Mimi

You’d been following itadori.r.sukuna on instagram for eight months now. Eight months of saving, keeping an eye on his waitlist and bookings forms, preparing for what you wanted. You loved his style, there was something to be said about a tattoo artist who did just one thing and stuck to it, and what Sukuna did? You loved. It was well worth saving paycheck after paycheck to make sure you’d be able to go see him. Finally, you had what felt like a reasonable amount for what you wanted, based on what you’d seen him talk about charging on some of his posts and stories. You were ready.

You filled out a form to apply for a consultation, and the three days that followed were borderline agony, just waiting to see when he’d get back to you and if he had availability for what you thought you wanted. You’d already waited eight months, and the more you waited the more freedom you’d have, because you’d be able to save more money.. but you really wanted him to tattoo you, and you sort of wanted it as soon as possible. You were just dying to have his art on your skin.

When you got the email you’d been waiting for, you were already in town and near where the parlour was. The email detailed a few things you already knew from his socials, and had a link to offer online or phone consultations to get an idea of what you wanted and where, so you could get a price and book a date. Except it wasn’t a no-reply email, so you took your chances. You replied, and let him know you were in the area and would be all afternoon if he had any availability to go in person, since you just preferred face to face communication. He told you he’d be free at 2pm, and it was already half past twelve. Jackpot!

So sure enough, when 1:50pm rolled around, you were already waiting.

At the reception desk was a guy a little younger than you, his early 20s maybe, and he introduced himself as Yuuji. You’d seen from the parlour’s primary page that he was the receptionist and social media manager, the son of the primary owner, alongside the other two employees. A sweet family business. He made idle chatter with you while you waited for Sukuna to be available, and you found yourself laughing, joking with him. You could see why they would want someone like Yuuji to be at the door greeting people.

It was at precisely 2pm that another man emerged from deeper in the store, far taller and broader than Yuuji, but undeniably similar looking in most other regards. The same pink hair, the same brown eyes, even the same slightly tan skin. He regarded you, then grunted.

“You my 2pm?” He asked, and you assumed that this must be Sukuna. It made sense, the four people at the parlour were all related so of course they looked similar, and Sukuna was covered in tattoos. Really, you should’ve realised sooner. “I think so yeah, I’m here for a tattoo consultation.” You replied, and with no more than a nod Sukuna turned and returned into the store. You followed.

The area was obviously clean, but the decor was nice too. The entire place seemed to have a pink and black themeing going on, it was sleek and modern. You liked it. It didn’t quite feel homey and inviting, but it was still an atmosphere you could enjoy, and you could see why they had so many return customers.

Now sitting opposite him, you had a chance to really take Sukuna in. Sure, you’d already noted his similarities to Yuuji when you’d first seen him, but looking at him now in the harsh light - presumably chosen so Sukuna had a clear view when tattooing - you were struck by just how handsome he was. Sexy, even, which wasn’t a though you had often. Broad shoulders seemed to test the strength of the stitches in his t-shirt, black which only seemed to make the stretch more obscene, outlining his pecs in a way that was borderline indecent really. His jeans were black too, stone wash so they had that grey shade more towards the centre of the fabric panels, with gold hardware. Since when did you care enough about someone’s appearance to even notice the colour of the hardware on their jeans? Oh you were screwed.

“So, you said you’re looking for a rib tattoo.” Sukuna said, pulling on a pair of thin glasses to look at his computer, your filled out form presumably on the screen. “Yeah. Nothing huge, but I want a piece sort of.. under my chest, but on the side, if that makes sense?” He didn’t reply verbally, just grunted and scrolled with his trackpad, taking in more of the information on the sheet.

“You say not huge, what does that mean to you?” His attention turned back to you, watching as you sort of gestured vaguely with your hands, creating a circle with your fingers. He nodded and turned his chair to grab some what you knew was stencil paper. He ripped the sheet in half surprisingly cleanly, then in half again, before turning back to you.

“Arms up.” He commanded, and you listened. When you confirmed which side you wanted the tattoo, he leaned over, into your space, and you caught a whiff of his cologne. The scent was an intoxicating combination, dark and heady tobacco and burning whisky, with something sweeter underlining it. He smelled faintly of lotus, wisps of incense following at the tail end as you processed the scent. He held the stencil paper to your skin, adjusting the position, then ripped some more away, and then some more, until he leaned back in his chair with a shoddily done circle of the paper, and held it up to you.

“Something like this would fit mostly where you’re saying you want it. Obviously the size depends on the design itself, but is this what you had in mind?” He asked. He handed you the stencil paper, and you turned it over despite it being the same on both sides - plain - and lifted it up slightly. “Yeah, that looks pretty perfect.” You confirmed, and he nodded. He took the paper back, and tucked it into a notebook he had on the desk beside his laptop. You figured it was his sketchbook.

After that, you spent some time talking about the design you wanted, and he opened his sketchbook to draw some quick mockups for you to look at, so he could refine things and make a cleaner design.

“Cool. If you can give me thirty now, I can do a whole sheet of options for you to pick between. The thirty is just a deposit so if you end up cancelling, I’m still comped for the time you wasted.” He explained as the consultation came to a close, and you nodded, happily forking over the money. You weren’t going to get cold feet, you really wanted this tattoo.

Another three days later, he sent the first pass of the designs he’d drawn up, and with a small number of tweaks requested, you booked a date for the actual appointment.

You were nervous on the day, of course you were, you always were before a tattoo. This time though, it was different. Sukuna was hot and he was going to be not just in close proximity to you, but close proximity with your body, while you were shirtless. It would be fine, you were an adult, you were capable of being sane and normal. You could behave while you got tattooed by the crazy hot artist you’d been obsessed with for months. Not obsessed like that- obviously not.

Maybe you shouldn’t have had a coffee this morning.

Yuuji was there when you arrived, of course he was, and he managed to help soothe some of your nerves. The owner really had created three perfect sons for the family business. What a fun coincidence. The appointment time rolled around before you knew it, and Sukuna was there again looming over you.

“Still ready?” He asked, voice flat, brow raised. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You confirmed, and with that he just nodded as he had the first time you’d been there, and he walked away, expecting you to follow. You did.

You just sat on the table first, letting him disinfect and shave the area where the tattoo would be going before applying the stencil. It took three reapplications before you were happy, but Sukuna was firm that he didn’t mind.

“Not putting all the effort into doing this shit if you’re just gonna hate it. We move it til it’s right.”

You were still glad it hadn’t taken too many tries for you to be happy.

With that, you lay down on the tattoo bed on your side so he could get to the area where the stencil was, and it made it easier for you to raise your arm without loosing the blood in it, able to just extend it out and lay it beside your head. Almost like you were going to sleep. In fact, you’d slept through tattoos before, so some foolish part of you was hopeful that maybe this time you could do the same. Wrong.

You were all too aware of how close Sukuna was to you, the scent of his cologne in the air again, his breath making goosebumps break out over your skin as he worked. The pain of the needle seemed to fade away after the first few minutes, the sensation was still present yes but less all-encompassing. Especially compared to your awareness of everything he did. You couldn’t help the slight press of your thighs whenever you slightly adjusted your position, the greedy way you drank down your water whenever one of you wanted to take a break, lest he realise you were far too warm for the temperature of the room, or your voice break on its way out because of your mouth being dry. It was a little humiliating just how affected you were, really.

As caught up as you were in your own embarrassment, and the discomfort of being tattooed on your ribs, you didn’t realise that Sukuna’s attention on you was just as intensive. Of course he was paying attention, he was tattooing you and he took a lot of pride in his word, he’d never mess up something on a client or be careless as to ruin someone’s tattoo, their body. But that didn’t mean when he took his breaks, or briefly lifted the gun that his eyes didn’t wander. Down to your bare chest, and across your stomach, drifting to where he’d caught you squeezing your thighs together more than once by now. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one distracted.

You were attractive, he’d noticed that the first time he’d laid eyes on you, but there was also something about how well you sat for the tattoo that just did something for him. He was always appreciative for a client who could sit well, not because he resented those who couldn’t but because it just streamlined the process. You were taking it like a champ, the ribs was one of the most painful areas to tattoo, and if he weren’t so intensely focused on your every movement, he might have thought you’d fallen asleep. It was admirable, and damnit it was attractive. He wanted to keep tattooing you, to be the one to do any and every other piece of art you got on your skin.

In just two short hours, the tattoo was done. You admired it in the mirror, grinning unabashedly. At least a little bit of your embarrassment faded with the introduction of your elation at the new piece of art on your skin. Worth every penny. He cleaned and wrapped it for you, went through the care instructions, and gave you a little leaflet on it so you wouldn’t forget anything, as well as a bottle of cleaner to use regularly for a while, apparently included with the cost of the tattoo. Neat!

As you stood at the reception desk chatting with Yuuji, Sukuna typing the numbers into the register for you to be able to pay, you didn’t notice what else he was doing. You handed over the cash without much thought, smiling appreciatively up at the mountain of a man that had just done such delicate work against your skin, and then when you got your change, you didn’t realise what was included inside.

Not until you were in your car, staring down at a slip of paper with his personal number on it.

You took a moment to let yourself freak out like a teenager before you calmed down, going back to behaving like an adult. You tucked his number into your phone case for safe keeping, and started the engine to drive home.

Tags: @cainnoable @uselessboots @claryeverlarkf @queenmimi2817 @hellkaiserinphoenix @yoonsucks @fanaticsnail @lilithkleia @yuurivalr @wrennyx @lunulatalux @gojosbigboobies

It was the very last thing that you’d been expecting to see, and yet somehow not the biggest surprise of the day. Heading down to the little cove near your cottage home, descending the slightly slippery stone stairs most visitors to the area didn’t dare traverse to your own personal slice of peace. The first few metres was all pebbles, not the sort of place you’d head to spend a relaxing afternoon, but past that was your paradise. A stretch of golden sand where you left out your little shelter tent, an ice box you refilled whenever you came by, and a chair moulded to the shape of your body so it could be effortlessly comfortable. You wore your usual bathers- deep cherry red, a bikini top with shorts rather than one of those tiny bikini bottoms. The sun beat down on your back, but the temperature was mild enough that it felt comforting rather than stifling. Perfect.

You headed for the rocky outcrop that kept your favourite spot so private, the sort of formation that most rogue tourists wouldn’t bother to make their way around, especially since they couldn’t guess that paradise was on the other side. That was when you noted that something seemed different, your first inkling that something today was going to be different. The waves were settled as they usually were, but you could hear that just beyond your view that they were hitting differently. Rather than just creeping up the sand, they must be hitting something. Something that wasn’t usually there.

You got a firm grip on the rocks, and used it to haul yourself over and around the few rocks that were actively in the way of your pathing, and that was when you saw exactly what was causing the difference. A damn ship wreck.. what the fuck? That wasn’t there yesterday.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to approach or turn away. but something about it called you in. Really, you could call the coast guard so they could investigate.. but just a peek wouldn’t hurt. You edged closer bit by bit, your lunch tossed aside in your chair for safe keeping.

Then came the second surprise of the day.

Inside the wreck, trapped under some fallen debris and struggling to get out was a man. It took a moment to process what was in front of you because, he wasn’t a man, not really. Just there beneath the debris, where there should’ve been a pair of legs thrashing and kicking for freedom, was instead a pink tail. A what? You shook your head, blinking a few times as if somehow you might just be seeing things that aren’t there. But, sure enough, it remained. A pink tail that resembled that of a shark, a similar shade to the hair on his head, the fins tipped in black.

“Hello?” You asked hesitantly, hand resting on one of the wooden planks so you could peer into the slightly dark space, trying to get a better look at whoever was inside. “Get lost.” The man grunted, and you were struck by how exhausted he already sounded, like his throat was dry. You paused, considering your options, before you dashed back to where you’d left your lunch.

There, in the cooler box from yesterday, was a bottle of water. There was a brief moment where you considered whether instead of giving him a bottle of fresh water, you should pour it out and give him some salt water instead. Well, the tail looked quite attached to him, so you figured he must drink salt water, right? It only took a minute for you to exchange the cold fresh water for the lukewarm salt water of the ocean, and with it in hand you returned to the wreck.

When you got there, he was no longer struggling, just softly panting, clearly taking a break from what he must’ve been doing for hours.

“You look tired. I have water, and food.” You offered, fingers fidgeting around the bottle. The man looked up at you, blood red eyes unnerving in their intensity as they focused on you, then drew down to the bottle in your hand. He dragged his eyes back up to you, seemingly analysing you to make a decision, and then he just nodded.

Carefully, slowly, you worked your way into the wreck, not wanting to risk disturbing it and causing more damage. He took the water in a surprisingly human hand, though his fingers were webbed with nails that were more like claws and black in colour. On closer inspection, though the skin of his upper half was pale, it was also marked as if he were tattooed, matching the small amount of his tail that you could see.

He drained the bottle in a matter of seconds, then tossed the plastic back towards you, which you just barely managed to catch. With a newfound strength, he thrashed his tail hard once, twice, then a third time and some of the debris managed to dislodge. You quickly padded over and hauled away a few of the smaller fragments of wood so the total weight would be less heavy for him to shift, and when you stepped back, he gave a final big thrash and knocked the majority of the debris on him aside. With that, he was able to drag himself with his hands out from what remained.

Now with a full view of him, you were able to properly admire the view. He was handsome, with a sharp jaw, a strong nose, and his abs were prominent just above his tail. The tail itself was intimidating, that pink shade you’d already noticed, with a white underside, and the black markings continued across smooth skin, not just at the tips of his fins, almost akin to tiger stripes, if you had to make a comparison. He wasn’t just handsome, he was damn hot.

Then, your eyes caught sight of some blood pooling and dripping down his tail. Your eyes trailed after a droplet for a long moment, watching the way it trailed across skin slowly, gravity pulling it down and into the grains of sand below him, staining them in the process.

“You’re hurt.” The words came out before you could stop them, and his eyes snapped back up to your face, teeth bared in what must’ve been a warning. “Back up.” You knew the feeling creeping down your spine, the understanding that you were in danger, should’ve scared you and made you want to run, but instead it only compelled you to stay. “Okay, but will you let me help you again?” You asked him, taking two large, deliberate steps backwards. The man seemed to consider that, with eyes narrowed, watching your movements carefully.

“Empty your pockets.” He roughly demanded, and you turned them out for him to see that they were already empty.

“..Fine.” He agreed, but it was clear he was reluctant to do it, only agreeing because of how precarious the situation was. You explained briefly that you’d need to go get some supplies to help him, but first you’d bring him something to eat. You found yourself glad you’d not put fish on your sandwich that day.

With a chicken sandwich in his hand, and another bottle of water in the sand for him to take when he wanted it, you dashed across the sand and then the pebbles, up the dangerous stone stairs and all the way back to your place. Your first aid kit was stocked, so you took that, and the rest of the pack of chicken you’d used to make your sandwich. Bread probably wasn’t the best thing to feed him, but meat should be. Right? You were guessing, but you were sure he’d eat it either way, he seemed hungry.

There was another moment then, as you stood in the doorway of your home, ready to return to the beach that you questioned yourself. What were you doing? Surely this went against every ‘stranger danger’ lesson that you’d ever been given, to not only help a stranger but one that wasn’t entirely human? But then also, why should him not being human factor in? He was capable of communicating with you - he passed the Harkness test, your brain supplied, which was entirely unhelpful in the moment. With a quick shake of your head to clear your mind of all its questionable thoughts, you headed back towards the beach. You were in too deep now.

When you returned to the wreck the man was curled in on himself, his torso leaned over his tail where it was wounded, as if guarding it, keeping himself safe from harm. You lifted the chicken pack for him to see, then tossed it to him rather than getting close enough to hand it to him.

“I’ve got medical stuff, so I can help with your wound.” You told him, once he’d started eating the meat you’d offered. Peace offering success. “Why?” Was his response, and admittedly you supposed that was fair. You also weren’t sure you had an answer for him. Why were you helping? “Because I don’t like seeing people hurt, I guess.” You told him with a shrug, but the look on his face told you that he didn’t believe you for even a moment. You sighed and sat down opposite him, legs crossed beneath you, and decided to try again.

“Plus, I’ve never seen something like you. I just want to get close, I guess. I really don’t like that you’re hurt, though. It looks painful, and you’re beautiful. Beautiful things shouldn’t bleed.” The words felt more truthful as they passed your lips, and though his lip curled with distaste at your words, he seemed to believe them too. He kept you both in a slightly tense silence for a while longer as he continued to eat, then downed the bottle of water you’d given him earlier.

When his eyes landed on you next, you felt as if the world had gone dark, with a spotlight shone only on you. You fidgeted slightly under the intensity of it, his dark eyes dragging over your form, taking in every inch of you. “Fine.” He finally agreed, and so you slowly shuffled over the sand to sit closer to him. He uncurled, giving you access to his tail, and it struck you suddenly just how large he really was. Oh wow.

But, you focused as best you could on doing what you could do for him. Antiseptic, some waterproof bandages you had since you loved to swim, and a regular wipe just to clean away anything else in the wound that shouldn’t be there. When you were done, you’d used all of your bandages due to his size, but you figured it’d be worth it. He remained silent for the entire process, watching you with lips pursed, each movement you made followed by his piercing gaze.

You shuffled back to give him some space to move, and watched him poke and prod your work a few times, before he simply nodded. “It will do.” He decided, then began dragging himself towards the water’s edge, ready to return to wherever he’d come from. You helped move some of the debris out of his way, careful as you followed, until he was dipping below the surface to swim past what remained. You dashed out of the wreck to watch him surface a small ways away, shaking off some water, his eyes returning to you.

A thick disappointment draped over your shoulders, making a home deep in your gut. You’d been hoping you might get more time to talk to him, to learn about him and his culture and where the hell he’d come from. Nobody would ever believe you about what happened here today, but that wasn’t the thing you cared about most.

“You never told me your name!” You yelled, the realisation striking you quite suddenly. “Neither did you.” He returned, and then just like that, he was gone. He dipped beneath the water, tail flicking briefly after him and then even the shadow of him beneath the waves disappeared.

You’d met some sort of.. mer-shark, and you’d helped him with an injury, and you didn’t even know his name.

Tags: @cainnoable @uselessboots @claryeverlarkf @queenmimi2817 @hellkaiserinphoenix @yoonsucks @fanaticsnail @lilithkleia @yuurivalr @wrennyx @lunulatalux @gojosbigboobies @cursedkisss