RENAISSANCE

Even though he’d fucked you mere hours ago, he was already painfully hard once more, considering pressing your sleeping form down into the mattress and slipping inside you while you were unconscious, desperate to feel your hot, tight warmth around him again. 

But he decided against it, not keen to disturb you after the night that you’d had. You were no doubt aching from the way he’d fucked you, your skin probably irritated from the tattoo. He loved you enough to understand that you needed rest, and now that you’d come around to his way of thinking he had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted with you. 

What he hadn’t been expecting though, was the pleasant situation that he found himself in the next morning. 

Because as his eyes fluttered open, greeted as usual by the white ceiling of his room, mind still hazy with sleep, he was met with the lovely sensation of something hot and wet wrapped around his cock. 

He propped himself up on his forearms, heart fluttering at the sight of you between his thighs, your small hand wrapped around the shaft of his cock while your mouth sucked at his tip, clearly making your best effort to take as much of him as you could. You looked beautiful with your cheeks hollowed, your eyes squeezed shut as you concentrated on the task at hand. 

It took all of his willpower not to immediately cum at the image of you serving him. 

But he wanted to savor this moment, the first time that you’d done anything for him willingly, rather than to overcome your own selfish desires. He’d known that he’d broken you, the way that you’d so obediently let him tattoo you last night had made that obvious, but he hadn’t realised the extent to which your shift in behaviour extended to. 

Reaching out, he threaded his hands through your hair, guiding you down his cock carefully, desperate to feel more of your mouth on him. You glanced up at him in surprise, eyes a little teary from the effort of taking him, and his cock twitched hard. 

“Fuck, that’s it baby.” He groaned, pressing you down a little further, enjoying the way that you seemed to choke around his length, struggling to regain your composure but desperate not to displease him. 

This was what he’d been seeking since he first brought you back here. To have you all submissive, serving his every whim just the way he wanted it. 

“You can take it deeper, can’t you?” He hummed, smirking as you struggled to fit his whole length into your mouth, his grip on your hair unyielding, pulling you forward until your nose was pressed against his pelvis, tears flowing down your cheeks now as saliva dripped from your lips. 

It was satisfying to have you like this. After months of defiance and disobedience, a frustrating period where he’d had to constantly be on his guard because you always seemed to be plotting, he finally had you right where he wanted you. Sure, he’d touched you plenty while you’d still been spitting and biting at him at every turn, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of having you be a willing participant. 

“Look at me, baby.” He ordered, heart leaping as your big eyes gazed up at him, the image of you with red cheeks and his cock in your mouth was going to be permanently burned into his retinas. 

He’d be perfectly happy if he never saw anything again. 

“You like sucking my cock, huh?” He asked, feeling satisfied at the way that you nodded up at him, but desperate for more. “Let me hear you say it.” 

You tried to pull back, to remove yourself from his cock so that you could give him an answer, but he gave your hair a firm tug, holding you in place and making it abundantly clear what it was that he was expecting from you. 

The ‘yes’ came out garbled, more saliva dripping onto the sheets below and he chuckled, petting your head affectionately, cooing out words of praise because you were just so cute and he was so proud of you. 

“Make me cum then, baby.” 

And unlike the you that he’d grown so accustomed to, you listened to his demand without a second thought, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, your tongue running along the underside of his cock until he was cumming into your mouth, a grin crossing his face as you swallowed without even being asked. 

What an obedient little thing you’d become. Perhaps he should’ve moved to harsher measures much earlier. 

He couldn’t help but feel elated as you pulled back, wiping his cum from your chin as you crawled up onto his lap, sinking yourself down on his still hard cock. A groan left his lips, eyes closing a little at how good it felt to be inside you, your pussy squeezing him just as tightly as it was last night. 

All he had to do was lie there and watch as you bounced on his cock, soft little whines and whimpers spilling from you as you clenched around him, your fingers digging into his chest as you chased your release, calling out his name softly as you came but keeping up your pace until he was spilling into you. 

His brain wasn’t quite caught up with what was happening, wondering for a moment if he was just having a lovely dream. But the warmth of your body against his was far too real for this to be something his imagination has conjured up. 

This was actually happening, and you were his. 

You let him clean you up later that morning, after you’d fallen back asleep in his arms for a few hours. He’d carried you to the shower where he’d fucked you again on uncertain legs, chuckling at the way that you’d wapped yourself around him for stability. You’d been getting weaker lately from your lack of exercise, but he didn’t mind - it just meant that he had more opportunity to look after you. 

But as the morning seeped into afternoon, and you were huddled up at his side on the couch, clinging to him like a lifeline, he figured that he needed to have a better understanding of what was going on with you right now. 

As much as he enjoyed the situation that he’d woken up to, he wasn’t sure when the bubble was going to burst. There was a possibility that you’d been broken so thoroughly that the two of you could spend the rest of your lives in this state, but there was also the potential that your disposition was only temporary, and that you’d regain your terror and disgust for him over time. 

He needed to understand just what was going on in that pretty little head of yours to ensure that you stayed the way that you were right now. 

So he brought you some food - chinese takeout from the place down the road, which he’d learned was one of your favourites, and put an innocuous quiz show on the tv in the background before addressing the elephant in the room. 

“Baby.” He whispered softly, pulling you closer against his side, fingers moving to gently play with your hair, which had grown significantly longer since he’d first brought you here.

“Yeah?” Your voice was small, like you weren’t quite used to using it anymore.

“Do you remember how we met?” 

You frowned, brow creasing as you seemed to struggle with that question. 

As he’d thought, things weren’t all lined up in some neat order in your head, which meant on one hand that he needed to be careful, but on the other he’d been given an excellent opportunity. He just had to make sure that your thoughts fell into place in the way that he wanted them to. 

“It was- I was in danger-” 

You were tensing up against him, distress growing as you struggled to recall your memories. Sukuna stayed quiet for now, not wanting to push too hard just yet. 

“Something bad was happening and y-you made it better. Right?” 

Soft eyes staring up at him for confirmation, worry creasing your face like you’d failed somehow by not having a clear mind, but Sukuna couldn’t be more proud of your current state. 

“That’s right.” He confirmed, hands still raking through your hair. “Someone cruel was hurting you, and I protected you, remember?” 

“Someone…” You trailed off, lost in thought. 

“Do you remember who?” 

“I- I don’t-” 

“Does the name Gojo Satoru mean anything to you?” 

Your reaction was instant, eyes widening, body starting to shake, as if some deep memory was being unearthed. You didn’t move away from Sukuna, but you brought your legs up to your chest, breaths coming out short and shallow as that name seemed to sit with you. 

If you’d known the truth you’d be fleeing across the couch by now. 

But you weren’t. 

Which meant that the negative emotions around what Sukuna had done to Gojo were still buried within you but you had no idea where the emotion was coming from. It was his to weaponise. If he could convince you that the person who had hurt you was Gojo, he had no doubt that you’d be easy to keep on side. It would be so simple to paint himself as your saviour, as someone who had killed your abuser and stepped in as your protector. 

Besides, was that really so far from the truth? He was protecting you from your miserable little life, from creepy fans and horrible idols like Gojo. 

“He hurt you.” Sukuna whispered against your ear, pulling you firmly onto his lap, making his best effort to sound and look sympathetic. “He caused you pain and suffering and I stopped him. I got rid of him for you baby, so you’ll never have to suffer again.” 

You blinked up at him, all sweet and innocent as you shuffled a little on his lap, your hands coming up to his chest as you steadied yourself. 

“The eyes.” You mumbled, a cute little frown on your face as a hint of nervousness seeped into your tone. He hadn’t thought that you’d be able to remember that at all, considering how subdued and quiet you were acting with him, but he did his best to hide his surprise. 

“Mmm, I took them from him so he couldn’t look for you anymore.” He soothed, fingers dancing gently over your skin. It wasn’t clear what you were thinking, whether you’d react with disgust or not. Right now you seemed more curious than anything, and that was the state he was aiming to keep you in if he could. 

“Oh.” 

“I took his life too.” Sukuna said plainly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I couldn’t have him still out in the world, trying to get his hands on you.” 

You were shivering harder now, and he could see tears springing up that he hoped weren’t for him. His heart picked up as you threw your arms around him, clinging to his body desperately as the tears fell, wetting the shoulder of his t-shirt. A soft sigh of pleasure fell from his lips as he wrapped both arms firmly around you, holding you as tight as he could. 

Wasn’t this ideal? 

Memories gone, twisted into something that worked for him. Although, it wasn’t like he was even really hiding the truth anyway. Your old life had been bad for you, Gojo had been bad for you, it was just that you hadn’t managed to understand that yet. Sukuna genuinely did see himself as your saviour, and believed deeply that killing Gojo was the right thing to do. 

Everything he did, he did for your sake. It wasn’t out of selfishness - as much as he personally wanted you, he wasn’t doing this to fulfil his desires. He was doing this to give you the life that you really deserved. 

So he enjoyed every moment as he rubbed your back, cooing and offering you soothing words as you clung to him, waiting until your sobs subsided before continuing the conversation, eager to get a few final things ironed out to ensure that your mind was exactly where he needed it to be right now. 

“Do you remember what happened last night?” He asked, noting the sudden mix of fear and guilt that marred your expression as you pulled back a little. You looked like a dog who had just been caught ripping up the furniture. 

“I tried to escape.” You mumbled, wiping your eyes with the heels of your hands. 

“Mmm. Why would you do that, baby?” 

Confusion was once again written all over your features, as if you were trying to dredge up a memory deep inside you. Sukuna remained relaxed despite it all, gazing at you patiently, waiting to see what conclusion you’d come to on your own. 

It was simple really. If you drew the wrong conclusion, he’d simply repeat his actions from last night over and over again until his reality stuck in your head. 

“B-because I was being ungrateful.” You whispered, your voice coming out laden with guilt, and he couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face at the way that those words seemed to have lodged themselves into your brain. 

You were being ungrateful. 

He’s glad that you can see that now. 

“Are you gonna do it again?” He asked softly, fingers moving up to your neck now, clasping it softly, a small amount of pressure behind his touch. A quiet threat. 

“No.” You breathed out, and he grinned, kissing your forehead before pulling you harder against him, lips smashing into yours, tongue wasting no time pushing into your mouth, desperate to dominate you. 

And just as he’d been expecting, you let him. Sinking against him submissively, making no effort to struggle. 

You really were his now after all.

—

The next few months passed by relatively uneventfully. 

Most days were the same. You’d wake up with your limbs tangled with Sukuna’s - more often than not, with his cock already buried inside of you. Although some days, where he wasn’t in a rush to go out to work, he’d take his time waking you up by eating you out, waiting until you were fully conscious before slipping himself into you. 

Either way, you’d always start your day beneath him, being pressed down into the mattress and filled up as he mumbled sweet praise against your ear. 

You were allowed much more freedom now than when you first came here. Sukuna would never tie you up against the bed in the guest room anymore, only ever binding your hands now for the purpose of having rough sex when he was in a bad mood. You had totally free rein of the apartment, able to walk the full length of it without him watching you like a hawk. 

It had taken a little bit of time to earn that trust and you could understand why. You’d been difficult when you first came here, had been totally out of your mind with fear, unable to see that Sukuna had saved you from a torturous life. The people out there: Gojo, your friends and family, your agency, your fans - they’d all been ripping you to pieces and you hadn’t been clever enough to see that you were slowly being eaten alive. 

Only Sukuna was smart enough to see it. 

You’d just taken a bit longer to come around to his way of thinking. It wasn’t until he’d put you in your place after the escape attempt that you really got it. 

He was your saviour. 

So after weeks of your compliance, of you doing everything you could to prove that you’d accepted your new place in his life, he started giving you more and more freedom. You could watch whatever you wanted on TV, cook and eat whatever meals you wanted, partake in whatever hobbies you wanted so long as you told him what supplies you needed so he could go out and get them for you.

The only freedoms that you weren’t afforded were owning a phone, and stepping out of the door of his apartment. 

But you weren’t even sure that bothered you anymore. Who were you going to text? One of the evil abusers from your past? There was no one to talk to outside of Sukuna - he was the only person on your side. 

Not being able to go outside was a bit more of a blow, but you could understand it at the very least. You were famous out there - the moment you stepped outside someone would recognise you and it just wasn’t worth the risk. That’s why Sukuna was so angry when you’d tried to escape - he was making all these sacrifices to look after you and you’d thrown it in his face. 

It was like he always said: you shouldn’t be so ungrateful. 

So you accepted what you were given. Enjoying the relative freedom that his apartment offered. The majority of your time was spent watching TV, catching up on movies or binging the latest TV show that had been released on Netflix. On days where you were feeling particularly brave, you’d ask Sukuna  if you could watch old clips of yourself on idol shows, fascinated with the ‘you’ that appeared on the screen. 

You didn’t feel like you were her. 

There was hardly any recollection in your mind of being her, despite Sukuna’s assurance that was the person that you used to be before Gojo Satoru had ruined your life. She had your face, and somewhere buried deep in the back of your mind you could remember performing, could remember being out in the world and living your life as an idol. 

But it was all so distant and dreamlike, a reality that felt more like a fiction book you’d read than your own memories. 

It was strange. Watching the old clips made you feel uncomfortable for some reason, eliciting fear in your chest whenever you saw yourself moving so freely across the screen. Sukuna had said it was a defence mechanism, your body shutting down at the memory of how people had treated you back then. 

But you weren’t so sure. Because sometimes the feeling felt like something akin to yearning for something that you no longer had. 

Not that you’d ever mention that to Sukuna. After all he’d given you it was wrong to ask so many questions about your old life, when he was doing his best to protect you from what you’d experienced back then, trying to help your mind heal and forget. Lingering on negative emotions was pointless. 

Yet for some reason, despite enjoying all of the time that you spent at Sukuna’s side, you couldn’t put to bed the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that something was wrong.

Everytime Sukuna touched you, fingers skimming over your skin so tenderly, there was something about it that set you on edge at least a little. You were probably traumatised from whatever this Gojo guy had done to you before Sukuna had saved you. 

That’s what you told yourself. 

But it never quite felt right. 

You hadn’t told Sukuna about the day that he’d been at work where you’d watched the news. It was an update on you, mentioning that the police still hadn’t found you following your abduction, and that there were still no leads on who was responsible for Gojo’s murder.

And even though you knew the reality, knew that Gojo had abducted you and subsequently been killed by Sukuna when your tattooed boyfriend had heroically come to your rescue, the facts on the news never quite seemed to add up, with the newsreader claiming that you and Gojo had been a relationship that some crazed fan had likely ripped apart. 

Sukuna was a fan, sure, but the news was wrong. He’d come to your rescue, that was what you knew to be true. Aside from the time that he’d kept you tied up for a while and punished you for trying to leave, he’d been nothing but kind to you. 

Besides, you’d deserved the punishment. You were out of your mind when he’d first rescued you, trying to escape and return to the man who had caused you so much suffering, unable to see Sukuna as your saviour. 

He’d had to treat you that way to set your mind straight. And weren’t you so much happier now? 

It made you sick to think about it too much, so you’d turned off the channel and thought about something else. Your life with Sukuna was good, why would you start accusing him of things when he’d been so open with you? 

It was probably the news who had it wrong. 

Plus, he’d gotten so upset last time when you tried to escape, and you didn’t want to incur his wrath again. Not after he’d been so kind to you for all this time, giving up his normal life to take care of you and keep you safe. 

You shouldn’t be ungrateful. 

But when the truth came knocking a few months after you and Sukuna had first slept together, you found that even you could no longer deny the uncertain feeling that had been tugging at your gut from the start. 

It had been one of those days where Sukuna had left early for work, leaving you to entertain yourself in the apartment. It wasn’t unusual - as one of the most well-known tattoo artists in the city he tended to be fully booked, often leaving you in the apartment alone. He trusted you now, after all. 

You’d been struggling to find something to occupy your time. Bored with watching TV and not feeling creative enough to paint or draw, you figured maybe you’d try your hand at scrapbooking and make something nice for Sukuna. He’d taken a few photos of the two of you together lately, so you could definitely use those. 

In search of the physical copies that he kept in the bedroom, you found yourself stopping in your tracks at the sight of the drawer of his bedside table hanging slightly open. It was always locked - you’d watched him pull out the key many times to access important documents like his passport, and he’d always make sure to lock it up again, so seeing it ajar was odd. 

You knew that it wasn’t your business, that you should’ve gone on with the task at hand and walked away. But there was a sense of curiosity that tugged you towards the open drawer, interested at the very least in what was so important that it needed to be kept under lock and key. 

And what you found in there, sitting on top of a stack of boring looking documentation, was a phone. 

A phone that you were certain didn’t belong to Sukuna, if the sparkly pink case was anything to go by. In fact, you were sure that this was yours, a forgotten fragment of your old life, something that Sukuna had taken from you to keep you safe. 

You knew that at some point between plugging in the phone to charge and typing in the password that came to you like muscle memory, you should’ve stopped. But you didn’t. Something in the back of your mind was urging you to keep going, eager to see remnants of the life that you’d left behind. 

Even if Sukuna had said that it would be too scary, too overwhelming to be faced with the events of your past, your curiosity still needed to be sated. 

What you found on that phone shattered everything. 

Before you were hundreds of texts from people that Sukuna had called evil, messages asking where you were, hoping you were safe, demonstrating just how deeply they cared about you. And that was before your shaky hands opened the photo gallery, finding thousands of images of you smiling, videos of you giggling, taken in all corners of the world - places that you’d never go again now you were confined to this apartment. 

What was most startling was how many of the photos were with Gojo. 

No, not Gojo, but Satoru. That was what you had called him. 

And in every single image you were happy, huddled up close to him, eyes shining like it was the best thing in the world to be in his presence. Right now you were staring at a person that you no longer knew, a girl who had been erased from the world and even from your own mind. 

Almost from your own mind. 

The phone fell from your hands, skittering against the floor as you doubled over, a sudden feeling of panic seizing your chest at the wall of memories hitting you. You’d been happy as an idol, it had been your dream. You’d had a good life, good friends, a lovely boyfriend before it had all been taken from you, seized by the hands of the very man who you let tenderly hold you each night. 

Bile rising in your throat you ran to the bathroom, emptying your guts into the basin as your breathing came out shallow, disgust rolling through you in waves. You’d given Sukuna everything - had been relying on him, clinging to him like he was your lover, you saviour. You’d let him hold you, kiss you, and even fuck you, as if it was what you wanted, as if the two of your belonged together. 

Hell, you would’ve even gone as far as to say you were in love with him, comfortable in this life that you’d built together. You were here in this fucking apartment, playing housewife for the same man who had ripped away all your freedoms in the first place. 

You needed to get out.

Unfortunately, you knew that Sukuna always made sure to lock up well when he went out to work, which meant that you’d have to wait until he returned home to attempt to make your escape. You just couldn’t stay here any longer. Pretending for any amount of time that you were still in the dark was an impossibility.

Not when you’d shudder at his touch now. 

Would you? 

Or would your body still react to him with desire despite it all? You weren’t sure, but that was another reason to escape as soon as possible, lest you fall immediately back into the pattern he’d created for you. 

You’d done your best to act normal once he returned home that night. Hovering around him while he cooked, laying your head on his lap while he watched TV, answering questions about how your day had been and trying not to let your mind wander to the phone that you’d hidden back in its rightful place, anxious that he might somehow be able to hear your thoughts. 

And when he’d tried to sink into you that night, you’d gently pushed him away, mumbling something about feeling sick before curling up in a ball and turning away from him. Perhaps that was unwise. Maybe you should’ve let him fuck you once more to keep his guard down, but how could you allow that after what he’d done to you? 

“Something wrong, baby?” He asked, arms circling around you protectively. You’d just shook your head, tensing up at his touch, despising the way that it still made you feel safe and warm. 

You were a fool through and through. 

It was around two in the morning that you finally gathered up the courage to move, slipping silently from his grip and retrieving the door keys from the pockets of his jeans discarded on the floor. He’d become more lax with keeping them hidden lately, more secure in his assumption that you were happy and compliant. 

This time you undid the locks without an issue, experiencing your first taste of freedom in months as you stumbled out into the hallway of your apartment building. You were wearing nothing but your nightgown - Sukuna never really gave you any other outfits, only ever suggesting that you wore his hoodies and shirts if you got cold. 

The thought crossed your mind to throw on one of his jackets, but it would smell too much like him, and right now you wanted to get as far from any reminder of his existence as you possibly could. 

You didn’t even have a pair of shoes, only a thin pair of slippers that Sukuna had provided you when you’d complained about your feet getting cold, but it was better than going barefoot. 

Heart thrumming in your ears, you hurried down the hallway, weakened legs not used to moving a distance any greater than the length of his apartment, but you persisted all the same, bursting out onto quiet Shibuya streets as you fled the building that you’d never seen the outside of. 

In hindsight, it would be nice to think that you made it any significant distance once you’d made your escape. In reality, you barely managed to reach the end of the street before heavy footsteps started to approach on the pavement behind you, the rhythm making it clear that whoever was approaching you was sprinting. 

Sucking in a breath, you lurched forward on instinct, pushing your legs as hard as they could reasonably manage to try and escape whoever was approaching. But months of inactivity were catching up with you quickly, and you found that your body was too heavy and sluggish to act with any level of haste. 

Your scream was immediately muffled as a hand clamped over your face, a strong arm coming to rest around your waist as you were dragged back into an alleyway. Panic bubbled up inside of you at the contact, unsure which would be worse: if it were a stranger grabbing you or if it were Sukuna. 

As your vision focussed you could see the dark band tattooed on your assailant’s wrists, the sound of him taking a deep, measured breath letting you know that you were well and truly fucked. 

“That was close huh, baby?” He murmured against your ear, his body trembling with what you could only imagine was unbridled rage. “Almost got away from me that time.” 

“Sorr-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, pressing his hand harder against your mouth, essentially silencing any sound that you could make. “We’re gonna go home, and then we’re gonna talk this out, and then I’m going to make sure that this is the last time you ever try this shit. Okay baby?” 

You can barely remember how he got you home. There was no doubt in your mind that you’d walked back to his apartment on your own two legs, his hand curled around your waist. To the odd bypasser out and about in the middle of the night, you’d just look like any other couple stumbling home after a night out. 

But the way that Sukuna’s nails were digging into the skin of your side painted a different picture. 

Maybe if you’d been braver you would’ve kicked and screamed, would’ve grabbed the nearest person and told them who you were. But it was too quiet and secluded out here at night. You knew that Sukuna had killed - your guards and Satoru were both dead without a second thought because of him. 

There was no doubt in your mind that if you tried to escape him right now he’d kill the person that you went to for assistance, and that wasn’t fair on them - for their life to be cut short just because they’d had the misfortune of being the person you asked for help. 

Besides, it would just make whatever punishment he had brewing even worse. 

He was silent as he pushed you through the door to his apartment, taking his time doing all of the locks carefully before turning to you, red eyes burning with rage. A shiver ran through you, a mix of fear and a humiliating sense of anticipation, because even if your memories had returned, they didn’t quite manage to override the foolish desire for Sukuna that had developed over your last few happy months. 

“Go get on our bed.” He hissed, expression twisted with fury. When you didn’t immediately follow his command he slapped you hard across the face, the force of it making you feel like your brain had been rattled against the side of your skull. “Don’t make me ask again.” 

Sticky fear rose in your throat as you blinked up at him. He hadn’t been rough with you like this in a long time. You supposed he had no reason to since things had been going so well. Maybe you should’ve kept living in that illusion.

It hadn’t been so bad, once you’d accepted things. 

Unwilling to draw more of his ire, you made your way into your shared room, taking a seat on the bed, legs trembling as you waited for Sukuna to follow. 

It took a while before he entered. You could hear him fumbling about in the kitchen something before he entered, your eyes instantly drawn to the object in his hand. 

“Face down.” He ordered disapprovingly before you could ask what the knife was for. The metal of the object glinting as he set it down on the bedside table, before forcing you down beneath him in the position he wanted - tying your hands together behind your back. 

It wasn’t dissimilar to the last time you’d made an escape, but you could tell that he was far angrier on this occasion. It was a much greater betrayal, after spending months believing that you were his loving little girlfriend. 

“Sorry.” You whispered, once again trying to apologise, flinching as he let out a cruel laugh. 

“Instead of sorry, how about you explain yourself.” You hissed against your ear, body pressing yours down into the bed, one hand snaking around your neck while the other found its way to your soft thighs. 

“I-” You desperately searched your mind for anything that would placate him, anything that could frame this as being a mistake. “I just wanted to go o-outside for a while.” You whimpered, seizing up and burying your face in the sheets beneath you as Sukuna’s fingers moved further up your thighs. 

“Hmmm, that’s all, huh? You were going to come straight back?” 

“Of cours-” You started with a nod, only for your words to be cut short as his fingers tightened hard around your throat. 

“You really think I’m fucking stupid, don’t you?” He raised his voice, hot breath brushing against your ear as his hand pressed down on your windpipe. “I know you found your old phone, I left that drawer open to test you. I thought you’d ignore it, that your loyalty to me would win out - you’d been so good after all. I thought you’d understood that you’re in love with me and that your old life is meaningless.” 

Eyes wide, you were struggling beneath him now, unable to move with your hands bound and the weight of his body keeping you face down beneath him. 

“But I suppose I overestimated your ability to think for yourself. You’re too stupid for that, huh? You need me to spoonfeed you everything.” 

“-Kuna.” You choked out desperately, black spots starting to manifest in your vision as your body started to feel light from the pressure. And at his nickname, his hands did loosen a little, a certain softness seeping into his tone as he spoke. 

“And that’s okay. I’ll teach you over and over again until you get it.” The hand on your thigh finally reached its intended destination, his fingers moving tenderly over your bare pussy, humiliation settling in your chest as he laughed at what he found. “Oh, you're dripping! Maybe you don’t understand, but your body sure does.”

You wanted to scream at him, to tell him that he was wrong. But shamefully you knew that to some extent you did still want Sukuna. Months of being in a relationship with him, even built on a false pretext, had a small portion of your brain hanging on to affection towards him. And your body was well aware of that - yearning for his touch as if the two of you were just roleplaying. 

The whine that left your lips as he pushed two fingers into you was humiliating. They were always so thick, the pads of his fingers always finding that spot inside you so quickly, scraping against it as you arched your back against him. 

“Mmm, you still like it, huh?” 

“N-No.” You lied, voice trembling pathetically as Sukuna’s other hand moved to your hair, stroking it for a moment before gathering it in a fist and tugging tightly. Pain shot through your scalp and neck as you whimpered, your pussy instinctively clenching around his fingers as the feeling mixed in with the pleasure. 

Sukuna was a sadist. You’d known that even when you’d been lost in your delusions. He loved to be in control, loved to make you hurt, and the worst thing was that you’d come to love it too. Over time you’d started to enjoy the pain, to wait for him to slap you or whip you or tie you up knowing that it was all going to fade into pleasure eventually. 

And now your body couldn’t help but enjoy it, clinging to his fingers all because he was pulling your hair. 

“Sure.” He chuckled cruelly, pumping his fingers a little faster. “You don’t know what to think of me now, huh? You want to run but it feels so good.” 

“I hate you.” You choked out, the words coming out in a higher pitch than usual as that familiar pressure started to build in your gut. He ignored your words as he released your hair, dropping your head unceremoniously back down onto the mattress as he slipped his other hand underneath you, fingers moving down to your clit as he rolled the bud languidly between his fingers. 

He knew your body inside and out at this point, and at his careful touch you were coming undone around his fingers, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your teeth as you tried desperately not to cry out his name, unwilling to give him anything. 

“Sure seems like you hate me.” He mused with a laugh as he pulled his finger out of your trembling body, before bringing his hand to your mouth. “Suck ‘em clean, baby.” 

You obeyed, letting him push his wet fingers past your lips, and doing your best job of licking them clean in just the way he wanted you to. You could fight him, could bite him, but what was the point, really? You’d tried escaping twice to no avail. 

Perhaps it was time to accept your position in life. 

Maybe you were on to something before, blocking out your memories seemed a kinder fate than living like this. Realising that you were never going to escape whilst being aware of every cruel thing he’d ever done. It was kinder than realising that you still harboured love for someone who had treated you so heinously.

There was no time for you to prepare before he was sliding into you. It wasn’t slow or gentle like you knew he was capable of, he didn’t want to waste any more time making you feel good, not when he’d already given you the grace of letting you cum on his fingers. 

After how you’d acted this evening he probably already saw that as being too kind. 

A pathetic little wail fell from your lips as he sheathed himself fully inside of you, the prone bone position that he’d put you in making him feel even bigger than he really was, his tip reaching impossibly deep inside you. 

“A-Ah p-please! Too much!” You whined, your pussy claiming around him desperately, unsure if it was in an attempt to force him out or keep him in. 

“I love fucking you when you’re scared.” he said with a laugh. “You get even tighter than usual, squeezing me like you’re afraid that if I pull out I’m gonna kill you or something.” 

That gave you pause, heart dropping at his words, wondering if that was his plan with the knife. Perhaps he’d fuck you until he was satisfied and then slit your throat for disobeying him for a second time. 

“Are you?” You asked quietly, trying to keep your voice steady even with the way he was stretching you out. 

“Huh?” He asked, stilling a moment as he licked a long stripe up your neck.

“G-gonna kill me?” 

He snorted. “No, baby. I love you. You’re gonna be at my side forever.” He nuzzled his face affectionately against your neck as he started to snap his hips against your ass, chucking at the way that you squirmed under his hold.

You weren’t sure if you believed him, your eyes moving to the knife that he’d so purposefully left in your view. But worry soon disappeared from your mind with each long deep thrust from the man pinning you down, whines falling from you endlessly as one of his hands played with your clit, the other pressing hard on your upper back to keep you subdued beneath him. 

Sukuna was far too skilled at making you feel good, forcing you to forget everything else in your foolish little head, completely lost in him. And today was no different. Through all of your hatred and anger you loved the way that he made you feel, adored the way that he focussed on you like you were the only thing that mattered. 

There was something wrong with you, there was no doubt about that as you cried out his name, your pussy fluttering around his cock buried deep inside of you, milking him for all that he was worth as you buried your face shamefully into the pillow beneath you. 

It wasn’t like you had an excuse this time, no convenient memory loss to blame for your enjoyment of your captor fucking you like this. This was all on you, and you were going to have to live with that for as long as you were in his grasp. 

Forever, you supposed.

Your mind was so hazy with pleasure that you barely reacted as he pulled out, rolling you over so you were looking up at him. He was smiling, gently brushing the hair out of your face for a moment before reaching out for the knife positioned on the bedside cabinet. 

You squirmed a little, fully aware that it was futile. He was much bigger and heavier than you, and with a sense of disgust you realised that all your resistance was doing was turning him on, his bare cock twitching against your abdomen as you writhed. 

“This is for your own good.” He cooed, dragging the tip of the knife loosely along the divot between your two breasts, smiling at the goosebumps that appeared on your skin. “If you stay still it’ll be easier.” 

“Please don’t- I’m sorry! I won’t try and escape again, I promis-”

“I’ll make this as painless as possible, baby.” He cooed. “Although, if it does hurt you should remember that this is your own fault.” 

—

He shouldn’t have been surprised when the police came knocking. 

Of course someone had seen you that night - you’d probably made plenty of noise running through the building and out onto the street. For the most part he’d been getting by on the hope that the police were lazy, that they had bigger fish to fry than what would just look like a domestic dispute to any bystander. 

It wasn’t like you looked like yourself anymore. Your hair was too long after months of not having it cut, and your muscles had deteriorated significantly from how you’d looked as an idol. Not to mention your general aura had disappeared ever since he’d broken you. You no longer carried yourself with the confidence of a celebrity. 

Now you were the kind of person that people wouldn’t glance twice at, which was exactly what Sukuna had wanted all along. 

But clearly his assumptions had been wrong, because three days after your little escape attempt, Officers Okkotsu and Inumaki were at his door, asking if they could come in for a quick chat. 

He’d let them in, of course. That was what you had to do in these situations. If he turned them away it would be suspicious, and he couldn’t have that. This wasn’t his first encounter with the police, he’d been arrested several times in his youth and was very familiar with how the system worked. 

As long as he was nice, and civil, and said everything that he needed to say, it would be fine. There was nothing to worry about, you were tied to his bed anyway, and he’d taken a lot of time soundproofing the room. He just couldn’t trust you not to act up right now, so the two of you were essentially back to square one. 

If you wanted your freedoms back you’d have to earn them. 

Stupid girl.

“So, we’re here because of a report that we received from one of your neighbours. You were recently seen with a girl who looked visibly distressed, and were reported to have been forcibly dragging her back to your apartment. Could you explain the situation to us?” 

One of his neighbours? It was probably that nosey old bitch from a few doors down, always looking out of her peephole and coming out to chastise Sukuna for watching TV too loud at night, even though he knew she couldn’t hear it, she just hated him because he had tattoos. 

“Oh, she must’ve seen me and my girlfriend.” He said, without missing a beat. “My partner has mental health issues and often becomes a danger to herself when she’s having an episode. As you’d see if you pulled the building’s CCTV, she was in nothing but a nightgown and was panicking when I found her. I was bringing her back here for her own safety.” 

Not really a lie. 

“Mmm.” Officer Okkotsu nodded, before glancing around the room, eyes lingering on the many posters and figures of you that still littered his house. “Were you a fan?” He asked, gesturing to the merchandise. 

“I was.” Sukuna said solemnly. “Not sure why you guys are wasting time with me when whoever snatched her up is still out there.” 

“There’s still a task force on the case.” Okkotsu replied, eyes narrowing as he stared at Sukuna. “Is your girlfriend here? It would be helpful if she could corroborate your story.” 

“Sadly not.” Sukuna said evenly. “She’s at work right now, she won’t be over until later.” 

“That’s a shame. We’ll just have to come by again this evening.” Okkotsu said with a sigh as he got to his feet, his associate doing the same. 

Sukuna’s guard remained up even as the men moved towards the door, and he was glad it did as Okkotsu stilled just before the exit, as if taking in the many locks lining the door. The man turned back to him, expression neutral. 

“Paranoid about security?” He asked. 

“Sure. Can never be too careful these days with spying neighbours and whatnot.” Sukuna responded casually, but his hand slowly started to slide into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around the swiss army knife that he kept on him for moments like this. 

“Mmm. You know, I was wondering what your girlfriend thought about all these decorations.” Yuta said, gesturing to the posters of you lining the room. 

He shrugged. “Not much, really.” 

Fuck. This guy was clearly sharp. So far Sukuna had avoided any sort of suspicion from the police surrounding your case, but it was clear that Officer Okkotsu wasn’t so keen to let him off the hook. Being seen dragging a girl, a girl who his neighbor no doubt described, paired with his obsession with the idol that everyone knew you as made things tricky. 

All he needed right now was for these policemen to leave. They didn’t have anything on him yet except circumstantial suspicion. If they went back to their station and reported their findings that would give him enough time to skip town unscathed. That was fine. 

“I don’t think my wife would be so accepting!” Okkotsu said with a laugh, doing his best to ease the tension with a smile. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom before I go?”

The last thing Sukuna wanted was this guy moving about his apartment without supervision. There was no doubt in his mind that this was simply the officer’s attempt at trying to snoop around a little more, to understand if Sukuna had been lying to him. But if he were to tell the man no that would simply raise more suspicion - they’d perhaps even ask him to come down to the station for questioning. 

Looks like he was going to have to let things play out in the unpleasant way. 

He sighed, before glancing up at the officer with a wry smile, his mind already made up. 

“Sure. Its door directly ahead at the end of the hall.” 

—

Your eyes widened with surprise as your door opened to reveal someone other than Sukuna. A young man - a police officer by the looks of it, his wide eyes growing ever wider at the sight of you, haggard and naked and chained to the bed.

Although covered with a second skin, the brand that Sukuna had carved into you was clearly on display between the curve of your breasts, the red scar of your captor’s trident insignia shining out as an even more effective stake of ownership than something as simple as a collar. 

If this were any other situation you would’ve been humiliated that a man that you didn’t know was seeing you in this compromising situation - completely naked and vulnerable. But right now it felt like a blessing because this was a police officer, someone who could actually save you from this hell had made it into Sukuna’s apartment. 

Was Sukuna dead? Had he been arrested? Was this nightmare over? 

For some reason the feeling made you uncomfortable, the thought of your pattern being disturbed, of not having Sukuna there every day to dictate your actions caused your stomach to churn with anxiety. 

Fuck, what was wrong with you?

The man was quick to close the door, hurrying over to you and busying himself with the ropes holding you against the bedframe. “Hold on, let me get you out of here, I knew there was something off about that freak.” 

His voice was low and that set you on edge - he was in here without Sukuna knowing. 

You shook your head quickly, the vision of Gojo’s eyes flashing through your mind. You couldn’t have a trail of corpses strewn out behind you, this man could have a family, a child waiting for him to return home only to be informed that he was missing or had been discovered dead in whatever sorry place Sukuna decided to dump his body. 

And that would be on your head. If you didn’t exist none of this would be happening. Gojo would still be living his life - as would your driver, your security guard, and anyone else who had the misfortune of crossing Sukuna’s path in his pursuit of you. 

You should be the only one taking on the burden of Sukuna’s wrath. You’d stay here in his grasp forever to save the lives of those he’d annihilate to have you remain as his. That’s what you’d decided, as long as he was living you were his. 

It wouldn’t be so bad. 

“No- no no no, you need to get out of here.” You whispered urgently. 

The man looked up at you in surprise at the sound of your voice, doing a double take as he examined your face, as though he hadn’t gotten much of a good look when he first entered the room. 

“Oh my god, you’re her.” He breathed. 

“No, I’m not anyone.” You hissed desperately. “Please just go!” 

The police officer shook his head, continuing to fumble with the knots. “No way.” 

Perhaps in that moment you should’ve been hopeful, over the moon with joy that someone had finally found you and was so deadset on helping you. But all you could feel was dread as the door slowly opened once more, the hulking figure of the man who you shared your bed with skulking into the room. Your eyes went to him instantly, body seizing up at the knowledge of what you were about to witness. 

You’d hoped that your reaction would be enough to tip off the officer in front of you, but he just seemed too starstruck, overly captivated by the fact that he’d just found the idol that everyone was looking for. 

By the time he followed your wide-eyed gaze it was too late. 

A knife was lodged straight through his throat and swiftly removed, blood spurting from the wound as the officer reached up to try and stem the flow of blood, only to collapse on the floor beside the bed. 

You couldn’t scream, couldn’t find it in you to really react outside of taking several panicked breaths at the nonchalance with which Sukuna had killed. Blood was already smeared on his face, likely from some other poor police officer in the other room.

“Sorry baby.” He whispered, running a bloody thumb tenderly over your cheeks, smearing the substance over your face. 

Part of you wanted to flinch away, but the more twisted part of you had become desensitised to his behaviour, and in a sickening manner you wondered if you might even find this romantic. The way that he was gazing at you was so gentle and concerned, his red eyes wide and glowing.

And as he leant in to capture your lips with his, that tangy metallic taste of blood flooding your mouth, you couldn’t help but think that you weren’t as repulsed by this situation as you should’ve been, almost enjoying the lengths that he would go to to keep you his. 

Because it was romantic right? A man who would burn the whole world to ensure that you remained at his side. 

At the end of the day he didn’t want to hurt you, he just wanted to keep you, and he’d stop at nothing to achieve his goal. It was better for you and everyone around you if you simply went along with it. Besides, you didn’t want him to cut you up again. 

Things were so much better when you were compliant. 

—

Three years later

There was a knock on the door of your cabin - a surprising occurrence in this remote part of Hokkaido. Ever since Sukuna had moved you out of Tokyo a couple of years back you’d become unaccustomed to ever seeing other people, looking out of your window and only generally encountering snow and nature. 

So with Sukuna down in town getting some work done for the day, you felt on edge as you cautiously opened the door, struggling to do so with your pink-haired toddler writhing about in your arms. He was getting harder to hold now he was two, he had developed into a large toddler, no doubt inheriting his size from his father, making picking him up a real workout. The fact that you were heavily pregnant with a second child certainly didn’t make things easier. 

Managing to get the door open, you froze up at the sight of two police officers standing on your porch, a shiver of fear running through you. Sukuna would usually handle these sorts of encounters, you weren’t used to dealing with them yourself. 

“Sorry to bother you, miss.” The officer said with a smile. “We’ve been on the search for the long missing lead singer of ROUGE, and someone in town mentioned that you bear a striking resemblance to her. I’m sure it's just a coincidence but we’re always pushed to follow any leads when it comes to her!” 

You tilted your head at them curiously, readjusting your hold on the toddler in your arms, his chubby hands grasping your hair softly. 

“Oh, sorry - what exactly are you asking?” You asked quietly.

“Well.” The two officers exchanged glances, the one speaking taking a moment to scratch his head in embarrassment. “I guess, are you her? Sorry, I know that’s a weird question.” 

You giggled, quietly at first, before bursting out in full-blown laughter, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you doubled over. Your toddler was giggling too, always keen to be in on the joke. 

At your reaction, the police officers chuckled quietly, understanding what a ridiculous question that was to ask of a woman who was so clearly free to do as she pleased. 

It took a while for you to compose yourself, standing up straight and wiping your eyes, meeting the gaze of the officers before you, who clearly wished they hadn’t wasted their time making the trek up to your isolated home. 

“Am I her?” You asked, your voice coming out breathless. “Of course not.” 

masterlist

a/n: love making evil sukuna a winner!!!

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! reblogs and replies are appreciated!

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he swallows – hard. specific. 

not controlling. not possessive. 

reciprocal. 

snap.

“romi?” you ask, voice lilting. you bound over to where he’s sitting on the couch. he fumbles with the remnants of the box, shoving the broken willow haphazardly to make room for you. 

“yes?” 

you're standing in front of him now, a single hand on your hip. when you open your mouth to speak, the thought leaves your mind. like it went blurry. edges of the words fuzzy enough for you not to remember them. 

“i need you,” you whisper.

it comes out a desperate whine.

his eyes widen. 

that wasn’t what you were going to say. 

the sharp edges of your nails dig into your palm. his eyes drop to your hands before meeting your gaze again. you sigh, exasperated and annoyed – inching closer to where he’s sitting. before he can speak, you settle in his lap. 

for a moment, a terrible, shameful part of him is relieved. 

“what were you going to say before that?” he questions, adjusting himself as respectfully as he possibly can. 

you tilt your head, thinking. 

“i don’t actually know.”

higuruma stills, 

he clears his throat. your lips press right under his jaw while your hands roam. the jingle of you fumbling with his belt buckle rattles him out of his thoughts.

“did.. you take something?” he groans out. 

you jerk back, face scrunched – like he asked something heinous. 

“no,” you shake furiously. “i can’t…just need you?” 

his eyes soften, his lips curling into a subtle smile. 

“of course you can,” he says softly. 

his heart drops to his ass. 

you lean in, kissing him frantically. his arms wrap gently around your back, pressing your chests together. your fingers thread his hair, tugging just enough to expose his neck. 

leaning back, you open your eyes –sliding both hands to his neck. 

this could be bad.

but he can’t help but look at you. 

dazed. 

bothered. 

and tragically – needing more. 

“how do you..” he pauses, breathless. “need me?”

tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. that ugly gooey feeling rises. it itches in your chest and floods everywhere else. 

you’ve never needed someone more than right now.

higuruma searches your face slowly. 

you sniffle. 

“uh-,” you struggle to find the words. “everywhere, romi.” 

he freezes, jolting back at the request. 

that wasn’t an answer. 

a nervous laugh escapes him. 

“what?” 

“everywhere,” you repeat, frustrated. your leg bounces furiously as tears streak your cheeks. 

“i just do.”

you avoid his gaze, tracing the outline of the print in his pants. 

his breath shallows, watching the way your fingers dance. 

“can i.. please?” you mutter, pulling at the zipper. his face flushes red, nodding as he brushes your hair back. 

that was all you needed.

you pull the zipper down with shaky fingers, freeing his length from his boxers. he’s already hard, twitching in your hand the second you even touch him. 

you stroke him once, slowly, mesmerized at how he leaks in your hand. 

“i can’t–,” you stutter. “i don’t know why i need this so bad.”

his head falls back against the couch with a low groan, fingers instinctively digging into your hips. his cock twitches against your palm, betraying him completely. 

“you realize this isn’t making me any less worried, right?” he hisses. 

you whimper at the sound of his voice – low, strained, wrecked beyond compare. he knows he should pull away but you lean in closer, chest pressing his as your hand keeps stroking him with slow, needy pumps. 

“i know,” you breathe into his neck, voice shaky and wet with tears. “i’m sorry– i just… i can’t stop. it’s never been like this before.”

“before?” 

higuruma lets out a shaky exhale. 

“are you sure?” 

“yes,” you whimper, pressing a soft, hungry kiss right on his collarbone. “but it hurts, hiromi. right here–” you take his free hand and slowly guide it between your thighs, pressing his fingers against your soaked panties. 

you never call him hiromi.

“it aches so much. please… just a little.”

something in his chest twists, equal parts raw fear and uncontrollable desire. 

he stays quiet for a long moment, just watching the way you writhe in pleasure. his fingers press a little firmer against your core, rubbing gentle, lazy circles over the drenched fabric. 

“does this help?” he asks, voice low and full of worry. 

you nod, lining yourself up and sinking down slowly. the head of his cock presses at your entrance, slowly stretching you open as you ease down. 

“romi?” 

“hm?” he hums through gritted teeth.

he’s buried to the hilt inside you. you feel so full it makes your head spin.

“i think something’s wrong with me..” you giggle – light, airy, and a little delirious. 

a low, strained chuckle escapes him, but it quickly turns to a groan when you clench around him. 

“just.. stay like this for a second.” he pleads. 

it takes about three seconds before you give up obeying. you rock your hips in little circles, trying to be discreet. 

and for a moment, you both almost finish. until you open your mouth to say the most unsettling thing. 

“you promise you’ll fix it, right?”

🏷️: @chososbbygrl : @katemira : @chaoticcrashofkk : @gyusheadphones @yorikae @jaminari