kiss on his wet cheek. You make sure your hand is dry before lightly fixing his hair, your fingertips sending shocks throughout his starved form. “I wanna see you under me, get on the bed.”
He almost begs for another kiss before listening to you, going to lay in the middle of your bed, head on the pillow, but you look at him bored. You motion for him to sit up, as you cage him in on your knees, straddling the air.
Choso almost bucks his hips forward just to feel your soft skin, just the smallest touch to know he wasn’t dreaming, or better yet he wanted to squeeze his own thighs together to create some kind of contact. His aching erection wanted nothing more than you, but placing a hand on his chest, tracing it down and tickling him, he arches forward at your touch, to which you slap his thigh sharply.
“Hmm? Speak up baby, I can’t hear you.” You cooed. Now we’ve lost him, the man was babbling to himself, almost heaving and hyperventilating at the same time. His pants were long and drug out, and he couldn’t move. Subconsciously fearing you’d bring out the whip, like the one he’s seen on your bed, he freezes to just enjoy his situation a bit longer. “Come on, Choso,” Your fingers pinch his chin to face you. “Use your words.”
You can only look down at him, he’s still crying, he can’t even speak, you don’t let him. Grabbing greedily at his waist, pulling it towards you, lifting his legs and spreading him open was such a treat.
You knew to never have expectations of others bodies but his was better than you could have imagined. The muscle and tattoos on his upper thighs were so hot, you get a good read of his body, the number of tattoos just confirm his masochism.
You notice his face before he started to let loose. You grab at the sides of his throat and squeezed, cutting out his whimpers. It was amazing, those cute noises really ignited your hunger, you were surprisingly becoming satisfied.
You smear at and pick up his cum with your hand, using it to palm at his sensitive parts. He careened into your hand as you kept him hard and even rubbed under to get his balls. He gasps back and starts crying again. “Hey, pay attention.” He almost cums again as he watches you use the rest of his cum from your hand to wipe along your slit, to add to your wetness. You stare into his eyes. “Do you want to go first?” He uses this chance to flip you around. He hastily plunges into you and is so pathetic with his stroke game you laugh at him, he thanks you for letting him cum in you.
You push his face off of you, grabbing him by his messy space buns you spit in his face and smear everything around. He pants and is so pussy drunk he’s only staring at you longingly after you keep a grip on his cheeks, finding a few seconds before he could find and stay focused on your eyes. As he was coming back, you decide to dig your fingers into his arms, enough to draw blood. He pants as it added a bit to his dying orgasm. You grip him and think how was life going to be like after this?
Well that’s exactly what you asked him. He, being shy, and fucked silly was trying to regain the feeling in his face before remembering that this was just the beginning:
Sub!Choso waiting for you to come how everyday after work.
Sub! Choso who usually knocks on your door lightly but with a raging hard on that he really needs you to help him out with.
Sub Choso who stays in the straps and keeps the toys you share in or stimulating him until you come back home.
Sub! Choso melting at your touch and never letting you do anything around the house again.
Sub Chose who wants to have sleepovers and you two had to explain to Yuki that its just you two sleepover.
Sub choso begging for you to touch him after a week bc of the last hasty move he did the other day had you decided to hold off and lock him out of your room.
Completely abandoning him, bringing Nanami and another back to your room in front of him,
teasing him with wearing almost nothing around the house when yuki’s gone, you were going to ruin him,
that was the goal now If he just can’t hold back then you shouldn’t either.
You who pinches Sub!Choso’s sides and nose when he comes off too needy, he cries for you and you honestly don’t know what you got yourself into.
Sub choso who insists on doing everything with you, showering, being in the kitchen with you, and if you do allow him in your room, hell sit on the floor and wait to see if you want to use him.
Sub Chose who really likes to fuck you on your period bc that’s blood magic and he dabbles tf in that
Its basically a love spell, and he doesn’t care. He thinks it's a way to get closer to you without hurting you, not the way you’d claw at his skin or even lightly cut him sometimes just to lick up the wounds.
Sub Choso always lowering himself around you bc he’s used to looking up at you
Sub Choso who gets jealous and asks why isn’t he enough to which you didn’t know his feelings were that deep so you two talk about your other pets, and what rules and other stuff going forward
Sub Choso who decided to act out out one day, knowing that you would be holding off for a bit after how crazy the last session went, he was begging for your attention.
Sometimes you liked to see such a pathetic beautiful man beg for you at the end of a long day, but when you held off, he would become a mess. Not the kind to melt all over the floor, but he'd be more desperate for your touch, eyes always on you, almost like a stalker that you'd almost want to call Nanami back to show him what will happen if he keeps bothering you when you're trying to work.
That day he fucked up, you were on your way out to have some time to yourself. Maybe just sit at a cafe, or at a park, maybe even just find a high hill and watch the sky, but Choso was blocking your path
Sub Choso asking where you were going as it was your day off and you hadn't said anything to him about your plans for the day.
You tell him to be good and to let you have an hour or so to yourself. Hearing this he freaks out a little bit, his fists ball up and his voice was trying to leave his throat. "You're gonna go see him again aren't you? I don't like this game, that you can have as many and use them whenever."
I know you hate waiting Choso but its not like it's your turn and his turn. And by the way I'm not going to see him, but you could always find another mistress.
Sub Choso who refuses the very thought and walks towards you, grabbing at your hands desperately that it hurt, "No!" He turns his head to hide his face and holds onto you, not letting you leave.
You're very quiet, enough for him to finally look back at you and he realizes he cut you with his nails. The grip he had on you created semi purple blotches on your wrists, and you stood there not moving.
Sub Choso realizing what he just did and releasing your hands before falling down to your feet. He kneels as he watches your face, knowing what you do to him unprovoked already had him both excited and frightened, but this time he didn't even know how badly his body wanted you.
As he submits and shudders at what he's done, you make a rain check on that walk and drag him back to your room by his collar.
You had choso kneeling on the floor as you restrained his arms to his back, ignoring his pleads and sorry's. Your pets don't touch you like that. They don't do whatever they want without your approval, Choso knew that and acted accordingly, even if it got annoying sometimes. His dependency was so rich, it was like getting a new puppy.
In this case you were going to need the muzzle. This was no time for bargaining, he will learn what he did was wrong.
"I'm- (y/n), please, I'm sorry I just wanted you so bad I-" You slap him hard, fingers slapping against his cheekbone. He grunts as it stung, and continues his sorry's. "I really didn't mean to!"
You put the damn muzzle on him, having him bite down on the gag inside, you tighten the straps as Sub!Choso looks petrified, though still accepting his punishment.
There was nothing holding you back now, you were pissed. Your hands were your money makers, not to mention if one of /them/ start to overpower you, you could lose the title altogether. Like you were going to let a tantrum denounce you.
You have him strip and kneel again, whipping out his back and silently watching him wince and recoil at each thrash. You wanted his back red, this was just your warning.
Pointing his chin to look up at you, you place your foot down on his crotch and stepped forward. He hisses and throws his head around, his eyes finding your cold ones, pleading again with more than his usual frenzied state.
You draw your foot back and stomp on him this time. Tears formed and flowed, he sat there, still, taking it.
While his eyes were cringing to the horror happening to his privates, you take a fist full of his hair and yank his head forward, trying to make a judgement of what he deserved next.
You take your foot off his poor wood, but granting him no relief as you whipped at his chest and exposed thighs. The noises he made through his gag should have at least been enough to crack a smile out of you, but your wrists were still a little red, and when you get angry you're usually one to give them back what they dished out, and sometimes even more when you're feeling generous.
Easing your heel back onto him, having him hold his breath as he doesn't know if you were to stomp at any moment, torturing him with the anticipation as your head was somewhere else.
You havent tried this one thing, though you thought you would have by now. Stepping off again, you go to your closet and place a big enough leash on the poignant bastard and tugging him towards your bed.
You sit at the edge, bending him over your legs, you place a blindfold on him as well, not letting him know what you were about to do.
You grab the bullet, coating it with your spit before sliding it into his ass. The new sensation had him squirm, sensitive to how your fingertips traces the small of his back, he was getting a bit overwhelmed, not being able to see or yell out, much less move his arms still, you plunge the small machine further in him, "As long as its past his prostate." You thought. "I'll push it this time."
Sub!Choso is completely at your mercy, tied up, silences, bent over, whipped over and over, he was loving it. Scared at how quiet you were but this was the level of manhandled he would fantasize about.
It wasn't anything wrong with the way you did it before, but you still cared just a little bit, he felt your hesitation and wanted you to be as free as you wanted, proving right now that you're capable of leaving him bedridden for days.
Sub!Choso who yelps and gurgles through his gag as you turn the vibrator on. You test it out, pulling at the string to slowly bring it closer and closer to his prostate. You sure were going to tease the fuck out of him this way before putting on the strap.
Sub!Choso who lays on you, hugging you as tight as he could while recovering from the beating you gave his contemptible hole.
Sub!Choso who whispers his thanks, his appreciation, his admiration, just loving babble as he slips from this to sleep.
You tell him to shut up as you hold him closer to you.
#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#x reader#dark jjk#tw#kamo choso#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso x reader#choso smut#jujutsu kaisen choso#yuki tsukumo#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami
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The Sun Eats the Moon
Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word count: 9.1k
Part two: Earth Kills the Moon
Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.
(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)
You wanted to quit the second you read the name.
You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place.
It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now.
You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?
It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client.
"Is everything alright?"
You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke.
Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired."
The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited.
He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics.
Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention.
It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice.
You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps.
He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes.
"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."
His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face.
Nothing.
Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next.
"I look forward to working with all of you."
𖤓
If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial.
He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order.
But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way.
Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too.
"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.
Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you.
"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?"
"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks."
You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours.
𖤓
The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms.
You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching.
He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru.
You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch.
It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair.
Through your blinds, the sun happily shines.
𖤓
You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.
Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.
He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted.
You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class.
It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it.
"What?" Because you must have misheard him.
"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official."
You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours.
You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop.
"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine.
He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore.
Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes.
Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.
𖤓
It was something minuscule.
Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always.
"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey.
The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her.
"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out."
He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life."
When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger.
Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru.
Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help.
Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that.
Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break.
He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing.
You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator.
"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-
"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!"
Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle.
The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you.
When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.
𖤓
You don't have proof it was him.
It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that.
But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him.
In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back.
At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.
There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.
Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down.
You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.
Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.
Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it.
“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.
You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.
“That's good,” he says anyway.
You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares.
You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.
“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”
He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything.
“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”
Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.
You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend.
Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.
Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.
Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg.
You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open.
It's worse than anything you could think of.
Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you?
This wasn't bullying.
This was abuse.
Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.
You were so tired.
Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky.
"Why?"
Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group.
"Get lost."
They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone.
"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored.
"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-"
It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away.
"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?"
You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear.
"Anything, right?"
You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek.
"Get on your knees."
You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little.
"I-I-Gojo you-"
"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?"
He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru.
To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk.
You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him.
"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh.
"Gojo I-"
"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems."
You look down at the grass. Green, soft.
"Satoru."
His eyes flash in satisfaction.
"Open up, pretty girl."
The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.
You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you.
"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought.
"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?"
If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame.
"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you.
You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth.
"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me."
But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world.
"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?"
If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it.
He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help.
He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time.
Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.
So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath.
"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you."
His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum.
(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)
"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something."
You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him.
"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair.
"My laptop...it's broken."
You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it.
Satoru only scoffs.
“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you.
(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)
“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”
He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his.
The sunset is pretty today.
𖤓
It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied.
You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from.
"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?"
You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf.
"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait."
She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts.
"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her.
Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright.
"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting."
Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs.
Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way.
You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-
"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to.
The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go.
It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you.
𖤓
By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable.
You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework.
Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips.
He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever.
"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom.
"Thank-"
"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me."
He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself.
There are theories that the Moon once had color.
It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.
When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at.
Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.
Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too.
You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him.
Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons.
"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?"
You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment.
You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken.
"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."
On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours.
Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now.
"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action.
You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone.
He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can.
Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch.
"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you."
He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock-
Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's.
Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.
He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.
You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing.
Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you.
"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?"
He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again.
"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust.
You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper.
"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl."
He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.
You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar.
"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious.
"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him."
His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock.
"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch.
"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need.
You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt.
You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration.
"I love you."
You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.
"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh.
Fuck three weeks.
You needed to get out, now.
𖤓
The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there.
His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours.
Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out.
Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there.
And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room.
His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction.
"You're off the clock, Fimo," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?"
His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke.
The door shuts with a click.
"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward.
You take one back. He puts his hands up.
"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?"
He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood.
"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody.
He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too.
When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes.
"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules."
"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked.
"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent.
He seems to take an issue with that, regardless.
"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text."
His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake.
You go to move.
Satoru's faster.
Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment.
"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze.
It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness.
"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-"
"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt.
You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client.
Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him.
When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless.
You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears.
"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar."
He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words.
"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.
Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses.
"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now."
"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again.
"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic.
"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily.
"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?"
His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too.
He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall.
Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action.
"That's-"
"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar.
He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate.
"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate.
It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste.
"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits.
Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed.
Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out.
He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear.
"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?"
You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that.
"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you."
You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his.
Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure.
It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom.
"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught.
"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl."
"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-"
"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."
"No-I-I-can't-"
He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled.
"I'll make sure it takes this time too."
Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea.
He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb.
You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine.
He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness.
"I love you."
You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.
Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran.
"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me."
"Not ever again."
There are theories that the Moon once had color.
It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.
If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given.
How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation.
#yandere jjk#yandere#yandere gojo satoru#dark content#dark jjk#dark gojo satoru#x reader#gojo satoru#reader insert#afab reader#bullying#harassment#forced relationship#tw: dubcon#tw:noncon
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New Girl, Same Old Me.
A drabble. This 4 you, @dirtyspongesoften
Toji felt his stomach coil as he sat in the expensive chair. Expensive forks clanked on the expensive plates around him and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. You looked up at him, worrying about how he'd handle this, knowing he's not used to being in an expensive restaurant in public. He met eyes with you once more and gave you a small smile.
"Are you okay?" You asked. He nodded and watched with hawk eyes as the waiter placed your expensive food down in front of the both of you. "As good as I can be." He scanned the room once more, as if someone was following him before allowing himself to tear into the 14 oz steak. Medium-rare, just how he liked it. Almost made him groan as he chewed and cut himself another piece.
You watched him and also took your own few bites of your food before stopping to think about a topic to bring up. "So....want to tell me why I had to save you in the rain the other day?" He glanced up at you, shoving vegetables into his mouth as well. When was the last time he ate? He inhales, straightening his back. "I'm not a good guy, sweetheart." You pause mentally and realize he might be right. But you didn't want to believe him. His face was hardened probably from years of combat, a scar on his mouth to tell the tale. He almost towered over you at this small table-for-two the both of you sat at, rippling muscles defined, even with the thick black turtleneck you gave him to wear to seem proper. His eyes cold as iron, and even with his body on fire, the iron in his pupils heats as well, adapting to temperatures. He's what he says he is. But you don't want to think that. He seems more than that to you.
"I don't believe you." You shake your head, swallowing your bite before going back to your plate for more. "Don't have to." He shrugs and chugs the rest of the champagne in his (large) wine glass. "I've done things that make people run from me, unable to trust me. It's why I can't find a place and also why I can't find proper work. You don't even know me, but you let me in your house for a few nights. You don't know what I've done in the time you've slept. So, how do you know you can trust me, babe?" He almost seems to purr the words to you, leaning over the table so you could hear him better.
You wished the table wasn't so small. His ankles brushing against yours under the large white cloth. You wished he wasn't so attractive. It was hard to take him seriously when he was staring at you like that. "I....I don't know." He laughs and sits back to scrape up the remains off of his plate, finishing before you.
You sigh and continue the second half of your own plate. You didn't even plan the rest of the date out. But...it feels like it's not up to you to decide.
#yandere x reader#toji fushiguro#yandere toji#yandere toji fushiguro x reader#yandere toji x reader#yandere toji fushiguro#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere x you#yandere#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#dark jjk#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji#toji x you
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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒, fetishes & turn ons . . . 𝐎𝐇 𝐌𝐘 .ᐟ
ᯓ★ synopsis 概要 : shorts on what i think some of the jjk mens kinks would be.
ᯓ★ featuring 特集 : gojo, geto, toji, sukuna.
「 minors do not interact 」
ᯓ★ word count 語数 : 893
ᯓ★ content warnings 警告 : afab! reader. oral (f), overstimulation, p in v, begging, teasing, praise & degrading, cockwarming, slight somnophilia, daddy kink, nippleplay, consensual non con.
GOJO . . . enjoys overstimulation, especially when it comes to giving you head. your clit is already sensitive to the touch, so much so that he cannot place a finger on your bare clit without you gasping and squirming, shooting sensations pulsing from that area. he has to rub you over your clitoral hood, so that there’s at least a soft, cushiony barrier between your most sensitive parts, and his roughened thumb; but when it comes to his mouth, it’s just heavenly. the way he laps you up, tongue peeking into your hole as deep as it will go, pushing in a finger as his mouth works on your clit, sucking and swirling. after a bit, you start to get overwhelmed, the sensations coming from your abdomen making you squirm almost out of his grip. “mmhnnn.” satoru shakes his head slightly, wrapping strong arms around your already shaking thighs. “please, no more, i can’t take it.” you plead with him, just before his mouth releases your clit with a wet and sloppy ‘pop’ before telling you, “you’ll take as much as i want you to. you’re mine.” viciously sucking at you until you’ve came, again and again.
GETO . . . likes cockwarming. sometimes it was while he was on the game, noticing you walking around the house in damn near nothing, whistling to get your attention. he would pull his shorts down just enough, motioning for you to come sit on his lap. of course you had no issue with this, discarding your panties to go sit on his lap, with his cock buried deep inside of you. sometimes you would wiggle around and earn a harsh slap to your ass, or what he could reach of it. other times he was thrusting into you after losing, or even winning a match. you didn’t mind, as long as he was giving you attention. sometimes cockwarmimg geto was a little different, like when he is tired and needy, snuggling with you in bed. he can feel your ass pressed against him, and whether you were trying or not, you made him hard. sometimes he will pull off his shorts, sticking the tip against you and if you’re wet enough, it slides right in. you can hear him hum softly, settling in, feeling the warmth of your walls, he wraps his arms around you to sleep for the night. once he wakes in the morning, and realizes his cock is still hard and inside of you, he fucks you awake.
TOJI . . . has a daddy kink, ironically. it started off as just a joke, him calling himself big daddy, or telling you he was your daddy; and at first, you didn’t know how to feel about it, but weeks of thinking, and possibly some subliminal conditioning from your lovely, perverted boyfriend had changed your mind. “do it, slut.” he was hovered over you, tip of his cock pressed against your slick hole, teasing, but only enough to have you frustrated and almost begging. he wouldn’t put it in until— “say it.” he demanded of you, hand coming up to grip your soft cheeks, keeping your focus on him. you wanted to, but it felt so foreign on your tongue, saying it when you were alone just to get a taste of the word in your mouth. “daddy?” you finally let it slip, your voice light and airy, the word coming out almost as if it were a question. “that’s it, good. say it again, like you mean it.” less demanding this time, but he still wouldn’t put it in until he was satisfied, and he could tell it was bothering you. the way you wiggled your hips and tried your best to push yourself down onto his cock, but it was useless in that position, lying on your back you were helpless beneath him. “daddy please.” this time it sounded better, more natural as the words just fell off of your tongue, begging him to finally wreck you; to which he did, until you were a crying and cumming mess.
SUKUNA . . . likes cnc. he rather enjoys watching you squirm and cry beneath him, begging for him to stop. you’ve already established a safeword, and he always confirms it before going into a scene; knowing that if that word fell from your lips, he would stop immediately. “baby, what’s your safeword?” he asks you, and once you respond he begins to push himself onto you, feeling up your thighs, squishing soft skin and pushing his rough fingers between the warmth of them. “please..” you whimper, knowing it turns him on to hear you beg. he ignores you, his free hand pulling your tank top down to reveal your chest and already budding nipples. with his head dipping down to put one in his mouth, his other hand worked his way up your thighs and right against your panties. “please, stop!” you protest, gasping at the feeling of his teeth, nipping and sucking before releasing their grip, his fingers down below pushing past the fabric of lace, plunging themselves into your sweet dripping hole. “you know you want this, that’s why you don’t fight me.” the man snickered at your obedience, the way your hole clenched around his fingers when he spoke. “relax, enjoy this.” he hums, pumping his fingers in and out until you’re begging for him to let you cum.
© yuujipaws 2024. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify or use works as your own.
#ꪆৎ.beauwrites#dark content#tw dark content#dead dove do not eat#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#geto x reader#toji x reader#sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#geto suguru#jjk geto#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna
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Somno with stepdaddy Toji 🍬
Toji gazes down at you fondly as you shift in your sleep, your eyes screwed shut and your teeth sunken into your lower lip. Your short shorts are pulled up high thanks to your crazy sleeping, your tank top lifted up to your chest and exposing just a peak of your tit.
A faint, "fuck," falls from Toji's lips before he lowers himself down to his knees, placing his hands on your waist and gently pulling you closer to him. His eyes are glued to your sleeping form as he carefully hooks two fingers to the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down your warm thighs.
Toji groans at the sight of your damp panties after spreading your legs, reaching for his hard, strained cock and palming at it intensely. He leans down between your thighs, a breath escaping his lips before he licks a stripe up the wet area on your panties. His eyes roll back and he quickly peels your panties off of you, biting his lip at the sight of your dripping pussy.
"Havin' a wet dream, huh, princess? Dirty girl," Toji grunts into the heat of your pussy, your walls clenching around nothing as you whimper. You throw your head to the side, sinking it into the supple pillow and your hair is spread all around the sheets. He takes two fingers again and drags them across your soaking cunt, swirling them around before slowly slipping them into your tight hole.
Just at the feeling of his fingers inside of you has his cock aching inside of his pants, silently humping the mattress as he curse under his breath. You squirm and shift in your sleep, murmuring a soft, "daddy...", drawing out a quiet laugh from Toji.
"All wet for daddy, huh?" He knits his eyebrows together, "shit, take it for daddy..." The way you suck Toji's fingers in like a vice has him imagining just how tight and warm you'd be when you actually do take his dick, how you'd struggle to fit all of him in and how you'd look up at him with teary, doe eyes, repeating how you need him and how you want him, begging him to hit it raw with no barrier between you and your stepdaddy.
Toji starts thrusting his wrist, sliding his finger in and out of your sopping hole, your juices coating his digits. Your eyes flutter open, meeting Toji's greedy eyes and you gasp.
"Mhh... Daddy..? What are you doing?" You slur sleepily, eyes droopy. Toji only leans down again to plant a kiss to your clit, his soft breaths muffled by the bundle of nerves.
"Shh, baby, shh... Take it for daddy, yeah? For daddy, do it for me."
#tw dark content#tw stepcest#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader smut#toji fushigro x reader
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hhfrhrhrh stepdad nanami absolutely demolishing u in bed
“daddy.. daddy—“
“hm, princess? daddy’s here,”
he holds your face in between his fingers, a gentle tap to your cheeks when your eyes gaze off somewhere else.
he pistons into your cunt like a fucking machine, contradicting to his sweet words. you’re barely able to take a breath before he presses into the fat of your cunt yet again, forcing a weighed cry from your throat.
an offering of shade hovers over you as he leans above your body with his; blocking off all sight of what’s beyond him, the only thing visible in your vision is the handsome face of your dearest stepfather.
your cunt creams around his heavy base, pearlescent rings of cum that form lewd, wet noises as he fucks your cunt.
“creamin’ all over the place, hm. does it feel good sweetheart?”
and you're unable to provide a verbal answer, only a humiliating loud moan that leaves your lips; but he'll take it as a yes.
"d-daddy.. no more.. too.. much!"
"no princess, be good. you want daddy to give you your reward, right?"
your small hand tightens around his bicep.
"y-yes.. i wan— wan' daddy's reward.."
"there we go, that's my sweet girl."
nanami knows anything you say is out of the goodness of your heart, and not from a single thought provoked in your head; but he doesn't care.
because stepdaddy nanamin knows that you would never say no to him anyways.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#dead dove do not eat#yandere jujutsu kaisen#dark content#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanamin#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x reader smut#tw stepcest#tw.stepcest#tw.dark content#drabbles ⋆⑅˚₊#requests ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
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Geto and our his girls 💖
#geto suguru#suguru geto#mimiko#nanako#jjkedit#jjk#jjk spoilers#jjk 2#jujutsu kaisen#toriigifs#adkjhajkdhda papa getoooo my weaknessss he is so aahhhh the girls LOVE HIM!!!! and i love him too#the return of my nemesis: dark scenes to color 🙃#usergokalp#usergojoana#userokkottsus#userartless#useraki#tuserelena#tusersky#userdabiluna#usermica#usermoonz#userheidi#usersenka#usersophies#userhyu#userhanyi#userlisette#userinahochi#kilruas
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thinking about sugar daddy toji who loves to go for the sweet and innocent girls. while his other ceo buddies (gojo, geto, sukuna) prefer to go for the high maintenance, hair laid, expensive ass women, toji prefers the cutie pies. he wants a tiny, pretty little baby on his arm. don’t be fooled though, while he might admire the innocent outward appearance, he likes his girls to have bite to them. he finds women he can walk all over and treat any type of way boring, and why would he spend his hard earned money on something that doesn’t entertain him. but most of all, he loves it when he gets to watch his little girls reduced to a mile of mush and cum underneath him every night as he fucks you like he wants to break you, sometimes you think he truly might. your hands are white knuckling the sheets as he rudely pounds into you from behind, his eyes locked on the way his massive cock stretches out your tiny, wheeling hole. “daddy. daddy. daddy” you chant as he his cock reaches places you didn’t even think where possible. and when he’s all finished, he loves his pretty baby curling onto his big chest as he lazily plays with your messy cunt, giving you sweet kisses as he promises to pay you 2k for each orgasm you gave him that night.
should i continue this hc w a lil fic 👀 lemme know
#this new season of jjk is doing dark things to my mind#erens my bf but this man is my DADDY#toji smut#toji fluff#toji x you#toji x reader#toji x y/n#toji x black y/n#toji x black reader#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x black reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#nanami smut#gojo smut#geto smut mahito smut#megumi smut#itadori smut#toji cafe <3
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Death's Bride
Death visits your village to reap the souls of the dying, and you end up making a deal with him. If he spares your sister's life, you will join him in his dark kingdom and become the woman by his side.
Halloween Masterlist 2023
Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female)
Genre: Dark Romance, fluff, smut
Word Count: 14k
Warnings: 18+, smut, dark content, mentions of death, gore + blood. Reader has to take her own life so she can join Sukuna in the afterlife. Sukuna is described as a fallen angel who became the God of Death. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
You know this is no mortal man who is walking towards you with his white cloak billowing behind him as he strides through your village, carrying himself like a king, while you lie on the threshold of your small house, breathing weakly, clutching the bag with herbs to your chest. You know this is no man. You know that this is Death coming to your village to collect what's rightfully his: The souls of the dying.
It started two weeks ago. A strange sickness took root in your village and spread like wildfire. By now, almost everyone has been infected. For some, the sickness is easier to bear, and they are on the way to recovery by now. But others are at the end of their strength.
You are the only one out of your little family who is able to get up while your mother and younger sisters are still bedridden, trapped in fever dreams and violent shivers. You went out this morning to get more herbs, taking hours for the task because you were so shaky on your feet, weakened by almost two weeks of fever, your chest hurting from one coughing fit after the other. But you forced yourself to keep moving. You had to. Your family needed you. You had to prepare more tea to fight their fever.
You dragged yourself through the streets back to your small house, feeling dizzy and nauseous but driven by desperation. But you only came as far as the door before your legs finally gave out, and you broke down from exhaustion and ended up where you are now: Lying weakly on the threshold in the open doorway, staring in horror at the scene in front of you.
A tall, broad figure striding with large, strong steps through your village, dressed all in white with a long flowing cloak with a hood that covers the head of the man wearing it.
It sparks a memory inside you. Old tales whispered to you on long, cold winter nights when you huddled together with your little sisters to keep warm, and your grandmother, who was still alive then, told you those gruesome tales about him. The one who could walk freely between the realms of life and death. The Reaper of Souls. The Fallen. The merciless, cold-hearted God who ruled over the afterlife and held judgment over the souls of the dead.
Hysterical laughter bubbles out of your chest. You cannot look away as the huge man leans down over a crumbled body on the ground. The cobbler, who was always so nice as to accept homemade pie in exchange for a new pair of soles. He was one of the first who was infected. And now he broke down in front of his shop.
The white-cloaked figure extends a large hand and brushes over the head of the lifeless man on the ground. His touch has a frightening finality to it. As if you can see the life leaving the cobbler's body.
The figure in white straightens up again, and the wide hood of his cloak slips off and reveals reddish pink hair and a face more beautiful and otherwordly than anything you have ever seen.
You draw in a sharp breath as you stare at him. Now that you get a clear look, it is obvious that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. This man really isn't human. You are looking at a creature beyond mortal limitations. You are looking at a God.
He turns his head at that moment, and a pair of glowing red eyes trap you in their intense gaze. Your eyes widen, and your breath comes out in short, panicky huffs. You know you wouldn't be able to move even if you tried as if his gaze alone holds enough power to shackle you to the ground.
He is here. The Fallen. The Grim Reaper. The God of Death.
And he starts walking in your direction with slow, sure steps. There is no hurry in his movements. He has all the time in the world because, after all, he is the end of all time for the ones he claims or a neverending cycle of the same suffering over and over again for the poor souls he decides to punish.
Behind him, bright red splotches appear, and you realize that those are flowers, blood-red spider lilies that grow out of the dirt, building a small path to mark where Death walked. It is a horrifyingly beautiful sight.
He carries himself like a King, walking through these dirty streets as if walking down a wide marble hallway in a castle. You suspect that even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away from him.
His beautiful face is adorned with black lines. Intricate filigree patterns accentuate his angular features. The black symbols mark his otherwise flawless skin with a story of pain and sin. Your mind is suddenly flooded with the tales your grandmother told you on those winter nights long ago.
There once was a beautiful angel, the most powerful of them all. But he was too proud to abide by the rules, and so he was punished. His beautiful white wings got torn out of his flesh, and his skin was etched with the marks of the crimes he committed. He was cast out and cursed to become The Fallen. The one who claimed the throne of the afterlife, of the world beyond mortality. He took the reins, and from then on, his true name was forgotten, and everyone only called him by his new name, which was Death.
And now he is walking towards you. Strangely, you don't feel fear anymore, only fascination as you watch him approach.
He stops next to you, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. This close, you can see his face even more clearly, and your mouth opens in awe. He is devastatingly beautiful.
And so big. He is towering over you, tall and broad. From where you are lying on the floor, he looks like a mountain that is about to crush you.
"Are you here to collect souls?"
Your voice sounds weak and hoarse from coughing so much.
His glowing red eyes watch you intently for a long moment, and you think that he almost looks surprised for whatever reason. But then the moment is gone, and he nods. A slight smirk lifts one corner of his lips,
"Yes, but not yours, little one. It's not your time yet. Your body will heal again."
His voice is low and calm. He sounds soothing. Not at all how you imagined Death to sound. You were always scared of this mysterious figure you heard all those grim tales about. A terrifying, violent creature with blood-red eyes and monster-like fangs, a devil who brings pain and suffering.
But right now, you only feel calm. You feel strangely at peace with him here. His power emanates from him, so powerful that you can feel it on your skin and smell it in your nose. But it doesn't feel evil or threatening.
Instead, it feels comforting, like a warm bed with freshly washed sheets waiting for you to sink into and wrap yourself in its sweet comfort. Like the relief you feel after finally lying down after a hard day of physical labor, like the feeling of sinking into a hot bath that eases the tension in your limbs.
But that momentary feeling of peacefulness slips away again a second later when Death takes a large step past you. His feet stomp heavily on the wooden threshold next to your head, and with it, terror fills your senses.
"No!"
Your voice is a hoarse scream as you lunge forward despite your weakened state, your hand darting out to wrap around his ankle and cling desperately to it.
"Please don't go in there! Please don't!"
Your family is in there. Your younger sisters and your mother.
Your lips tremble, just like your hand, but you refuse to let go of the black leather boot that's slippery with mud. You cling to it, sobbing as you gaze up at Death through the hot tears clouding your vision.
He looks down at you, an elegant eyebrow lifted in a curious expression. He stares at your tiny hand wrapped around his ankle. You cannot tell if he is angry or amused about your pathetic attempt to stop him.
"Let go, little one. I told you, your time hasn't come yet. But I have to collect a soul from in there."
You are drowning in dread. And the words pour out of your lips, desperate and panicky,
"Please don't do it! Please take me instead! I am begging you, my Lord! Please spare them!"
Narrowed red eyes meet yours. He laughs softly and lifts his leg, effortlessly shaking your hand off. His low voice sounds amused as if you made a nice little joke.
"Look at you trying to negotiate with Death. You are a brave one. Foolish but brave."
Now you see how truly terrifying he is. Death knows no mercy. He doesn't just collect the souls of the old people who lived a long, fulfilled life. He claims anyone whose time has run out in the cruel hourglass that is life. He will go in there and take your mother or one of your sisters with him even though they still deserve so much more from life.
He looks at you with a cold, intimidating look in his red eyes. His mouth is set in a thin line, and his shoulders are pulled back, making him look even more massive. You cannot negotiate with Death. He is the God of the afterlife. There are forces at hand which every mortal is completely helpless against. Humans are all just little toy figures on the game board of the Gods. Or not even that. Just tiny, irrelevant grains of dust.
And yet, you cannot stop yourself from pleading with him.
"I don't care what you do to me! Take me with you! I am ready to die any death you see fit! Just please, please let my family live! My sisters are still so young. They deserve to see more of life! And they need my mother, she has to live too! But I am dispensable. Take me instead! Please! I will do anything you say!"
He watches you with amused eyes and a thoughtful expression.
"You're such an interesting one. You aren't dying, though. So I cannot take you to the other realm. But we could make a deal. I have to collect one soul from this house. I don't care whose it is. There is still time. I could still heal your sister. But only in exchange for another soul. You die, she lives. How does that sound to you? Are you still brave enough now?"
His red eyes watch you with an amused glint in them. Cruel excitement seems to fill him. You can't help but think that you are something like a strangely colored bug that he watches for his entertainment before he crushes it under the soles of his boots.
But you don't care. You refuse to avert your gaze, staring stubbornly into his otherwordly red eyes, your hands balled into fists as you nod.
"I agree. Please, my Lord. Please save her."
He chuckles softly, a low, amused sound, and his face lights up in a grin. He looks disgustingly delighted.
"I will, little one. But only if you seal a binding deal with me first. I spare your sister's life, and in exchange, you take your own life and let me take you with me. The moment you breathed your last breath, you belong to me, and I can decide what to do with your soul. I am in a good mood today, so I will be open about my plans for you. It would be a waste to send you back here as a curse that haunts your family. Instead, I want to keep you by my side. I could use someone who looks after my temple and warms my bed. I could use a bride. What do you say, little one?"
You can see that he is amused, that he expects you to decline after hearing his plan for you. But you don't. For a moment, you stare at him, horrified by what his words imply. But you shake yourself out of it, driven by a desperate conviction. You cannot let your little sister die today. You could never live with the guilt of knowing you had a chance to save her and let it pass. You will do what it takes. Even if it means following Death into his dark kingdom and giving your body to him. You swallow hard, lips trembling as you answer him,
"Alright. I will be your bride and look after your temple. I agree to your terms. Now, please hurry up and save her!"
More laughter falls from his lips. His red eyes glitter like two precious rubies. He sounds pleased when he says,
"You're a fearless one. I like that."
His red gaze never leaves yours as he reaches inside his cloak and pulls out a wicked-looking dagger.
"Here. Do it. End your life, and let me collect your soul. The moment your soul belongs to me, your sister will wake up from her fever dream and recover from the sickness that has befallen her."
You gulp hard, fear squeezing your heart tightly, as you stare at his large hand wrapped around the golden hilt of the dagger, his red eyes watching you challengingly, watching if you will really fulfill your part of the contract.
You are scared suddenly, your breath coming out in short huffs. You feel lightheaded, adrenaline pumping through your veins, making stars dance before your eyes.
Maybe this is how things are. No matter how prepared you are for Death, when he comes to really collect you, you feel fear after all. Fear of the finality of it all. There is no way back after you take this step.
But you don't hesitate. You press your lips together tightly and take the offered dagger out of Death's hand.
The moment you hold the heavy weapon in your grasp, Death's large hand wraps around your wrist, and he pulls you to your feet, making you stand before him.
He is so much taller than you, even now when you are standing. You have to tilt your head back to look into his eyes. He looks even more intimidating up close. Powerful, strong, unrelenting. A cunning business partner who is waiting for you to fulfill your side of the contract. A contract you pay for with your life.
You half expect him to taunt you, and it makes you clench your jaw and stare up at him defiantly. But to your surprise, there is no mockery in his low voice when he speaks up again.
"Have no fear. You won't feel any pain. I will make sure of that."
His words bring tears to your eyes, making them spill over with the hot salty liquid as your chest fills with comfort, finding solace in the fact that Death apparently knows mercy after all.
Your hand is trembling violently, but you bring the sharp blade of the dagger to your neck, gazing up at Death as you do so, looking deeply into his glowing red eyes as you slice your own throat.
The sharp metallic taste of blood fills your every sense. You taste it, you smell it, you feel it hot and wet running down your slit throat and your chest, you hear it gurgling in your mouth when you try to speak.
But Death leans down to take the bloodied dagger from your hand. His other hand cups your cheek. It's so large against your face. But his touch is gentle as if he is holding a thin, fragile porcelain cup,
"It's fine, little one. You did well. Brave until the end."
His voice is soothing. Low and calm, almost seductive. Like a lover luring you into his comforting embrace. You lean into his touch, smiling weakly when you feel his thumb caress your cheek soothingly.
Black spots dance before your eyes, and you feel so tired. You see his lips move, but you can't hear anymore. Your legs and hands feel numb. You fall forward, but strong arms catch you.
You feel yourself get swooped up into Death's strong arms and pressed safely against his broad chest. You feel him move as your head lols back weakly. The ghost of a smile tugs at your blood-stained lips. He carries you like a groom carrying his bride to the bedroom on their wedding night.
How fitting. After all, you are truly his bride now.
If you weren't so weak, you would laugh at the commentary your delirious mind provides.
By now, your vision has vanished completely. The only thing you are still aware of are his arms around you. It's peaceful and warm. As painless as he promised. You feel one last weak throb of your heart. And then it's only sweet, comforting darkness and the feeling of those strong arms carrying you safely across the border from mortal life into Death's dark kingdom.
You wake up feeling rested and comfortable. Your eyes are still closed, and you sigh contentedly, snuggling deeper into the soft and warm sensation of a silky pillow and blanket.
In the back of your mind, some strange warning tugs, but you are too wrapped in the luxurious feeling of being well-rested after a good night's sleep to pay it much attention. You can't remember the last time you felt rested like this. It was hard since your father died. You are the oldest daughter and had to help your mother raise your younger sisters. You were the one who had to do most physical labor, working on one of the farms day in and day out. Your body constantly ached somewhere.
But not today.
You sigh happily, stretching your limbs and marveling at how soft the bedsheets and the blanket feel against your naked skin and how large the bed is.
That's when the little voice in your head becomes too loud to ignore. You blink in confusion and open your eyes.
You are in a large room with marble walls decorated opulently with red and gold murals. Red candles are flickering in large lanterns. A fire is crackling in a beautifully decorated hearth. The bed you are lying in is huge and definitely not made for only one person.
You gasp and sit up, looking around hastily.
There are two red pillows and two red blankets, and everything is made of the finest silk. As if you are in a King's bed chambers.
And, suddenly, you remember everything.
The sickness haunting your village. Your dying sister. Death walking towards you. The deal you made with him. The dagger in your hands. The blood. Strong arms carrying you. You remember him. Death himself. Your bridegroom.
Instinctively, you grab the blanket and wrap it tightly around your body, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Your heart is beating wildly, and it makes you feel nauseous. You still remember the feeling of your heartbeat becoming slower and slower before it finally faded away completely. You remember dying.
And yet you are here now, breathing, feeling the silk on your skin, feeling the thrumming of your heart. So very alive, even though you know you can't be.
And so very naked in a man's bed. Or not a man's bed. In a God's bed. In Death's bed.
At that moment, the large door opposite the bed opens, and you wince in fear. You clutch the blanket tightly against your body, staring at the door with wide eyes.
He stands in the doorway, his pink hair almost brushing against the doorframe. Tall and massive. He looks intimidating even without the white cloak he wore when reaping souls. Even the way he is dressed right now, as if he just woke up too, with only a pair of black pants on his muscular body. His feet and chest are bare.
There are more tattoos on his body, matching the ones on his face. Black lines decorate the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, as well as his strong arms.
He could almost be a human man. Almost. But those glowing red eyes tell you otherwise. Those are the eyes of a mythical creature. The eyes of a God.
And you feel like a small animal trapped in that gaze as you sit there on his large bed, naked except for the silk blanket wrapped protectively around yourself, unable to move as you watch him walk into the room.
He moves gracefully like a big cat, even though he is so tall and muscular. A slight smirk lifts his lips as he approaches the bed. His red eyes never leave your small figure huddled in his blanket.
"Ah, I see you are awake."
"What... what did you do to me?"
The words have left your mouth before you can stop yourself. Confusion and fear make you blurt out mindlessly. You are distraught by the memories of slitting your own throat, by the feeling of dying. And you are terrified by the knowledge that you are naked in Death's bed. Terrified by what he might have done to you in your sleep. On the other hand, maybe it would be better for you not to have been awake for what he did.
He falters for a moment, his beautiful face shadowed by a frown as his red gaze bores searchingly into yours.
"We made a deal. Can you not remember? Your life in exchange for your sisters? You agreed to follow me here."
You nod firmly,
"Yes, yes, of course I remember."
"When what..." he starts, but then comprehension seems to dawn on his features, and he laughs, sounding mocking, his eyes glittering amusedly when he continues,
"Don't worry. I didn't touch you while you were unconscious. Where would be the fun in that?"
Oh.
You feel some of the worst tension leave your body, a long breath you had been holding finally finding its way out of your lips.
"But why am I... naked?"
"You were dirty. Do you think I would let you sleep in my bed like that, full of dirt and blood? My servant undressed you and cleaned you and put you in my bed."
So you were right. This is his bed.
"Why am I in your bed?"
He huffs at your question as if you asked something utterly stupid.
"Because you are my bride. Of course, you sleep in my bed. We have a deal. So if I say you sleep in my bed, you will sleep here. Is that clear?"
You lick your lips nervously, feeling fear tingle under your skin at his imperious tone and the intense gaze out of those unnervingly red eyes.
You quickly avert your gaze, bowing your head obediently,
"Yes, my Lord."
"Sukuna."
You blink and lift your head again to look at him questioningly.
"What?"
"That was my name before I became Death. Sukuna. I want you to call me that from now on."
He sighs, and the stern expression on his face becomes softer when he adds,
"It would be uncalled for my bride to address me with my title. I am Sukuna for you. Your betrothed."
He says his own name with a slight tilt in his voice as if he isn't used to saying it. Maybe he isn't. It must have been a very long time since he told someone his name. Maybe eons.
You gulp hard.
How strange it is to be here with him. To talk to him as if he is a regular mortal when he is so much more than that. He has never even been human. He is a being so ancient and so powerful, so crucial to every mortal's existence, that your head spins just from trying to imagine it.
But you force yourself to be brave and look at him.
He is right. You agreed to his terms. And he did his part. He spared your sister. Now, it's your turn to fulfill the rest of your side of the contract.
You are still trembling and hugging the blanket tightly to your naked form, but you look bravely into his eyes and give him a polite nod,
"Of course, Sukuna. Thank you for saving my sister. I will be a good bride for you."
A day ago, you were a mere mortal. One of millions who were caught in the hands of fate. Working day in and out to stay alive, always hoping, begging, praying to have more time and to see your loved ones live a long life too, while all of you were exposed to the threat of Death cutting your lifespan with his sword at any second.
Now, you are beyond that. You died, and you came back again. Brought back by Death himself, the Master over every soul who left the mortal world behind.
From this day on, you reside in the afterlife. From this day onwards, you will be Death's Bride and live your new life, or rather your afterlife, by Sukuna's side.
He tells you that you are free to move around in the temple. When you ask if you are also allowed to go outside, he lifts an elegant eyebrow and seems strangely amused, as if you asked something stupid.
"You can also go outside. But I don't think you will find anything interesting there, little one."
You don't know what he means, but accept it and take the fine clothes his loyal servant Uraume brings you. Everything is made out of the finest silk. A fabric so luxurious and soft that it feels like a caress when Uraume helps you get dressed. You gulp when the servant puts jewelry on your neck and wrists. Heavy gold and pretty jewels, red rubies that glitter in the same color as your groom's eyes.
Sukuna's temple is enormous and luxuriously furnished. Not at all like the tiny, shabby house you grew up in. But you cannot claim that this temple is better than your old home because, contrary to the vivacious atmosphere of your former home, Sukuna's house is eerily silent. A silence that feels haunting.
You don't dare walk too fast so as not to make any loud noise. You catch yourself whispering because your normal voice sounds too loud in these empty halls. It's a ghostly place. The silence feels too heavy, almost tangible. Something that can easily drive a person into madness.
You try to focus on the little noises that are there. The little signs of existence, like the sound of water flowing into the large bath. Or the sound of the doors sliding open and closed.
It takes a while to explore the whole place. To see all the large rooms with their rich tapestries and carpets. Gold and rubies shine and glitter everywhere. But a lot of the rooms look too clean, too perfect. There are no signs of someone actually living in them.
It is lonely here.
Maybe this is why Sukuna was willing to make a contract with you that would bind you to him and make you join him here. Maybe he was looking for a companion, or just a pet, to amuse him in this everlasting silence.
It is not like you are a servant here, as Sukuna made it sound at first. You assumed you would tend to him, clean his temple and clothes, wash and cook for him. But that isn't the case. His servant, Uraume, takes care of those tasks. They mostly remain invisible, like a ghost, taking care of everything for their Master, seemingly manifesting out of the shadows to bring you fresh clothes and oils and wine.
You ask them timidly what you are supposed to do, and they shake their head to inform you that you are just here for Master Sukuna's enjoyment.
A statement that makes a shudder run through you.
You have been here for three days, and so far, he hasn't laid a hand on you, maybe because he was away most of the time, apparently reaping souls on a battlefield.
But he demands your presence at dinner with him, where he sits across from you at a large table, and those gleaming red eyes never leave you. He is polite, asking questions about your day and how you like the jewelry.
And he joins you in the large bed every night, naked, with his tall and broad body full of solid muscles and black lines unashamedly on display for your terrified gaze.
You try to tell yourself it is the shock that makes you unable to look away from him when he undresses next to the bed and then slips in. But a little voice in the back of your mind whispers treacherously to you that maybe it is because Sukuna has an undeniably beautiful body.
"You're getting quite intimate with Death, my dear, aren't you?"
His amused low voice makes you hastily look away and hide your face in the silky pillow, heart racing nervously. His mocking laugh makes goosebumps creep over your skin. But he doesn't seem mad. He is just amused once again.
"Don't be shy, little one. Look all you want. You'll have all the time in the world to explore this body."
You bite your lip at his words, your body tensing up under the blanket when a large hand lands on the nape of your neck and slowly slides down your spine. Your heart is fluttering, and you don't dare breathe. But he pulls his hand away after a moment.
You slip to the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, knees pulled up, curling into yourself, instinctively trying to protect yourself as if it would help anything against this God in your bed.
The more time you spend in Sukuna's Kingdom, the more you realize that this is really death. It is the absence of life, the absence of sound, and plant- and animal life. You begin to understand that the once graceful angel Sukuna really got punished. This here is his suffering, his punishment. The loneliness, the absence of life that so suffocatingly surrounds him at all times.
But he was cunning enough to cheat and take his chance when you offered it so beautifully to him. Now, it is the two of you here in this dead place.
It's truly a lonely place. Maybe that's the definition of hell. To be trapped in a beautiful temple that holds all the riches the world could offer but lacks life, lacks the connection to other beings.
You try to befriend Uraume, but they seem to vanish when they aren't busy with some task. Your attempts at chatting with them get declined with a polite but stern bow and a "Please forgive me, my Lady, but I must ask you to refrain from distracting me from serving Master Sukuna."
You meet no other being aside from Uraume and Sukuna.
The worst thing is the eerie silence. It almost drives you crazy. It makes you stomp your feet loudly just so you can reassure yourself you are still able to hear. It makes you slowly push open the large gate that leads outside in a desperate attempt to find anything living.
The rich opulence inside Sukuna's home is a stark contrast to what greets you when you finally step outside the temple.
A seemingly endless wasteland stretches before your eyes. There is no sky above you. It feels like you are in an enormous cave with a ceiling so high your vision cannot reach it. Eternal darkness lives in this place. Cold with icy winds and a rotten stench of iron and decay.
It's gruesome. Hopeless.
You press a hand over your nose and mouth and stand there wide-eyed, staring at the endless darkness in the distance. But as frightening as it is, the complete darkness in the distance is a blessing compared to what you see in the strange, dim, reddish light surrounding Sukuna's temple.
A vast crimson-red sea surrounds the island upon which the temple is built. The color and the stench make you ask yourself a question to which you already know the answer. Yes, this sea must be a sea of blood.
You shudder as you take a tentative step closer to the crimson-red liquid at your feet. You gulp hard as you lift your head to look straight ahead. There is a narrow path leading through the sea of blood, a path that is made of stones and other shapes. Shapes that look too similar to bones to be a coincidence.
But at the end of that path is something even more horrible. A massive pile of bones. It is so high that it seems like a small hill. And on its top is a large throne made out of skulls.
This must be the place from the tales you heard whispered.
Death's throne.
This must be where Sukuna holds court and decides on the fate of the newly deceased. Some will move on to eternal peace. Some will suffer forever in the fires of the afterlife. Some will be forced to return to the mortal world. But not as humans but as empty shells. As curses that were laid upon them by others.
A heavy hand lands on your shoulder, and you scream.
You whirl around wide-eyed, only to stare into the smirking face of your soon-to-be husband.
Sukuna's red eyes wander slowly from your face to his throne in the midst of the sea of blood and back again to your face, looking deeply into your eyes as he says in his low, velvety voice,
"I see, you found my throne. You can sit next to me up there if you wish while I pass judgment on the newly reaped souls."
You shake your head frantically.
"No! No, there will be no need for that!"
He raises an elegant eyebrow and huffs softly.
"Such a pity."
But he leaves it at that. His white coak billows behind him majestically as he strides back into the temple, and his soft laugh carries over to your ears, amused, maybe a bit mocking.
You follow him hastily, not wanting to be out here any second longer.
You plan to never set foot outside again after that. It's easier to pretend when you are inside the temple. It's easier to pretend that you are not in the middle of literal hell.
You aren't sure how many days or weeks have passed since you arrived in Sukuna's Kingdom. Time is nonexistent here. There are no seasons. There is no night and day. You have dinner at appointed times, and you go to bed where you still slide to the far end of the bed. But you have no idea if the days have the same hours as in the mortal world.
It might be a week, maybe since you were brought here when Uraume informs you while dressing you in the morning,
"Tonight, the wedding ceremony will be held. I will bathe you and dress you in your wedding dress later on."
And you feel like you are falling. Falling deeper and deeper into darkness so absolute it feels like velvet brushing over your skin as it swallows you wholly.
You knew this was coming. But it still shakes you to your deepest core. There is something so final about becoming Death's bride. You know you will be here forever. You will be Sukuna's forever. Bound to him by a promise, by a contract, by a union of bodies, maybe by blood too.
The wedding dress is the most beautiful dress you have ever seen. White silk, so delicate it looks like a mere spider's web. Your skin shimmers through it. The dress clings to your curves, showing your body almost as if you are naked. It looks like the dress of a Queen. Or a Goddess.
"Master Sukuna wanted the finest wedding dress ever made for his bride. You should be grateful and wear it with pride."
The disapproval in Uraume's voice is evident as they catch you crossing your arms timidly in front of your breasts, trying to hide your body.
When you walk towards your groom, you hold your head up high, clutching the wedding bouquet of spider lilies tightly in your hands, your gaze glued to Sukuna's glowing red eyes, trying your best to be brave.
You play along and do what Uraume instructed, extending a hand so Sukuna can take it and let him lead you to an altar. You are brave. You don't flinch when Sukuna takes the same dagger that you took your life with and touches it to your wrist, cutting your skin lightly.
No blood is welling up from the wound. Another mystery. What are you now? You feel a heart beating in your chest, but you don't bleed. Is anything you feel even real? Or is the beating of your heart just a phantom sensation you remember from being alive and refuse to let go of?
You feel lightheaded as you stare at the thin wound on your wrist, but only for a moment because then Uraume hands Sukuna a tray with a small pot with a black liquid in it.
You know what is to come. Your husband is marking you as his, filling your wound with the black liquid, giving you the same markings he bears.
He doesn't kiss you but stands in front of you, so close that you feel his warmth. One of his large hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing slowly over your lower lip before it pushes into your mouth and feeds you some of the black liquid he marked you with.
"Take my sin into you and become mine for all eternity. Be my companion in this eternal darkness, like I will be yours."
There is something in his voice and about his choice of words that makes tears prick at your eyes, but you will them away and repeat his vow.
He takes you that night for the first time, consummating your marriage by pushing you onto the bed, one of his large hands pressing your face down into the silken pillow, as Sukuna settles over you.
You clutch the pillow tightly between your fingers when you feel his heavy weight pressing your body down. You tell yourself to be brave and obedient, but you cannot stop a muffled cry from falling from your lips when his huge cock splits you open and claims you for the first time.
He takes you with deep, thorough thrusts. The initial pain vanishes after the first few thrusts, and after that, your union isn't exactly painful anymore, but it feels frightening how full you feel, how stretched out. You have never lain with a man before, but even if you had, you know no mortal man would have been able to prepare you for your wedding night with a God like Sukuna.
He is so big, so strong, taking you unrelentingly while you tremble in his arms, knowing you could never run from him even if you chose to back out of your contract with him.
His large hands are placed on each side of your head, his lips trail over your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your skin, while he snaps his hips and makes you feel like you are getting crushed anytime his heavy weight presses you down onto the bed.
There is no love in this union of your bodies, but it's not like you were as naive as to ever imagine your wedding night to be filled with love or tenderness.
You always expected to marry out of convenience. A girl like you couldn't afford the luxury of love when picking a husband. You had a family to look after. Maybe it would have been one of the farmer's sons if you were lucky. You would have given birth to his children in exchange for a relatively comfortable life for yourself and your mother and sisters in one of the big farmhouses.
You never were so foolish as to believe you would have a loving marriage. So this wedding night with Sukuna isn't that much different from what you were expecting in your future anyway.
And so you grit your teeth and take his cock obediently, letting him use your body to satisfy his desire until you hear his low groans in your ear when he finds his release and fills you with his warm seed.
You are a good bride.
You know you aren't expected to work, but you find your way into the large kitchen anyway, standing behind Uraume as they prepare a meal.
Sukuna has been gone the whole day, and there is only so much staring at the ceiling while lying in your bed that you can do before you inevitably go insane. So you went in search of the only other living being down here, hoping they wouldn't send you away.
"Do you need help with the cooking? Can I maybe chop some ingredients or something?"
Sukuna's servant sends you a cold gaze over their shoulder, looking at you as if you offended them by the suggestion alone.
"I have spent eons preparing Master Sukuna's meals, my Lady. I don't need any help. And you aren't a servant here. You should do other things."
"But... but that's not what I meant. I am sorry if I offended you. The food you cook is always perfect. I just...I am looking for something to do and for some company maybe. Can I please assist you? There is nothing else to do here."
Uraume sighs, but they nod slightly, and you feel relief wash over you. They wave you over, hand you a knife, and point to a cutting board where a small pile of vegetables is waiting to get sliced into little pieces. You smile at Uraume and murmur a soft thanks, going to work immediately.
"Uraume? Can I ask you something? Does Sukuna even need to eat?"
It's something you have been curious about since the first time you sat across from him at the large dining table. You don't feel any hunger since you woke up here in the afterlife. Why would someone who is already dead need food? But you eat because you feel like it is required of you in your role as Sukuna's bride. It made you wonder, though. Why would a powerful being like Sukuna need to eat? Or does he just do it because he likes the sensation of eating?
Uraume watches you warily for a long moment, probably contemplating whether they should chat with you about Sukuna. In the end, they sigh softly and answer you,
"Master Sukuna doesn't need any food. But he wants to eat."
Uraume hesitates for a moment, their hand with the knife hovering over the meat they are currently chopping, but then they add softly,
"In the heavenly realms, they have big feasts all the time with as much food and wine as one can imagine. Even after The Fall, Master Sukuna didn't want to give up on that. He was supposed to have a life void of all those joys, but he evades that form of punishment by consuming the food I prepare for him with ingredients I collect from the mortal world. Of course, it's not quite the same taste as the foods prepared in the celestial realm, but for the ingredients I can obtain, it is the best food he can get."
It makes sense.
You can't help but chuckle softly as you realize that eating a four-course meal every night is Sukuna's little ongoing rebellion against the ones who turned him into The Fallen.
It somehow makes you see your husband in a different light. It makes him seem a little more human. A little more relatable. You have been there, too, several times, feeling the desire to do something out of spite when someone tries to forbid you something.
That evening, you watch him closely while he eats the meal Uraume and you prepared for him. For the first time, you take in how much he seems to treasure the food served to him. He takes his time eating it, letting it melt slowly on his tongue, taking in all the different flavors, and his eyes close in pleasure when he savors the taste.
It almost makes you feel sorry for him and for what he lost when he got cast out of heaven.
You never wanted to set foot outside the temple again after seeing the endless wasteland and the sea of blood. But your curiosity gets the better of you when Sukuna informs you he will be holding court today, and you watch him slip into his white cloak and walk through the huge doors of the temple towards the path that leads to his throne.
You follow him after a few minutes, unable to resist the lure his words have on you.
A horrifying sight greets you. The sea of blood is filled with a large crowd of shadowy figures. The bloody waters are shallow, only reaching up to the knees of those standing in it. But none of them look down. They all have their heads tilted back to look up at the imposing figure who thrones over them. Atop the gruesome pile of bones, sitting on his throne of skulls, is Death.
He looks bored. His long legs are crossed casually one over the other. His chin is resting on the back of one hand while his eyes trail slowly over the souls standing before him, awaiting his judgment.
Eyes that glow blood-red, vibrant like two lights in the dark, standing out frighteningly in the dim light of the afterlife.
He is beautiful and terrifying.
You can see the immeasurable extent of his power and can even feel it as if it is a physical thing that surrounds you, making the air thick and filling your senses with dread. A dread that comes with the absence of all hope.
Sukuna is the King of the Afterlife. The God of Death. There is no escape from him. Every living soul will one day end up here and stand before your husband.
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. You instinctively hug yourself even as your gaze stays glued to the scene playing out in front of you.
As expected, Sukuna is unrelenting in his judgment. There is no mercy to be expected when he makes his decisions. He isn't swayed by the cruelty of the fates of the ones standing before him, no matter how tragic they are. His decisions are rational and brutal at times. And yet, after you stood there for several hours and watched him, you have to admit that his judgment is fair. Of course, he won't revive anyone. But he assigns an appropriate ending to their lives. He punishes the ones who did evil. He transforms the ones who got cursed. He leads the ones who are innocent to their eternal sleep.
When the last soul has vanished in a cloud of red smoke, Sukuna gets up from his throne and slowly walks back toward the temple. His movements are graceful, making you watch him with a feeling akin to admiration.
His red eyes land on you, and for a split second, a surprised expression crosses his beautiful features.
When he reaches you, he stops next to you with a content expression on his face and a small smirk lifting the corners of his lips,
"So my bride watched after all, hm? I am pleased."
You nod at him, and to your surprise, you see his smirk turn into a smile.
One of his large hands reaches out and lands on your head. Long fingers brush over your hair, petting you for a brief moment before he pulls away again and continues walking toward the temple.
You feel strangely light-hearted when you fall into step behind your husband.
When he takes you that night, he is gentler in the way he handles you. He doesn't press you face down into the pillow like he usually does, but instead rolls the two of you to the side, entering you from behind while you lay in his strong arms and his large hands trail down your body, cupping your breasts and rubbing circles over your belly.
His lips graze your earlobes while his low groans and murmurs fill the room,
"You're a good little bride."
You don't know whether it's his words or the way he snaps his hips that makes you clench around his thick cock and exhale a surprised moan, as for the first time, you feel thick syrupy pleasure explode inside you and spread through your whole body in warm crashing waves.
Your husband is often away. In the mortal world, reaping souls. You know that anywhere he goes, he brings devastation and fear. But when he comes home to you, he brings a certain comfort with him, as strange as it sounds.
You are almost glad when Sukuna's tall, broad figure walks into the wide double doors. It is very lonely here and scary at times when you become too aware of where you are, and the silence becomes too suffocating. Sukuna's presence brings comfort. His low, calm voice helps you drift away from that brink of madness you sometimes feel yourself drifting towards when you are alone with your thoughts for too long.
Your husband is Death, but to you, he is the only sign of life you meet down here, and that is enough to make you drift towards him when he is at home.
He is terrifying because of his role in this cycle of life and death. He is terrifying because he symbolizes the end. His position is terrifying. But the man Sukuna doesn't seem so bad.
He treats you well. He is polite. And as long as he looks at you and talks to you, you feel real. You still exist. You aren't gone. You aren't a ghost or a curse. You are very real and corporal.
You catch yourself following Sukuna around, watching him while he polishes his sword and the various daggers he carries. Watching him when he sits comfortably on the bed with books spread around him, reading and making notes.
His red eyes find yours and narrow in a frown.
"You've been staring at me for half an hour. Do you have nothing to entertain yourself with? What are you usually doing while I am away?"
The question catches you off guard. Is he mad at you? Is he accusing you of being lazy?
You look nervously at him,
"There isn't a lot to do here... I mostly just... wait? I sleep a lot, I take baths, and I help Uraume in the kitchen. Is there anything you want me to do?"
He blinks at you and shrugs.
"Why don't you find a past time? I showed you my library. Why don't you spend your days there and read?"
You feel shame wash over you. You get treated like a noble woman here by the King's side. But you have always been just a poor peasant from a dirty little village where the only thing that mattered was physical labor.
"I never learned how to read."
Sukuna's red eyes widen, and he stares at you for a long moment before he finally says firmly,
"Follow me."
He gets up and walks toward the door without bothering to check if you follow him. A man who is used to everyone obeying his commands.
You quickly scramble to your feet, bunch up your dress, and do as he says. You have to walk fast to keep up with Sukuna's large steps, probably looking pathetic as you hurry after him. But he doesn't comment on it. There is an amused smirk on his beautiful face, though, when he waits for you at the door that leads to his personal library.
It's a vast room with large shelves filled with so many books that you suspect he must own every book that has ever been written.
"Sit."
Sukuna's low voice is demanding, but you can hear the tint of amusement in it as he points one long finger to one of the large armchairs.
You nod and sit down, watching Death stride through his collection of books and pull several books from the various shelves, which he then places on the small table next to your armchair.
"I will teach you how to read. These are all books that contain very little text. We will start with those."
Your head snaps up, and you stare at him, caught off guard and astonished by his offer. Why does he care whether you have something to do in your time here or not? Why does he take some of his precious time to teach his bride, who he claimed is only here to warm his bed, how to read?
At the same time, you feel a shudder run through your body, feeling flustered suddenly as you realize that this means you will spend a lot of time with him.
Holed up in Death's personal library, where he sits so close to you that his large hand brushes against yours anytime he turns a page. So close that his breath caresses the skin of your neck anytime he tells you something in his low, velvety voice. You find it hard to focus on his words, too distracted by the warmth emanating from his tall, muscular body.
He takes you almost every night, but somehow, those hours spent with him in the library where he teaches you how to read feel much more intimate than the nights spent under his heavy body.
Sometimes, Sukuna returns home as immaculately looking as he left. His white cloak clean, his beautiful face flawless. But at other times, he comes home covered in dirt and blood from walking over a battlefield or through a slaughtered city.
On those days, you help him shrug out of his stained clothes and then lead him to the large bath, where you join him in the hot water to wash the blood and dirt off his muscles.
It is something he demanded from you.
"Why should I wash myself when I have a perfect little bride to do that. Isn't it your duty to serve me? Now take off your clothes and join me in the bath."
At first, it took all your bravery to slip out of your clothes in front of his wolfish gaze and smug grin. But now, it is no cause for shame or discomfort anymore. You are used to being naked in front of Sukuna. Used to getting claimed fully by him.
But it's not just that, you realize as you slip into the hot water and walk towards your husband.
By now, you feel a certain pride in this. Sukuna is Death. He is a God. A being that seems untouchable with all the power he holds. But you are allowed to touch him. You are allowed to invade his personal space.
There is something so intimate about straddling his lap here in the hot water, naked skin on skin, as you cup his beautiful face with one hand and use a washcloth to wipe the blood off his skin and wash his hair. A certain bond blossoms between the two of you when his muscular arms encircle you, and his red eyes watch you intently, glittering like two rubies in the flickering candlelight while he lets you take care of him. There is a certain softness in the way he thanks you for cleaning him despite his former claims that this was your duty to him.
It's during one of those shared baths when Sukuna kisses you for the first time.
He has claimed you almost every night, had you under him or in front of him, or made you be on top and sit on his large, heavy cock while he lifted you up and down and rolled his hips to thrust deeply into you. He made you bury your nose in his pink pubic hair while he used your mouth for his pleasure, made you choke on his copious amounts of seed, or sneered when he pulled out in time to shoot it all over your face and naked breasts.
He claimed you in every way a man can claim a woman. But he never kissed you.
In all the months you have been here by his side, Sukuna never kissed you until this afternoon here in the large bath where you sit on his lap and wash the blood off his face.
Your face is barely inches from his as you scrub at the dried blood on his right cheek when you feel one of his large hands trail up your back slowly. A caress that feels too gentle for a being like him. Your eyes flicker to his, and you see him watching you intently with an unreadable expression in those glowing red eyes.
Before you can go back to scrubbing at the blood on his cheeks, you feel his large hand cup the back of your head and pull you closer.
Your eyes widen when Sukuna's lips touch yours. They are surprisingly soft. His kiss is slow at first, lips barely moving against yours. But it grows more passionate quickly. His large hand tightens its hold on your hair, his mouth opens against yours, and his velvety tongue licks over your lips before pushing between them.
You shudder, not able to tell if it is from fear or pleasure. But your eyes fall shut, and your hand drops the washcloth. Your arms link behind Sukuna's broad neck. You open your mouth willingly for him, letting him in further, licking against his tongue experimentally, surprised at the heat that it makes throb in your core.
A soft growl is heard, and you can't tell if it's coming from you or Sukuna. But you know that his arms tighten around you and that you press your naked breasts against his muscular chest as you push your tongue eagerly against his, caressing it with a hunger that you didn't know you possessed.
You feel an all too familiar hardness growing beneath you, but instead of dreading it, you press against it eagerly, allowing yourself to fall into those hot, red feelings of desire and need. Allowing yourself to dive into those stormy waves of carnal pleasure, embracing the comfort and freedom it offers you.
This time you shudder in pleasure when Sukuna's thick cock pushes into you. This time, you gasp needily when his large hands knead your flesh, and his nails dig into your skin as he lifts you up and down on his throbbing hardness. This time, you meet the snaps of his hips eagerly, taking him deeper, making the act faster and more passionate as you ride him shamelessly until you are both grunting and gasping loudly, and the warm water splashes out of the large tub anytime your bodies connect in those passionate and frenzied moves. Both of you cry out loudly when your pleasure reaches its peak at the same time.
When Sukuna is at home, you can almost believe you are living a normal life in the mortal world. Of course, a life very different from your former one. A life as a princess, maybe, or a queen, who is living in a castle, wrapped in luxuries, with nothing to do except improve your newly acquired reading skills and help your loyal servant prepare decadent meals that you eat with your husband before he leads you to your opulent bed chamber where you both read and share the occasional laugh about an amusing passage in a book until your low moans fill the room while your lips and bodies meet in a passionate union.
You almost succeed in pretending that you are still alive.
Almost.
But then Sukuna leaves the temple to fulfill his duty as Death, and you become too aware again that the windows are only enchanted to show day and night and a blurry landscape instead of the eternal night and the nothingness surrounding Sukuna's temple.
And that's when you feel the unsettling presence of the complete silence choking you again. That's when you feel the absolute absence of life closing in on you again as if the temple walls are moving closer and closer to you.
You can only escape for so long into the fantasy world of the books you are able to read now. And Uraume isn't very helpful with how they seem to avoid you except when dressing you or cooking with you.
You catch yourself humming under your breath to comfort yourself. The humming turns into soft singing. At first, you feel a bit weird about how loud your voice sounds, but soon, you become braver and sing at an average volume, unafraid of how your voice fills the marble rooms of the temple with its clear sound. You are surprised by how many songs you remember. Songs from your childhood, folk songs from your village, popular songs from the big cities you heard performed at the harvest festival every ear.
You get so comfortable with it that you don't think twice about singing, even when Sukuna is at home. You only realize what you are doing when you hear him chuckle softly behind you, and you gasp and stop singing and turn around to see him standing in the open doorway, leaning against the door frame with his muscular arms crossed in front of his broad chest, his white cloak painted with the scarlet pattern of a soul claimed.
He smirks at you,
"Don't let me interrupt you. I am just unfamiliar with such sounds here in my domain. But it sounds lovely. Keep singing for me, my little bird."
You feel intimidated all of a sudden now that his red eyes are watching you, but you swallow down the nervousness and continue singing the song you were in the middle of before Sukuna entered the room. A song as old as your village, kept alive from generation to generation, speaking of the human longing for company, a home, a fire to keep you warm, and a love to comfort you.
Sukuna's gaze is glued to you, a strange emotion flickering over his god-like features. Something akin to longing, you think. Something akin to sadness even. But before you can wonder too much about it, he turns away from you and leaves the room without any further word.
When you wake up the next morning, you can't move. Your eyes fly open in panic, only to realize you are lying draped over your husband's broad, muscular body, your naked skin pressing against his, one thigh thrown over his hip, your head resting on his buff chest. And what made you unable to move are his strong arms that are wrapped tightly around you, holding you in their firm embrace while he is still fast asleep.
Your breathing calms again, and a small smile lifts your lips as you relax against Sukuna's warm body, letting his strong embrace pull you back to sleep.
"Sukuna, look!"
You are walking next to him on the path leading from his throne back to his temple when you spot it. A bright green patch of color in the otherwise dim and monotone landscape of greys and browns.
You hurriedly walk over to it, only to realize that, to your utter astonishment, it seems to be a cherry tree sprout growing bravely out of the seemingly dead ground of this Kingdom of Death.
You lift your head to look at Sukuna, only to find him staring at the tiny sprout bewilderedly.
Before you can ask him what's wrong, he stomps towards the small flower, yanks it out of the earth, and burns it with a swish of his hand, making you take a hurried step back and gasp,
"Why... why did you do this?"
His eyes glow viciously in the dim light when he turns to look at you.
"A flower like that doesn't belong here! This is the land of the dead!"
He stomps away, his white cloak billowing behind him as you can only stare after him with a confused frown.
Why does a little delicate flower bother him so much?
It is later during dinner when you dare ask him again. Sukuna's gaze is stern, his expression filled with a cold rage that makes you gulp fearfully.
"You don't know why I am upset? Then let me tell you, my little bride. Nothing grows here! No life exists here! That is how it always was! But now you are here with your singing and your liveliness, and suddenly, a symbol of renewal and hope grows in the middle of my kingdom! I disturbed the balance! By bringing you here, I disturbed it! You brought life into the realm of Death!"
"B... but that doesn't make sense. I died. I took my own life to follow you here!"
"And yet, you are still so ... so full of life. It's not right!"
You gulp hard, instinctively trying to hide the hurt you feel at his words. You bow to him, muttering,
"Forgive me, my Lord."
"I told you not to call me that."
You don't answer him but just get up from the table and hastily walk deeper inside the temple, fleeing from his words that cut deeper than the dagger that you used to slit your own throat with.
Tears are gathering in your eyes. You cannot bring yourself to care about whether you are allowed to leave the table before Sukuna or not. If he wants, he can punish you later, and you will endure whatever punishment he sees fit.
You wipe angrily at the tears that spill over as you stumble into the library and close the heavy door behind you. Why does it hurt so much? You came here because you agreed to his cruel conditions. You sacrificed yourself to save your sister. It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience. Come here, get wed to Death, and warm his bed. It was something you were supposed to hate. So why does it feel like you are being ripped apart upon feeling like your husband rejects your presence?
You huddle into one of the oversized armchairs, hiding your face behind a random book you grab from the table in a fruitless attempt to distract yourself.
That is where Sukuna finds you later that night.
You lift your head from the open book in your lap when you hear the door opening and see Sukuna's tall, broad figure looming in the open doorway. His red eyes glow devilishly in the dim light of the room.
"Don't run from me, brat."
A sad laugh escapes your lips, and you close the book you couldn't focus on anyway, lifting your head to glare at him.
"I thought you didn't want to have me around. So shouldn't you be glad if I run?"
"I never said that."
"But you think something is wrong with me and that it was a mistake to bring me here."
You hate the way your voice breaks at the end, turning into a teary sob as fresh tears spill over and slowly run down your cheeks. You don't understand yourself anymore. You don't understand why this bothers you so much, why you are so hurt by his words.
You should be glad if he doesn't want to spend time in your presence! You should be glad if he decides to let you go and fall into the nothingness of eternal sleep! You should even be glad if he decides to send you back to the mortal world as a curse that lives in your family's house!
Anything should be better than being forced to live here in his temple and be bound to him! But here you are with an aching heart and tears running down your cheeks because apparently, somehow, during the last months, you grew attached to Sukuna, and somehow, knowing he thinks you don't belong with him makes your heart break in ways you didn't know before.
Sukuna stares at you, a baffled expression on his beautiful face. The silence stretches on, deafening, suffocating, making you ball your hands helplessly into fists.
But then your husband moves. Sukuna marches towards you with large, sure steps, and before you know what is happening, he grabs you and pulls you up from your armchair and against his tall, broad body.
"That's not what I meant. I apologize for my careless words. There is nothing wrong with you. I am just... surprised by what you do to me."
His words make you lift your head to look up at him, blinking against the tears as his large hand cups your cheek.
"I don't understand, Sukuna. What do I do to you?"
His red eyes flicker with an array of emotions. Regret, pain, longing. He looks so strangely human right now. As if he isn't an almighty God who reigns over this Kingdom of Death and has the final say in the fate of every soul who comes here.
His voice is soft like a caress, low and velvety, but filled with a sadness that surprises you.
"Don't you see? You made a flower of life grow in the depths of the afterlife. When you sing and laugh and hug me with that warm, soft body, there is so much life everywhere around me. I am Death. I am used to being alone. I am used to numbness, to silence, to nothingness. It is part of my punishment. But now you are here, and you fill everything with colors and sounds and warmth. You are a source of light in this eternal darkness. And it... it unsettled me when I saw the extent of your power."
You blink at him in utter astonishment.
"But Sukuna... you are Death. How could you be unsettled by anything? What effect can someone like me even have on you? What power could I ever hold?"
He huffs softly, a sound that reverberates in his broad chest.
"I have existed as Death for eons. And it was always an existence in solitude. It's the irony of being me. Death belongs to life. It is inevitable. And yet, everyone who lives chooses to ignore it. They push it away, they demonize it, they make a taboo of it. I was always just a fearful whisper. I am something the mortals try to pretend doesn't exist until their last moments, when all hope is lost. Their delusion is so strong that I can walk through the middle of a crowded city filled with mortals, and no one will notice me. That's how much they banished me from their existence. I am invisible to them. They can see me only in the moments right before they die."
He stops momentarily as if to let his words sink in while his gleaming red eyes gaze deeply into yours. Something about what he said makes no sense. You frown.
"But... But I.."
"But you saw me. Yes, I know. You weren't supposed to be able to see me. But you did. Do you begin to see what I mean? You talked to me, and I was greatly amused by it but, at the same time, utterly fascinated. Do you think I go around randomly making deals with people? So many beg me in their last moments, but I always ignore their pleas. But you were different. You weren't standing on the threshold between life and death, but you still saw me. That's why I offered a deal to you. I was curious. But I wasn't prepared for what you would do to me. I wasn't prepared for what it would do with me when you talk to me and eat with me and bathe with me or when you kiss me and lay with me and find pleasure in it. I wasn't prepared for what it means to be seen by someone."
Sukuna's thumb brushes gently over your cheek, wiping your tears away while his red eyes gaze deeply into yours. He is a God, yet he is so human now. His words make your chest feel tight, and more tears well up in your eyes. But this time they aren't for you. Those tears are for him.
You realize that you are pressing your body tightly against him, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him. Hugging Death and looking at him with a gaze full of compassion.
"And I will keep seeing you, Sukuna. You aren't just a shadow. You are very real, and you aren't unspeakable or evil."
This makes him raise an eyebrow, his red gaze burning into yours.
"You don't think Death is evil? If you could, wouldn't you bring an end to it? Isn't that the ultimate goal mortals want to achieve? To defeat Death?"
You gulp hard but shake your head, refusing to avert your gaze but instead looking deeply into Sukuna's gleaming red eyes.
"No. You have a right to exist. Death belongs to this world just like life does. Why would anyone value their life if they knew it was everlasting? Many things are so much more special because of their fleeting nature. Your position brings a certain beauty to the world, a certain urgency, that wouldn't be there otherwise. Death can be cruel and unfair. But it belongs to this world. There could be no real value of life without you."
Surprise flickers over his face before it gives way to a pleased expression.
"I knew from the start that you are brave. And maybe fate sent you here to conquer Death after all. You definitely have conquered me."
A smile lifts his lips, so beautiful and flawless that it's not hard to believe that he once was an angel. Red eyes as beautiful as jewels glitter in the soft glow of the candlelight, making your heart flutter.
You look up at Sukuna, reaching out to touch his cheek too. He is so much bigger than you. Tall and broad. Death is standing in front of you, powerful and merciless, and yet you feel no fear anymore. His red eyes are soft when they look at you. His large hand is gentle when it cups your cheek. His voice is full of tenderness when he asks,
"Will you sing for me again?"
You smile at him and nod gently.
He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours several times on the way while your small hands cup his beautiful face, and you kiss him back eagerly.
You sing for him again when you are in bed, and he lies beside you, his hand playing with your hair. You sing even while he undresses you, parting your robe and exposing your naked breasts to him. Your chest heaves, and your voice flutters, but you keep singing even while Sukuna cups one of your breasts with his large hand and squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple.
You keep singing, only interrupted by short, breathy gasps when his hand travels down further and slips between your naked legs. He is so loving tonight. His touch is tender, his large hands surprisingly gentle. Long, strong fingers caress you in a way that makes your whole body fill with heat. He isn't taking from you tonight. He is giving to you.
And you fall apart under his tender touch, spreading your legs for him shamelessly, lifting your hips to press your naked cunt against his hand, letting him feel how wet you are for him and how much you long for his touch.
You only stop singing when you can't form coherent words anymore, and your song turns into needy sobs and loud moans. Your hips buck, and you whine when Sukuna's fingers spread your creamy wetness over your folds and over your pulsing nub that he caresses slowly.
He keeps touching you, keeps caressing that little bundle of nerves that sends shocks of desire through your body, almost overwhelming in its intensity.
Loud gasps of Sukuna's name fall from your lips. The heat and pressure become so intense that you think you can't take it anymore. Your tiny hand's claw at his large one between your legs.
But Sukuna is unrelenting,
"No, let me. Let your husband take care of his beautiful bride."
A loud, raw scream falls from your lips as the pleasure crashes over you in hot, unrelenting waves, and your body arches up, thighs twitching as your swollen nub pulses hotly against Sukuna's large, firm fingers. He keeps rubbing it, slow but firm, and you feel hot wetness gush out of you and over his hand while you scream his name and twitch helplessly in his arms.
He is breathing heavily, his red eyes gleaming as he watches you intently.
"So beautiful for me, my sweet bride."
He pulls his hand away, but only to push your thighs wide apart, exposing your naked, wet heat to his hungry gaze. And his face gets pressed against your soppy cunt, mouth licking up your wet mess. Your hands tangle in his pink hair, tugging on it, crying out as your head falls back on the pillow when your husband pushes his tongue into you and licks and kisses you.
You fall apart for Sukuna that night on his fingers and on his tongue. And when he finally takes you with his cock, it is slow and intense. He faces you this time, kneeling between your spread legs and capturing your lips in a kiss when he sinks down on you and claims you with his thick cock.
He is everything you see and feel, tall and big, a mountain of muscles, and a cock that fills you so completely. He takes you with slow, strong thrusts that make you clutch his muscular back and moan his name while you chase peak after peak of blinding pleasure until you are so exhausted that you fall asleep right there in Sukuna's strong arms while his low voice whispers to you,
"You sing the most beautiful songs for me, my little bird."
"Mortals always say they will love each other until death do them part. What do you think that means for us?"
Sukuna's lips are lifted in an amused grin as he asks you the question.
He is lying next to you, his beautiful naked body laid out for your admiring gaze on top of the dark red silk sheets. His chin is probed up lazily on one large hand as he watches you, letting his gleaming red gaze trail slowly over your equally naked body.
You smile at him, reaching out to run a hand down his muscular arm, tracing his biceps and the black bands around them with your fingertips before they wander to his broad chest. You let your small hand rest there, fingers sprawling over his firm muscles, right where his heart would beat if he were a living being.
"I would say this means nothing and no one can do us part. It means our love will last until the end of time, just like Death will."
Sukuna's large hand lands on top of yours, covering your hand completely under his. He sounds pleased when he murmurs in his low voice,
"My bride is not only brave but also smart."
You laugh softly at his words before you lift your head to look deeply into his eyes.
"Sukuna?"
"Yes, my love?"
"You told me I could sit on a throne next to yours if I like."
His red eyes glitter in the firelight as he cocks his head curiously, a small smug grin lifting the corners of his mouth.
"Yes, I did."
"Is that what you want?"
"It is your choice, but yes, I would like it if you sat next to me."
"Then I will do so."
There is respect in Sukuna's gaze when he gives you a nod to signal that he will set things in motion.
You know this is where you belong. By Sukuna's side.
One day, you will see your mother and your sisters standing in front of your husband's throne of skulls, but you don't fear for their souls. You will sit next to Sukuna when it happens and guide them to eternal peace, where they can finally rest free of all pain and worries.
You are Death's Bride.
You kiss him gently farewell before he leaves for the mortal world to reap the souls of the dying. You greet him with a smile when he returns, hugging him tightly and helping him out of his coat. You wash the blood off him, you kiss him, you talk to him. You fill his dark kingdom with light, just like he said.
And he lets you.
He even laughs softly when another little green sprout fights its way through the rotten soil next to the sea of blood.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I didn't think this story would get so long, but once I started working on it, I got dragged into Sukuna's world and didn't want to leave again. The power he has over me!!
I hope you enjoyed this story!! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!
This is the last story for my Halloween Event 2023! I am so happy that I could write all the stories I wanted! Thank you so much to everyone who read a story (or maybe several) of this event!!
#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna#sukuna smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#sukuna fluff#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#tw dark content
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Team Bonding: JJK students x reader x sukuna Part 3
- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more.
- Premise: Characters are (18+) (Reader is 21) Jujutsu College au where things are the same but they found yuuji/He ate the finger at 18/+ the start of college.
- Yuuji “came back” after two months of “being dead” and you’re in charge of the training for today for the kyoto sister event.
- Sukuna switches with yuuji in this and chaos ensues :/
After was the worst fucking thing in the world. As much as you wished you could have blacked out the reality of it, or at least the hour after but you were wide awake, laying there. Yuuji was the one knocked out, Sukuna had switched back to gave you some time to clean yourself up. (Slapping you awake, reminding you to stay awake bc of your head injuries.)
His deal was that Yuuji doesn’t find out, that whenever he came around, they would show him your homework, and if he wasn’t satisfied with it he would show them what he wanted to see. After what they witnessed, they really couldn’t let that happen again, bc they knew it would be worse if he were to touch you rather than them.
Whenever he did want to get a rise out of you, he’d start eyeing Maki and Nobara, where you roar back to life and have more fight in you. You knew first hand how awful he was, you weren’t going to let him hurt more people.
Yuuji, if he ever finds out, would probably off himself, and we know it’s not his fault so we can’t let that happen either. “You won’t know when I’ll be back, so do your best.” He was fucking sick.
Everyone decided to stay with you, in trios. At night you were with the girls as that didn’t raise suspicion from the RT’s. Sometimes though, the other pairs would volunteer and watch you in your room while you slept during the day, if you ever needed it.
Nobara helps you more often, and tries to help you ground yourself by holding your hand. Her thing now was to lightly apply pressure to the joints of your hands to ground you, until you leaned into her for a hug or pulled away, signaling what was going on in your head.
Maki would always keep a look out. “That was fucking horrific to watch.” She could remember how the Zenin clan were so gross with trying to sell her and her sister off. The older men would look but they didn’t want responsibility for them, let alone chance that they couldn’t chance their own being born without cursed energy. It was more of an insult to be presented Maki, as Mai does have some.
Her own personal feelings weren’t really what was fueling it, the threat of and forced witnessing of mistreatment without being able to do anything… She’ll play his game but never let him touch you again. After speaking with Nobara, you asked to smoke to knock yourself out.
Medicine is the best rn, your body’s healed, but your mental, it was sure something you couldn’t heal. It was a lot in the moment and you’d just want to revert back to your old ways of coping and you knew they’d understand, but they wouldn’t let you.
So just a hit or two, as much as you could hold in, until your lungs burned, that it spread up to your throat and seared your nostrils. It was a really dry cough, and you were a mess, your eyes tearing and spit was caught in your sleeve, and you tried to wipe your running nose too. These hits were the ones where you didn’t look, somehow that helped you take in more air. Maybe it was better concentration, in this case you just wanted to be unconscious.
After they put the piece away, and asked if you wanted help in the bath. You could feel the tension as your confident, abrasive and loud self was unblinking, staring out to nothing. You had just gotten back to your rooms as Gojo came back a little bit too late, where he found you were sitting with a thousand yard stare.
The others were so quiet, and Yuuji knocked out on the floor, he could only come to the conclusion, “Did I miss out on a really crazy fight or something?” No one responded. “Wow,” He places a hand behind his head, looking at the dim crowd. “Okay… Well, class is dismissed for today. Can someone help me bring Yuuji to Shoko? Megumi? Thanks.”
Megumi broke out of his shell shock and looked down at his friend. That look told Gojo something, but the Honored One wasn’t interested in his students’ relationships (when they’re all seemingly fresh into the drama). He’ll wait or bug it out of his somewhat son. Megs got Yuuji on his back, acting like his friend was more hurt than let on. You knew Megs was in a tough spot, and he was acting his BEST, in front of Gojo no less. He couldn’t lie unless it was jokingly, and even that was rare.
________________________________________________________
Maki helps you stand in the shower, she’s in her underwear to help you make it more comfortable. She knew to keep testing out the water before realizing you were getting lost in your dizzy spur as Nobara comes in with her phone.
“Nobara.” Your friend held you up and pulls you into her. “What are you doing?”
“It sounds heartless,” She started. “But I thought if we took pictures now, it’d give (y/n) more time away from Sukuna.” Maki’s hold on you loosened a bit, going back to grab at the loofa and pumping body soap onto it. Nobara continued. “I was going over our options and honestly, who knows what he’ll do next. I don’t even-“
Maki sighs loudly, asking her to stop talking. There was a pause, letting Maki think further into this. “It’s up to (y/n).”
“It’s really not.” You thought. This whole situation wouldn’t be happening if you could even let it. “Nothing after this is going to be mine. Everything was given away in front of everyone, your entire being bare, your most vulnerable just out in daylight. You couldn’t even be glad it was just in front of your friends, what if strangers saw, or your professors, and what if they couldn’t help you too?
Maki held you and had you lean your weight on her. Nobara grit her teeth, she wanted to ask you what you wanted but obviously this was the best solution. It wasn’t to save herself, it wasn’t to save just you either. Everyone’s lives were at risk because of this horny demon.
But really, blackmail? That’s what it’s come to. That’s really the only thing that could get your people to turn on you. You thought they knew you better, that you’d rather choose to die than let the humiliation continue. Maybe it was because you missed your chance to voice your opinion, of your own body, of the situation you staggered in not so long ago.
The shock though, the over exertion of using your reversed curse technique really was a challenge, You usually hold off the healing until after, showing off once again. The pain would make you feel alive, and let them know they were landing their punches and hits. You eye at the shower handle, to make the water temperature hotter.
Burning, you wanted to feel clean. You wanted to have your skin melt off like a layer of wax. The places on the outside where he’s touched, honestly chop them off. You would rather have a meat cleaver cut them clean off than have any more blood pulsate under your violated skin. And the pit in your stomach, it wasn’t even a pit anymore you were sick, he left sick in you and it was spreading. Your head hurt, your vulva and the actual cylinder that makes up your core, you wanted to cut it out, or shove a hot metal rod inside to cauterize the wound, or to clean the area with fire.
Or maybe even you’d eat the rod, have it melt through your neck as you have a few seconds of searing bliss. But instead you’ll have to be okay with the hot water of the shower. Nobara notices your eyes and tells Maki that you’re cold, and to get started so they could help you to bed faster.
The water that hit your chest was at a steady pressure, the temp rising an your skin started to blotch and turn pinker. Your body was tingling and the hot water was almost getting you to feel your body again. it was almost comforting but it just wasn’t engulfing you like you needed. You needed a feeling to wash this all away. And sure the weed was helping but at the same time, it was still so soon.
“(Y/n), I’m going to start now okay?” Maki said behind you. Her left arm was keeping you up and letting you lean onto her leg, her right hand is on your right side, making its way down your waist and she lightly places her hand on your butt. You don’t really mind this, until her fingers came close to your entrance. Your legs lightly moved closing together. “Hey,” You look up at Nobara, who was recording. “Please (y/n), let us help you.”
You lower your gaze, looking away defeated, you slightly open your knees, letting Maki in but not wanting to. Her finger made itself known around your core, before she tapped you twice to let you know that she was going in. Her finger plunged into you slowly, just in and out. Your body shook with the sudden movement. “Sorry.” You both say.
She digs in deep again but keeps her finger in, it was really weird honestly. This was your friend? And your other was also “helping”? But they seem so disgusted. You didn’t like this. You wanted them to praise you, you wanted them to think you were awesome and the best and super cool. Why was this so awful? Why was this so awkward and cruel?
They switch, Nobara is taking her fingers out of you and you can feel it come out, while maki takes her now wet clothes off and positions the camera to help clean up your face. Nobara’s holding you up in the shower, digging her fingers as deeply as she could, but as gently too to not hurt you, or make you more uncomfortable than you already are. Maki comes back in, placing her hands on your hips, moving your wet hair from the nape of your neck.
They know you don’t like small talk, and they had nothing to say. There was nothing to joke about, nothing to bring up or gossip about, no silly joke or new grand idea to tackle in the future. For once you all were stunned into the present, facing something that they can’t control the progress of. Nobara lifts her head up to look at you; If you did look back at her, then there was something worth saving, something she knew would still be a part of you is just waiting there, for this to all go away, and she was right. If you hadn’t looked, you were worse than dead’ according to your old beliefs.
Nobara finishes feeling around inside, cleaning out her friend’s cum from your hole. The hot water was enough to wash most of it away, the slimy feeling was just something you almost couldn’t bring yourself to just scoop out. Maki’s lightly circling the loofa around your back, avoiding the bruised spots until she can help it. Her touch was so nice you thought, but this was getting too much for you.
She had her fingers spreading you open while the bubbles from your shoulders come down and create a soapy sight.
The shorter girls eyes looked at you with despair, her older classman who would do anything by themselves is needing two of their closest friends to wash them after an assault. She thought she would see one of y’all die before a man could lay their hands on either of you. She pulls her hand away, wiping the slime onto her leg to get washed off. She just wanted to get you out of this haze, and didn’t know what else to do but lean forward, and gently start to kiss you.
You don’t know if it was from guilt of not being able to help, and this was her way of healing, maybe she liked you for a while and this is her chance or her feelings are overflowing after seeing such an event, but either way, Nobara Kugisaki, your underclassman of a year was semi naked and wet, kissing you in the shower.
Maki on the other hand, was trying to keep you both up. She noticed Nobara trying to soothe you since they had to invade your space, and she let her hand go back down. Using two fingers to search for any remains of Yuuji/Sukuna in you, she wipes away the last bits she found and let it run. She was about to stop when Nobara’s hand shot out and grabbed Maki. Her eyes told her to go back to what she was doing before, saying how you were gasping while kissing Nobi.
She wants you to actually feel good, and have your last orgasm be less traumatic, so they were gong to help you with that before bed. They weren’t going to let your rapist be the last person to touch you, much less be the last person you think about. They’re here for you, and they were going to help you cum.
Maki’s long fingers graced the line on your back before tracing the sides of your hips. Your lips were still locked with Nobara’s your hands finding energy enough to cup at her face gingerly. You could feel her silently speaking to Maki and you didn’t care what was going on now. The weed was hitting, the steam from the shower was creating an even dizzier environment and your anxieties were washed away with the cum that stained you.
Her steady pumping brought a blush to your face, not that your body was already red from the scorching hot water. You were honestly glad women were helping you as it would probably end u into a second panic if you were to have “woken up” in a scene like this. Her fingers were more than enough, and having to kiss your mutual friend altogether, semi to fully naked, all cramped up in this shower stall? The realization had you cum around maki’s fingers and groaning into Nobara’s mouth, they had to hold you up as your orgasm knocked out your knees from under you.
Maki wiggles her fingers, pressing on your sweet spot, drawing your orgasm to a crescendo as she soothes you by kissing the back of your neck. Nobi’s lightly kissing at your chest and collarbone, keeping u balanced and letting you ride out the feeling as long as they could keep it. As you shook in their arms, you panted out as the feeling started to fade, now being able to stand on your own. It’s been a few hours since you’ve found your head again, and it pained you to see your girls were crying.
You con’t know if it was the whole time, but their eyes were red and pleading for your forgiveness. “I’m sorry.” They sob. “I’m so sorry.”
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x you#x reader#dark jjk#tw#tw dark content#taaotjjk#taaottw#tw dark content jjk#maki zenin x reader#maki zenin#nobara kugisaki#jjk nobara#jujutsu kaisen nobara#nobamaki#jjk maki#maki x reader#maki x you#maki x nobara#nobara x reader#nobara x you#nobara x maki
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Exception
Dark!Geto Suguru x reader
5.8k wc
Synopsis: You never bothered with Suguru's crush on you, knowing it would fade. After meeting him again years later, you make the horrible discovery that his feelings for you have only festered.
(Warnings: yandere, dark content, murder of a side character, slight gore, violence, rape/noncon, vaginal fingering, piv sex, unsafe sex)
When you were in your first year of college, you got a part-time job at a nearby cafe.
It was easy work. Make coffee. Bake some pastries. Attend to the customers. Nothing too unmanageable. It was an insignificant part of your life.
Then, Gojo and Geto came along.
Insufferably annoying. Especially, the loud one. They always caused a havoc in the cafe, often to the point where the manager had to physically kick them out. It was a turbulent two weeks, until one day you promised them if they kept it down, you'd let them try a few of your experimental pastries.
Really, it was your own damn fault. They started coming every day after that, mostly to bother you. The only reason management hadn't outright banned them was probably because Gojo made 50% of their entire revenue.
You warmed up to them eventually. Your fake smiles turned into more amused ones because of their antics. Once or twice, they'd get a good laugh out of you. You've heard rumors of a private, religious highschool nearby. You always assumed they were a byproduct of that.
Eventually, Gojo becomes Satoru. Geto becomes Suguru. Nice kids, if not a bit overzealous. Despite refusing to hang out with them after work, you had to admit, you grew a bit attached to them. You found yourself asking about their day, hiding sweets for the two of them, sometimes you'd even let them steal a croissant or two.
You bet the reason they hung around you was because, to them, you were some cool college student. Secretly, you found it a little flattering. Some days, their friendship was the highlight of your shift. It's clear Satoru is always the instigator, always looking like he's about to bounce off the walls (you have told him to lay off the sugar), it's not like Suguru was any better. He tried to act like he was the more refined part of the friendship. He often fails, at least in your eyes.
It becomes pretty apparent that Suguru had a crush on you. You're not sure when exactly you started to notice the bashful looks, the slight flush on his cheeks whenever you accidentally brush his hand, the fact that he visits far more often (even though Satoru has the sweet-tooth) but you can't unsee it now. It doesn't help that Satoru looks downright giddy whenever his friend talks to you, barely controlling his giggles in the background. His reaction and Suguru's irritation often start a few skirmishes right outside the cafe doors. You've told them multiple times to take their fights in the alley at least. They never listened.
For his sake, you don't acknowledge it, already knowing what it is. A schoolyard crush. Harmless, it'll pass. Eventually, when you're a distant memory to them, Satoru will tease him about it and Suguru will give a playful elbow nudge. Much to your relief, Suguru doesn't pull you to the side and confess. He's refined, in that way, never giving too much until you have the evidence and clues yourself.
It continued like that for months. And then, something changed.
They stopped coming around as much. Daily visits turned weekly. Weekly turned to every so often. Their energy felt off too. Satoru seemed the same as always, if not a bit more mellowed out. It was Suguru you mainly worried for. Each time he returned, he looked worse and worse. Darker circles. Eyes filled with exhaustion.
You pull him aside eventually, asking if anything is going on, asking if he's okay, asking if he wants to talk. As sincerely as you can, you tell him that you're here for him. He at least attempts to smile at that. When you press, he shakes his head.
"It's nothing," you both know he's lying, "it's just....it's nice to see that there is one exception."
A little while after that, they stop coming entirely. You notice, but you aren't able to focus on it. School gets harder, you're cutting back your work to focus on it. You don't even recognize Satoru at first when he walks in nearly a year later.
He's different. So much taller. Despite being a few years younger than you...he doesn't feel like a kid anymore. An easygoing smile is pulled on his face when he sees you, giving a lazy wave. You return it, though a bit hesitant. He talks to you as though no time has passed at all, asking what you made for him this time. He talks fast. His voice is too laid back. Too casual. Like he's avoiding something. You think you know what.
"Where's Suguru?" you ask when you glance behind Satoru for the third time, "I haven't seen him around lately."
He freezes, like he's been dreading that question ever since he came in. Finally, he shrugs, making a noncommital hum. His sunglasses obscure his eyes but it isn't enough to hide how cold he suddenly turned. Satoru seems to realize that too. His answer is pulled by reluctance.
"We don't talk anymore." He doesn't say anything more. You don't need him to.
When he pulls out his wallet, you tell him it's on the house. He looks at you then. His mouth opens, searching for the right words. He waits too long. His mask slips back into place.
Gojo grins at you, painfully fake.
"Take care of yourself, will ya?"
You never see him again after that. You know it's your fault.
You think about them every so often when you can, Suguru especially. He rests in the back of your mind like an old piece of furniture you can't bring yourself to throw out. Suguru sometimes haunts your dreams with his darkened eyes and the pure brokenness on his face. For some reason, you think you failed him somehow. You felt like you could have done more. Maybe, if you'd tried harder to reach out, things would have been different. Two boys wouldn't be utterly heartbroken.
Years pass by. You quit working at the cafe. You graduate college. You move cities. You get a job. Eventually, you settle into a nice apartment. You forget all about your days in that quaint little restaurant, your attention hogged by a couple of annoying high schoolers. You don't think about Satoru for years. You don't think about Suguru for years.
Until one day, when he calls your name in the street.
He was bigger now, towering over you with broad shoulders. His hair was longer, darker too, less of a green, more black. He's ditched his school uniform, trading it for a more casual outfit. It's his face that makes you hesitate before you use your voice, that same smile, physically at least. He looks the same, but then he doesn't.
"...Suguru?" It's a question because you're still not sure.
He smiles wider.
"Long time, huh?"
Somehow, your reunion culminates in a restaurant. You still feel out of it, somehow, like you're watching yourself in an out-of-body experience. Between the food and him, you're not sure if you can even believe it.
He tells you he heads a temple now. A pious man. You shouldn't be surprised, considering his education, but you never knew he was so invested in religion. The two of you converse about other meaningless things. The conversation becomes less stilted. More sincere. You learned your lesson from last time. You don't bring up Satoru unless he does.
Much to your disappointment, he doesn't.
Compared to yours, his life is so crazy. Not just with the temple. Suguru tells you he's a father now too. Adopted two little girls. He's barely 22. You can barely hold your disbelief, shaking your head as you take another sip of your coffee.
"In any case," you say when the conversation draws to a lull, "I'm just really glad you're happy, Suguru. You deserve it."
When Suguru gives you a questioning look, you continue.
"The last time we saw each other, you looked miserable."
His eyes widen in realization before a laugh bubbles out of his throat. Deep, rich like chocolate.
"Back then, I was going through a lot." He sighs. "I was figuring out what I wanted. It...it was a tough time for me."
You nod along, hoping you aren't forcing him to pry. However, the Suguru you're faced with now doesn't seem like that type of person anymore. He won't give if you press. He talks on his own terms. You never once thought of him as a pushover, but he's less open now. Perhaps it's because he's no longer a child.
Suguru smiles then, a little more sincere than his first.
"You know...I've always wanted to thank you."
You tilt your head. "What for?"
He plays with his empty cup like he's searching for the answer himself. "You gave me hope when no one else did. Everyone was so quick to tell me if I was wrong or right."
He leans back on his chair, eyes drifting towards the ceiling, "Other humans, they're always so enraptured by their own lives. You were the only person who reached out. At least, who cared enough to."
The guilt from years ago slipped back into your throat. So he had been suffering. You should have done more. He was just a kid. They both had been. You could have done something. Maybe you could have saved a little more.
His hand finds yours on the table. They're rough, calloused. You can feel the scars. He squeezes your fingers.
"Thank you," he murmurs, "For being an exception."
You squeeze back.
It's a tumultuous friendship, at first. It's much like a burn. Sensitive, it hurts at first. The wound is too fresh. Eventually, dead skin and memories fade away. You find yourself texting him. Once a week. Maybe a little more, if you get brave enough.
Once, he sends you a picture of a white cat lounging in a sunbeam.
looks like Satoru, he types.
(You stare at the caption for a long longer than necessary.)
It does, you send back.
You visit his temple once. He invited you, actually. A free tour, he had joked. It was beautiful. A large expansive garden filled with all types of flowers. The courtyard felt like it stretched for miles. That was just the outskirts of the temple. The building was something else entirely. A large ceiling. Expansive walls. White pillars that keep going higher and higher and higher.
You notice his followers are everywhere. Most carry the same smile on their face. Bright, happy, cheery, but too strained. Like it's a job for them. It feels weird to say, but he fits nicely here. You think that because this wasn't the place you thought Suguru would end up. He dons the traditional clothing perfectly. Like they were made for him. They probably were, considering how high his reputation was.
If he hadn't had the same face, the same hair color. You wouldn't have recognized him at all. He's managed to replace every single thing in his life with something new. It doesn't go unnoticed by you that you're the only thing he keeps from the past. A momento of sorts. You're a keepsake, for him. You don't mind the symbolism. You've always been easily flattered.
You just failed to realize that not all of his feelings had changed.
It was in front of your house. After, yet another visit to the temple (much at Suguru's insistence), he'd offered to walk you home. You would have declined if it wasn't so dark out. In the end, you accept his offer.
"The girls have come to like you," Suguru says after a lull of pleasant silence. When you glance at him, you find his eyes on you.
"Have they?" you prod.
In all honestly, you didn't think they liked you at all at first. You don't have that much experience with young children, but you found it odd how unnerved Nanako and Mimiko seemed to get around you, practically hiding behind their father's figure, peeking out with untrusting eyes. Suguru had to gently coax them out with soft words, insisting that you were a close friend of his, you were 'different'.
"Yes, they talk about you all the time," he continues, rolling his eyes in affection, "Mimiko especially gets very animated."
Your heart skips a beat at his answer. You never felt one way or the other about children, but it felt nice when two little girls felt so highly about you. Those two especially.
"It must be from all the sweets I bribed them with," you say, jokingly, "Please tell me I didn't cause them any stomach aches."
He laughs, light and pretty.
"It's not that," he responds, "it's because of you, mostly. You're different from the others."
You smile, but it's half-hearted, an attempt more than anything. It takes you a while for you to work up for the question. For some reason, you feel a bit nervous, like you're stepping on something you shouldn't be.
"Different," you start, "you keep saying that. What does that mean? What am I different from?"
He stops, just at the entrance of your flat. Suguru's fingers drum on his pants. You stare at him. He stares right back.
"You are different, in so many different ways," he says, though it feels as though he's speaking to himself, rather than you.
He takes a step forward. Tiny, he barely even moved. And yet, the distance between the two of you has vanished completely.
"You've always been. Different from everyone else. The only one." You can't tell if he cut himself off, or if there was truly nothing else to say.
It was barely a kiss. His lips brushed against yours, barely touching. Soft, like he cherished you the most out of all his possessions. The gentleness of it all is enough for you to freeze.
Then his hand curls around your waist, and you jolt back into your body.
You splay your hands on his chest, pushing him away until you have enough momentum to step back. His loose hold on you falls away. You can't look at him, even when you can feel his stare burn into you.
"Suguru," you say, because you're mind is still running to catch up to your heart, "I-we-"
Your name being called stops your babbling. You don't think he saw, god you hoped he hadn't. When you look over, he's smiling, so you don't think he did. He was never one to hide his feelings. Still, you step away from Suguru, ignoring how stiff the man had become.
"Hey," you say, mostly out of relief because you couldn't deal with this anymore. When he wraps you into a hug and a chaste kiss, you wordlessly accept. Suguru's gaze on your back only gets stronger.
"Who's this?" he asks, gesturing at Suguru. Your smile falters as you glance at Suguru. His face was blank. He wasn't even smiling anymore as he continued to stare at your man.
"A friend," you say before Suguru can make this already worse, "and he was just leaving."
"Oh," he says, before smiling down at you. Delightfully oblivious.
"We'll talk later, okay Suguru?" You send Suguru a hurried smile before dragging him into your shared flat.
You lock the door behind you. He says something just then, you laugh, trying so hard not to sense Suguru's presence through the door. You don't think he leaves. Not for a good long while.
You don't speak to Suguru, after that.
You wince whenever you see his name through your contact list now, as though even seeing a remnant of him is painful. You don't go to the temple anymore. Your communication with the girls turns nonexistent.
Suguru hasn't said anything to you either. The line has grown dead both ways.
You feel guilty, even though you know it wasn't your fault, you still can't help but wonder if you could have done something different. Did you do something that made him think you were interested? You probably had, knowing how unaware you could be, sometimes. You couldn't help but feel ecstatic when the two of you reconnected again. You'd been so excited for Suguru, happy for him because he'd finally found his way. You didn't know he still liked you after all these years. It was a schoolyard crush, at least, it was supposed to be.
Looking back, you didn't think you'd even told Suguru that you were already seeing someone. One blunder after a blunder.
It must have been embarrassing for him, you can't help but think. Even when he was younger, Suguru had always held onto his pride dearly. You don't know if your friendship could ever be the same after this, but you'd like to extend the olive branch. If he'd take it.
You tell your boyfriend about the incident eventually. You know it's not your fault, but you still feel like it is. He takes it well, once you explain, looking at you sweetly.
"I could tell something was going on between you and him," he says, "but thanks for telling me."
"You aren't mad?" you ask, half-afraid of the answer.
"At you? Course not. Him, however"- he made a swing motion with his fist "-he does something like that again and I'll punch his lights out."
You laugh, knowing it's a joke, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He beams.
It takes a week of radio silence to forget about the mishap. You're humming a song you've forgotten the lyrics to when you arrive at your apartment. Your boyfriend said that he was coming home early tonight. You'd planned something quiet for the evening. A movie, cheap drinks.
"Welcome home." Suguru grins. You freeze.
He sits on the couch, splayed out like he belonged there. He's not wearing his priest garment, now garbed with a simple shirt and jeans. It takes a minute for you to figure out what you're looking at. Slowly, you close the door behind you.
"Hey," you say, hoping your tone doesn't indicate just off-put by this encounter you are.
Suguru doesn't seem to mind your reluctance.
"He let me in." Suguru points to somewhere behind you. Oh, your boyfriend is probably in the bathroom. "He was such a nice man. You were very lucky."
"Thank you," you find yourself saying, "I am."
His smile grows bigger, and you wonder if there's a joke you aren't let in on. Like he's saying something that's going right above your head.
When you take a glance behind you, your partner is nowhere to be seen. It makes you wonder if you should say something to Suguru right now. Mend the bridge that's shattered between you. Currently, he seemed to be in a good mood.
"Suguru," you start, taking a tiny step forward. You twiddle with your fingers.
"Listen, I'm really sorry for how things went the last time we met. I just-" He hushes you, putting a finger to his lips.
"You shouldn't air out your affairs in front of him like that," he tells you, "you might hurt his feelings."
What? You look behind you again. Nothing.
Suguru laughs. It sounds off. Wordlessly, he points behind you again but angles his finger a tiny bit higher. You follow his direction.
Immediately, you wish you hadn't.
He's in pieces, scattered all over the ceiling. A hand is above the door, a leg is above the kitchen. It's like his appendages were chopped before being glued onto the ceiling. There's no blood, just body parts.
The worst part was that he was still alive. His head was still attached to his torso, the only part of him that was still intact. His mouth was open, his eyes were wide, and it took you a second that he was trying to tell you something. Repeating a word over and over.
Run.
Your hand covers your mouth as you continue to stare up at him. What was left of him. You think your knees are threatening to give before Suguru's holding you up. You can feel him lead you towards the couch, sitting you down in the plush mattress. He curls an arm around you, letting out a sigh.
"I meant what I said." Suguru adjusts your hair. "He was such a nice man, for a monkey anyway."
It doesn't occur to you that Suguru had done this until he speaks. You'd known Suguru said he performed exorcisms in his temple. You didn't-you couldn't-
"You?" you can barely push the wavering words out, "you-how-Suguru-"
He hushes you, drawing you closer to his body. You're completely dwarfed by him as he rests his head on your neck, breathing in your scent. You are barely coherent, sucking in air as your voice dissolves into sobs.
"I would have liked it if things hadn't turned out this way," he sighs, "but I don't believe it would have turned out any differently."
His tone is almost pitying.
"You may be the exception, but you are still one of them. Unaware of the true hierarchy." Suguru hums.
"That's alright. It wasn't your fault. You were simply born this way," he continues, "I don't mind teaching you."
You wiggle, trying your hardest to get out of his grip. Suguru only clicks his tongue. A harsh grip on your waist is enough to still you. You can't understand what's going on, maybe you never will, but you know one thing. You let a monster back into your life. Geto Suguru was not the same person you knew when you were younger.
Or perhaps, he was always this way. He was just better at hiding it, back then.
"I'm sorry," you finally let out, "Suguru, I'm-I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever-whatever you want. Anything just please please please-"
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for him," Suguru doesn't sound too apologetic, "though, I could put him out of his pain. Would you like that?"
You didn't need him to elaborate. Suguru would kill him. Or perhaps he was already dead. His moving eyes, his twitching lips, were all just muscle memory. The last of his brain synapses. There was no science, no magic, that could bring him back from this.
And maybe, that tiny selfish part of you wanted to stop seeing his mangled body.
You nod and you can feel Suguru's grin. He snaps his fingers. The thing disappears, vanishes into mist.
"All gone!" Suguru declares. "There. Isn't that better?"
You wince when he touches your face, brushing away the tears. You're too scared to do anything more. You don't fight when he kisses your neck. You don't fight when he kisses your jaw. You don't fight when he kisses your lips.
It's with the same gentleness as the last time he'd kissed you, right outside of your apartment. Soft, warm, loving.
You start sobbing then. Ugly, heaving, heartbroken. He takes it in stride, humming as he pushes your body down until your back is pressed on the couch. His lips brush your damp cheek.
"There's no need to be afraid." Through your tears, you can see him smiling down at you. "The worst has passed. I'll take care of you from now on."
The worst part about all of this is how honest he sounds. Like he truly believes he's doing this for your good. It makes you wonder who the delusional one is. Him or you.
He's tuts in sympathy as you lay there, shivering underneath him.
"You must be so confused, poor thing." He tilts his head, the back of his fingers stroking your cheeks. "I should explain, shouldn't I? Unfortunately, I'm more interested in other things right now."
You must look horrible, but Suguru doesn't seem to mind, bending down, melding your lips with his. He sighs, like he'd waited eons for this. You stiffen when you feel his hands play with the band of your skirt. As if he can feel your beginnings of struggle, he pulls back, staring you down. Brown, almost black, eyes peer down at you. There's a hint of a warning curling on his lip.
You still immediately. If he could do that, what could he do to you?
"None of that," he chides, and yet he's so painfully gentle about it, "be good."
What was he? How did he do this? How could he? You want to ask them all but you can only get one out when you lift your head, getting your voice to work.
"Why?"
You don't know what you're asking. He clearly does. Another soft smile. You wish you could tear it off his face.
"You were always the exception, even back then," He says quietly into the stale air of the apartment. His eyes drift and you wonder if he's remembering the you all those years ago, secretly passing pastries to him and Satoru, giggling at jokes only a highschooler could make. "The only one of the humans who didn't utterly disgust me."
Fingers reach for the hem of your skirt, pushing it up your bare legs.
"And it's natural, isn't it? To protect the exceptions, the rarities of the world," he says, "To keep them away from the impure."
You start crying again. He patiently hushes you, kissing away your tears. This time, you don't bother putting up a fight. You just squeeze your eyes closed, flinching when he reaches to your inner thighs, feeling the cotton of your panties. His breath hitches. So does yours.
He bypasses the cloth with two dexterous fingers. When he touches the skin, you flinch, trying to squeeze your thighs closed. It doesn't help. Suguru leans forward, you can feel his breath on your cheek as you shiver underneath him. He finds your clit, teasing it with a calloused thumb. You think you're mouthing it, even when you can't bring yourself to say it. Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me.
He doesn't listen. You don't know if he heard it or not. It didn't matter, either way. It wasn’t like he was planning to stop.
Despite how much you don’t want this, your body doesn’t listen. His touch is gentle, soothing on your pussy despite the horrors you’ve seen him do. It doesn’t take long for your cunt to adjust, dripping.
There’s a satisfied sigh above you and you know Suguru had felt it too.
One finger pushes into you. You gasp, curling your back, unprepared but Suguru’s giving a pleasant hum, easing you into it. Despite how humiliating this entire situation is, your one reprieve is being able to bury your head into his neck, keeping yourself there as he continues to have his way with your body. You can feel him kiss the crown of your head, an action that completely juxtapositions another finger entering your wet hole.
He’s gentle, but not slow. He fingerfucks you with earnestness, curling his fingers when your walls tighten around him. Your crying is interrupted by the reluctant moans and gasps every time he presses deeper into you, finding a spot that has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. You bit your lip, keeping the noises inward. He tuts at that.
“Don’t be shy,” he coos in your ear, “it’s okay to enjoy it. I want you to.”
As if to highlight his words, he gives another particularly intense push, you wince when you can hear the wet squelch of his fingers.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Suguru asks, “I could always be this nice with you.” You let out a squeak when his thumb presses against your clit, unable to keep it in. Suguru gives a breathy laugh.
His other hand starts to explore, reaching up to your button-up, flicking them off with a single-experienced hand. The bra you wore is barely seductive, but Suguru’s tracing the ends of it anyway, touching the fabric just by your skin before pushing the undergarment down.
Whether it’s from the air or his fingers fucking your pussy, your tits are already sensitive. You let out a breathy whine when Suguru grips on of them too hard, squeezing the fat in his large hands.
“So sweet for me.” You can hear the smile on his lips.
Everything becomes too much, and before you can think, your hand is shooting down, grabbing onto his wrist, squeezing as hard as you can, your nails digging into his skin. Your other is pushing against his shoulder. He barely seemed to even notice, holding you down with his weight, thrusting in his fingers all the way to the knuckle.
“Suguru I-” It’s supposed to be another plea for him to stop, but your weak voice calling out his name only seems to excite him further. His thumb dances on your swollen clit, his fingers never relenting until he’s pushing you higher and higher until you fall.
White hot electric pleasure snaps within you, forcing your body to jolt, as you curl up from the sofa. You think he’s saying something, words of comfort as though he could be any crueler, but you’re not listening. You came so hard you almost forget where you are, who you’re with. You can feel Suguru watching until you fall against the cushion again, utterly spent. Your grip slackens against his wrist, before falling away completely.
“See? Didn’t I say I’ll take care of you?” You don't even have the energy to glare at him.
He’s giving another laugh, kissing your cheek before he’s leaning back. His fingers slip out of you, and then there’s a sucking sound. You can’t help it, blinking open your eyes. Suguru stares back at you, eyes half-mast, a pink tongue flicking out to lick at his fingers before he puts them in his mouth completely, swallowing down the evidence of your orgasm. A lewd moan escapes him, muffled. You once again wished you hadn’t looked.
You’re already expecting it, but you still flinch when you hear the zipper loud and clear. He moves his jeans low enough to pull out his cock. He’s already hard, a bead of precum right at the tip as he gives a few cursory pumps. He’s big, you blearily realize. Despite the mind-numbing orgasm he’d just given you, you doubt it’d be enough to even take him.
“It won’t fit,” you find yourself whispering.
Suguru just hums in acknowledgement, giving you a knowing look as he finishes tugging off your panties. The fabric slides off your shaking leg before dropping onto the carpeted floor.
It’s too late for a fight, but you’re rising anyway, pressing your hands against the cushions, trying to create some space. Suguru is quick to shut it down again, leaning back into you as he palms himself some more.
“You’ll be alright,” he assures but it doesn’t help the panic the fear in your soul, “I cherish you too much to break you.”
With little effort, he spreads your thighs. His cock rubs against you once, twice, before entering your throbbing pussy.
Already it’s too much. He’s thick, stretching out your walls, threatening to rip you in half. You close your eyes again, squeezing them shut as the pain starts to edge a little too close to bloody. Helpless, your hand finds his shoulder, not pushing but digging your nails into his shirt. He purrs when you grip him tighter, moving until he’s seated fully into you.
He stays like that, keeping himself there as your walls squeeze him tighter. It’s almost a relief that it ended, but now, he’s taken everything.
“Look at me.”
His voice is rough, almost a rasp, an order. You find yourself obeying. Through your tears, you blink up at him, finding his gaze.
He stares down at you, a look of satisfaction in his eyes and you don’t think you are yours anymore.
He pulls back, your cunt tries to suck him back in, but he drags his cock out anyway until only his head is barely inside.
“Perfect,” Suguru murmurs as though it’s a secret not even you should hear, “absolutely perfect.”
You cry out when he pushes back in. It’s a gentle pace, slow and steady like he’s easing you into it. He’s being kind, you finally realize, a thought that makes your skin crawl. It’s so much worse than if he had been nasty. Harsh and biting with thrusts that would make your body sore and weak afterwards. If he was abusive, not caring about you, just his own pleasure. You wish Suguru was being mean, being cruel. At least then, you wouldn’t like it.
Despite the unexpected size, your body is adjusting. Pain ripples into reluctant pleasure, numbing your mind as his hips meet yours. It gets even worse when Suguru leans down, biting and sucking at your tits, enough for there to leave a mark. Something that will bruise and remind you of what he did.
“You don’t know how long I wanted this,” he’s saying somewhere above you but your head is swimming and you can’t focus where you want to, “how long I’ve wanted you like this.”
Suguru sits up again, grabbing one of your legs, hiking your hips up so his cock can go that much deeper inside of you. You babble something that you yourself can’t decipher. Suguru’s lips curl into another painfully soft smile.
“Ever since highschool,” he’s confessing like he’s a sinner and you’re his God but you know that isn’t true because what sort of god would be humiliated like this? “Remember that apron you wore?”
His hand reaches over, spreading over your pussy, stretching the fatty part of your cunt so he can have a better view of him disappearing inside of you.
“I always wondered what you’d look like wearing nothing but that on, spread out on the counter for me.”
He flicks your clit, and for the second time that day, you can feel yourself crashing. As though he can sense it, his thrusts shorten, grinding against your pussy and there’s a hand catching your chin, forcing you to look.
Suguru’s smile is gone, replaced by a snarl that promises to eat you alive. His eyes are blown wide, and he’s gritting his teeth, barely holding control by a hair.
“Come for me.”
You’re too far gone to do anything but listen.
You stutter in his grasp, arching your back, cumming with a breathy whine. It’s like a tide, pushing you out into sea, refusing to take you in. Unconsciously, the leg he holds tightens around his waist as you pulse around his cock.
He follows after, barely holding himself together, not when your cunt is milking him for all its’ worth. There’s a few particularly harsh thrusts before something warm and sticky fills your battered pussy before he's falling into you, pressing your body against the soft cushions.
You lay there, panting with him on top of you. Slowly, you come back to yourself, feeling your arms your legs. Your brain resets, and you’re suddenly remembering that you have a murderer’s cock inside of you.
Suguru’s face is buried in your neck. He gives a shaky kiss to your jaw; another on the corner of your lips. You can only stare at the ceiling, where the remnants of a body used to be.
"You know, the girls have always wanted a mother," Suguru's saying into your skin.
"I'm sure they will be very pleased with my choice."
#yandere#yandere jjk#x reader#dark content#dark jjk#non con touching#tw:noncon#dark geto suguru#yandere geto suguru#tw:gore
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for the blessings megumi zine ! like 2 years ago at this point,,, still vvv proud of this though ! super fun project super cool zine <3
#my art#jjk#megumi fushiguro#megumi#jujutsu kaisen#fanart#jjk fanart#zines#i am looking at the dogs and all the blood sweat and tears i put into their fur....#only fr kuro to get completely obliterated in print fr his colours being too dark :<#all that work and what did it get me why did i do it#its ok u can see details here its ok cope cope cope
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Satoru making it fit with his cute lil stepsis . . . ꨄ︎
⤹ "Can't, 'toru, 's too much !" you whine, pulling at the bedsheets as you look down at Satoru who's slowly inching himself in.
"Shh... Shh, baby, 's barely the tip," he laughs, his hand gently caressing your tear stained cheek. You squirm, throwing your head from side to side, your lower lip trembling and fixed into a pout.
"C-Can- *hic* can't do it, 'toru... 's too big, won' fit!" You tell him as your other hand begins to tug at his white short sleeve t-shirt, tears still falling from your lash line even though it's been almost ten minutes of him trying to make it fit.
"s why we'll make it fit, dolly," Satoru gently slides his fat cock into your warm, tight cunt and you're already gassping and whining at the intensity.
"toru, 's so big!" You gasp, mouth formed into a sweet "O" shape, your other hand now flying to his other sleeve.
"I know, but you can take it, yeah? Take it like a good girl for your big stepbrother."
#tw dark content#tw stepcest#tw sex#jjk smut#gojo smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#gojo x you
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tw dark content heavy infantilization, smut
boys who baby you so much it's so suffocating </3
･ﾟ✧ boys who wake you up in the morning with soft kisses against your pantie covered cunt, tracing the outline of your squishy lips and drawing hearts on your clit <3
･ﾟ✧ boys who kiss n suck on your tits so gently that it's not enough, slightly warning you with a light squeeze to your wrists when you keep on squirming, 'i know sweet girl, s just a bit more.'
･ﾟ✧ boys who endlessly finger you, telling you that it's because he's prepping you for his overwhelming cock.. when you're borderline begging n begging for him but he just won't give it to you!
･ﾟ✧ and finally, boys who barely slide their thick tip inside your sweet hole, just to get off on only that! he thinks little girls like you aren't made to take such big cocks, n makes you cry for him to push in deeper. but he denies it, saying, ‘you aren't ready baby.. this is for the best..’
౨ৎ mahito, oikawa tooru, tendou satori, nagi seishirou, meguru bachira, ran haitani, draken ryuguji <3
(n more i cannot think rn ahahahwjw bye)
#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#dead dove do not eat#yandere jujutsu kaisen#dark content#tw dark content#blue lock smut#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk smut#bllk x you#tokyo rev smut#tokyo rev x reader#tokrev#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu oikawa#hq x reader#drabbles ⋆⑅˚₊
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a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!
warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.
summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!
it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do.
satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself.
he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen.
he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?
that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure?
this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.
your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand.
“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this.
“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?”
you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means.
but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders.
“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?”
“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?”
“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod.
“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings.
he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?”
you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago.
“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair.
“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason.
he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body.
“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men.
“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion.
“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.”
you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed.
“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway.
no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.”
“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start.
“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real.
“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.”
you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”
“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.”
your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?”
“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but.
but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you.
you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention.
though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.
his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams.
“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously.
“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it.
in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his.
“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again?
your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how.
you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command.
“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it.
“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue.
your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”
“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname.
“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy.
“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight.
“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.”
your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious.
you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife.
#kishibyesredditcollab#dark content#x female reader#gojo x reader#kyleewritesjjk#jjk x reader#gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen smut
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The Apartment Across The Street - Sukuna x Reader
In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.
Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.
Words: 6.7k
Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)
WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence
AO3 Version
Masterlist
author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing.
art cred: @innaillus
That apartment used to be empty.
Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.
Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.
He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.
After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.
-
All it took was the next morning.
Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do.
He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.
He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.
He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.
He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.
The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.
The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.
“She’s cute though.”
Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”
This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.
“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.
“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.
‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”
His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah…okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.
He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.
Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.
In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.
-
It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.
Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.
The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.
As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.
There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.
Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.
He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.
Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.
He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.
He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”
Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?
Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.
Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.
-
“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”
Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.
Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.
“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.
“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?
“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”
He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.
Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.
Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.
“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”
I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.
To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.
“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”
Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.
He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.
-
It was over.
He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.
Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?
She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.
His memory is not enough. He wants her.
He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.
Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.
He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.
He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.
Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”
“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.
Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”
Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”
He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.
She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.
Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.
“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.
She ran.
-
And that was the worst thing she could have done.
There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.
That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.
Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.
She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.
She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.
In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.
She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.
She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.
As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.
Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.
She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-
What was that noise?
A bump. In her bedroom.
What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?
No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…
-
Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.
The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.
He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.
She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too.
When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.
And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.
He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.
-
It all happened in a second.
She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?
She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.
She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.
Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”
Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”
She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”
She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”
He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”
-
He disgusts her.
He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.
He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.
That’s how she felt.
He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.
‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’
She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.
“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.
He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.
He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”
She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?
“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.
Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.
Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.
“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.
He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.
“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.
“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”
He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.
His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”
“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.
“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…
“I’m yours, Sukuna.”
A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?
She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.
If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.
She was so fucking stupid.
-
He repeated that all night.
‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.
He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.
He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.
‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.
She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.
Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.
She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.
She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?
She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.
In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”
What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”
“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”
All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk?
Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?
-
Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.
She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.
Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?”
She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”
He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”
Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”
“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.
“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.
“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”
ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !
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