indie updates

Sure, the transformations to Sukuna's body, to his DNA, might stop.

But you didn't know that.

And with this latest mutation, you were beginning to worry about the growing chance these changes might not be reversible.

Yeah, you wouldn't mind it if he permanently had two cocks to plow you into the mattress with, but you had told him you'd take care of him.

That you could handle this.

And what the hell had you accomplished?

No matter how much blood you'd drawn and tests you'd put him through, all your fixes had failed.

"Tell me," he demanded, grabbing your wrist in an attempt to make you look up at his face. "How much time do we have?"

You guessed you weren't as good at hiding your concern after all.

Even if he hadn't overheard last night's conversation, he clearly had already anticipated that this current pace, your current plan, none of it was sustainable.

"We should go to the lab," you murmured, ignoring his question as you shrugged his hand off of you and got out of the bed. Picking up last night's clothes and hurriedly putting them back on.

"You really think you're just suddenly going to find something to undo this?" He snarled, and you tried to tell yourself he was just upset.

Lashing out from the lack of control he had over himself, trying to take it back with you.

"I have to try," you hissed back.

You had been the one to do this to him. Even if he let you, he'd only done it because he believed in you.

How the hell were you supposed to betray that?

Even if he had the misfortune of being correct after you spent the entire day going over lab results again and again trying to figure out what you were missing.

Where you'd gone wrong.

Tempted to tear your hair out as you glanced up at where he was sitting rigid on a too-small chair just outside of your office, Shoko pulled up to a stool next to him as she plunged a needle into a vein.

Having four arms did make it much easier to get his blood.

"So what'd you do in your last life to deserve this?" she snickered, drawing one last vial from the crook of his elbow as Sukuna openly glared at her.

"Can't you do this?" He called out to you, noticing your stare as he clenched his jaw, irritated at your mutual coworker's mockery.

"I'm busy," you muttered, rubbing the corner of your eyes as you tried to refocus on the data in front of you.

"I'll let Yuji finish you up then," Shoko hummed, returning his disdain with a bored shrug.

Cleaning up her equipment without even looking back at him, strolling away and calling for one of your junior employees to take her place.

You had actually hired Yuji because of Sukuna, even though he barely acted like they were related in the lab, feigning ignorance whenever anyone brought up the fact they were family.

"You could've said something," Sukuna petulantly suggested, as if you weren't already asking a lot from your team just to add onto their workload to help with him.

"I'm doing my best here," you muttered, your own fuse cut short with the weight of his problems and yours on your shoulders.

You wanted to believe that if you kept doing your best, you would find the solution. That every problem had one.

"Hey, boss," Yuji chirped, peeking through the open door of your office and waving before going back to where Sukuna was sitting. A vein was already bulging across his forehead, mouth twitching down in irritation.

He tried to hold himself together, to bite back his annoyance, but when he picked up the glass of water you had left there an hour ago, all the ice melted as the condensation dripped down the side.

But the moment he lifted it off the table, it shattered.

Despite seeing it happen, you still jumped, startled at the sound.

"Shit."

Everything was falling apart.

Even the glassware.

Yuji scrambled to grab a broom, cleaning up the mess as you stared at a now half-soaked Sukuna, his dark eyes burning into you as his hand was left holding nothing in the air.

He hadn't noticed that he was even bleeding.

Shards sticking out of his skin, dripping down to his muscled thighs as all the muscles in his face tensed.

You could go over.

Help Yuji pick up the rest of the pieces and fawn over his now injured hand.

But you were at capacity.

Debating on what invasive procedure you'd have to beg him to let you do, or whether or not to give chemo a try to see if you'd treated it like a cancer, you might be able to cure him.

Worrying about what his last straw would be, the moment he decided this was too much and gave up on you.

And if that happened, where would both of you be?

"Sucks that this happened to you," Yuji frowned, leaning over your boyfriend's body to pluck out a piece of broken glass stuck in Sukuna's wrist just to earn an aggravated grunt.

"I'm aware," he sarcastically scoffed.

"Jin misses you," he muttered, and you felt a weird twinge of jealousy at their connection. At the domestic side of his life you never got to see. To be apart of.

"He's fine without me," Sukuna derisively said, once again directing his anger at the wrong person. His nephew and his brother wanted to be there for him.

You wanted to be there for him.

And he wanted nothing more than to not need any of you.

For things to go back to how they'd been before.

"At least you have her," Yuji tried to offer his best attempt at consolation, sheepishly smiling, his fingers trembling as he tried to dislodge a particularly jagged piece from Sukuna's calloused palm.

"We wouldn't even be together if it weren't for this," Sukuna retorted, sharp and snarky.

You knew he wasn't wrong.

Had thought the same thing a thousand times since then.

But it hurt a lot more hearing it from his lips.

You grimaced, getting up from your chair and walking over to the door, refusing to look at him as you shut it.

No need to hear anything else that would just hurt your feelings.

At least you would simply have invisible scars.

You'd left more than a few marks on him.

You buried your face in your hands, exhaling as you leaned forward to just rest your head on the desk, knowing what decision you were being dragged closer and closer to.

Getting your eggs harvested didn't sound particularly pleasant. Knowing that you'd have a child that was half you walking around, maybe even multiple if you agreed to Gojo's offer was not exactly a dream come true for you either.

But you owed Sukuna his life back.

Even if he decided he didn't want you in it once you gave it to him.

Besides, hadn't he been through far worse because of you?

Growing extra appendages? Claws and scales and a goddamn tail because you made the choice to use dinosaur DNA to cure him?

You hesitantly picked up the phone, bringing it up to your ear as you dialed a familiar number.

The director answered on the second ring.

"Need something down there?" Suguru slowly asked, almost as if he could sense what you were calling him for.

"Tell your friend I'll make a deal."

But you’d been so stuck in all this muck, sucked down deeper the more you tried to squirm your way out of it, you couldn’t even tell which way was up anymore. Searching for any sign of familiarity when everything had already changed without you.

What if all there was for you to figure out here was that they’d left you behind?

Suguru would learn his lesson and treat his next girl better. Satoru would find someone who could return all his love.

And Sukuna would fix himself just to find out he never needed you at all.

“Do you want Sukuna to go on tour?” His therapist softly prodded you, snapping you out of your spiraling.

“I don’t know,” you defensively answered, too on edge to match his polite tone.

“How does him staying make you feel?” He questioned, and you could only shrug your shoulders.

“Don’t be like that,” Sukuna grumbled, and you shot him an annoyed glare.

You were only here because of him.

Was that not enough to see you were at least trying?

“It makes me feel irritated, I guess,” you begrudgingly admitted. “Like he’s throwing away everything he's ever given a shit about when I never asked him to.”

You wanted to be included. To be a part of his life and not a piece of furniture in it. To be there by his side when he succeeded.

Not have him give it all up just so the two of you could make each other miserable just for the slim chance you managed to work out.

"I'm not-"

"He always makes these dumbass decisions without me and just expects me to go along with whatever it is," you added, ignoring him next to you as you finally met his therapist's gaze.

He had introduced himself when you first walked in and you hadn't really paid any attention to it, a twinge of guilt seeping through at the amount of understanding behind his eyes.

"So you feel left out," he concluded, and you immediately revoked your remorse.

"No," you lied, a traitorous little huff escaping your lips.

"That's not what I'm trying to do," Sukuna argued, seeing through your shit. "I, fuck, I just want to be here for you, okay?"

You wanted to accept that.

So so so badly.

That piece of your heart that had belonged to him from the start was already trying to tug you towards him, begging you to just stop being a brat and go back to being his.

But you weren't the girl you'd been before.

Not the one who warmed his bed or waited for him after his shows or wished for a happy ending.

And you no longer knew if you'd ever be able to be the partner he needed.

Shouldn't he be with someone he wouldn't have to cancel tours for? Someone it didn't hurt him to want? Someone who wouldn't wreck the world he worked for?

"What happens when you wake up a few years from now and realize that you shouldn't have stayed? Or when we break up?" You argued, getting the awful sense it would be the last time you'd be asking either question. "You're going to resent me."

"For fucks sake, I'm not," he flat-out denied it, annoyance creeping into his harsh features at the fact he had to say it.

But it didn't make you feel better.

What were you supposed to say to make him see what you meant?

"All we've done lately is make each other's lives worse," you muttered.

Your sex tape was leaked. He assaulted your ex-boyfriend. You slept with your ex's best friend. He was cancelling his tour.

This wasn't sustainable.

God, he'd even gone and bought you a fucking apartment like the guilt of fucking Satoru was still burned into your skin.

"You have been the only light in my entire life," Sukuna half-growled, reaching across the couch to grab your hand, his calloused fingers gripping you like he needed you to believe him too.

You hated yourself for not being able to.

For thinking of all the times you'd seen him smile at someone else, or smirk up on an illuminated stage, hearing his voice calling out to an adoring crowd. Knowing that you only got the pieces of him he chose to gave you and being okay with it for so fucking long.

And because you had a habit of making every situation infinitely more terrible, you directed your attention back to the therapist who felt a lot more like a referee as you stiffly rolled your shoulders back.

"Did he tell you about my sex tape?"

The next four seconds could probably get an award for the most awkward silence imaginable, you staring at the therapist, who was looking over at Sukuna, who was surely scowling at you.

"Do you think that's seriously relevant right-

"I mean, I just wanted to know how much he already knew," you bickered back, trying to sneak your hand away from his only for him to hold on tighter.

"I would prefer if we stopped interrupting each other so we can have a more, ah, productive conversation," his therapist piped up.

Your skin was itchy.

Invisible bugs crawling over it that you were desperate to scratch and peel off, every word exchanged and sentence that sunk in just making all of it more unbearable.

Familiar indecision crippling you, twisted and contorted as you tried to resist falling into the trap of falling for Sukuna again and refusing to let yourself get hurt by him.

Were you just going to lose in the end either way?

"Do you think this, uh, sex tape is going to be an issue if you resume a relationship with Sukuna?" The therapist continued, and you at least knew the answer to that one.

"Yeah," you muttered, loathing the defeat in your voice.

"Why is that?"

Because it'll be over the day he watches what's on it?

That was it, wasn't it? What everything boiled down to?

Your own fear that if you accepted his love, he'd take it back the second he saw another side of you.

"Are you scared to say it?" His therapist unhelpfully prodded, and you had the distinct feeling of your heart being dissected. Layers of you peeled back and pried open until they were watching it beat and bleed.

"Whatever's on it, I-"

"You'll hate me," you murmured.

Oops. You guessed you interrupted him again.

"I'm not going to hate you," he insisted, and without even looking to your right, you could picture his expression. The gritted teeth, the grim stare. Eye twitching as he restrained himself from rolling them.

"I told Suguru I loved him in it," you confessed, as if that was the worst of your crimes.

Sucking on the inside of your cheek as you stared down at your bare wrist. Aware of the bracelet that had been stolen from you.

Torn away like your chance of a happily ever after.

"Sukuna," the man across from you evenly spoke, maybe sensing the tension crackling between you as your words sank in for him as he scribbled something down on the paper in his lap. "Does that change how you feel? Or-"

"It just makes me hate him more," he grumbled, and you shrunk closer to the edge of the couch. But what he said next just left you wishing you'd never shown up at all, "Makes me hate myself more too."

"Why do you think that is?"

You shouldn't be here.

You shouldn't hear this.

"Because she never would've fallen in love with him for the first place if I hadn't been such a dickhead in denial when I had her," Sukuna snapped, his raw voice threatening to crack. "It's my fault she even met him."

"You can't blame yourself for everything," his therapist tried to reassure him, but you were casting a cautious glance over to see Sukuna scratching the back of his hair with an emotion that looked a lot like shame on his face.

So distracted by how foreign it felt to see him like this, your brain didn't even realize the man across from you was speaking to you until he repeated his question.

"Is there anything you feel that you might be culpable for here too?"

A lot?

It would be a pretty long list if you started just naming off every messy thing you'd done since you decided you were done sleeping with Sukuna.

"This is a safe place where you can be honest and we'll work through it," he added, offering you a smile that actually seemed sincere.

Your lips slowly began to part, ready to just ruin it all. Put it all on the table and lose if you had to.

At least you wouldn't be in this limbo anymore.

"I had sex with Satoru," you admitted, hot tears you hadn't been expecting starting to well up before you blinked them back. "He was there in the tape too, but uh, we didn't really do anything until he showed up on vacation."

"You slept with Gojo?"

And there it was.

The rage.

You'd spent years trying to tame him, dousing him in water before his flames could turn into wildfires.

But maybe you were just fueling it.

"We were both drunk and just having fun, and I don't know, I asked him to come inside my room," you offered an explanation, not sure if it was even owed or if you were throwing gasoline on him once again.

"What the fuck?" He hissed.

You waited for him to say he was going to murder or maim Satoru, to make threats or ask what the hell were you thinking.

To ask why.

"I'm sorry," you swallowed your pride, offering a pitiful bob of your shoulders. "I know we're not together but it was still shitty of me to do."

Sukuna wasn't your boyfriend.

He'd never been your boyfriend.

But you weren't stupid enough to think that it made what happened totally fine.

Completely forgivable.

And maybe, some part of you didn't want him to forgive you.

Craved to not have to make the hard choice at all and force him to do it for you. To abandon you the way you had always suspected he would.

"Why would you-"

"It seems to me that you're trying to sabotage your relationship with Sukuna by sleeping with someone you know would upset him," the therapist hummed, and you faltered.

Physically flinched as you reflexively itched to reject it.

Yet you couldn't.

Just sitting there like an idiot and blinking back.

"You're scared of being with him."

You were.

But did he have to actually say it out loud?

You were bending over to snatch your bag from the floor rather than deal with it, ignoring both of them saying your name as you started towards the door, shoving it open and leaving rather than hear them break down all your inner thoughts.

If your head was clearer, not so clouded and stuffed full with him, you might've figured you wouldn't have made it out of the building without Sukuna catching up to you.

He grabbed your hand right as you reached the door, trying to stop you from going, but you just shook him off, stepping out into the rain as he followed suit.

“Can you please stop for a second?” Sukuna groaned, and you were once again reminded of another night you’d been shoving down.

One where you asked him if he loved you and he couldn’t answer.

“I don’t want to talk right now,” you childishly mumbled, convinced that if you do, you’d start crying, and if you crumbled, you’d let him console you.

“Then I will,” he stubbornly insisted.

The immature urge to cover your ears and pretend you couldn’t hear him was incredibly tempting, but you just paused in place, limbs threatening to tremble as the rain soaked through both of you.

"Just forget about the fucking past," he scoffed, grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around practically straight into his chest. “Can't this be enough? Can't I be enough?"

"How am I supposed to forget?" You retorted, poking a finger against his annoyingly firm muscles as you tried to pull back. "You don't get it. I literally lost everything, I-"

"I lost you," he snarled. "The albums, the money, the fame, they’re nothing to me.”

Now.

Why couldn’t he have realized that a year ago and saved you both the heartbreak?

“You’re my everything, okay? What the hell do I have to do? Get on my knees for you? Carve out my fucking heart and hand it over on a silver platter?” He was rambling, raindrops clinging to his lashes as he grabbed your finger and pulled it down.

“You’re supposed to be mad at me. I fucked Satoru while you were out buying me a beautiful apartment. Shouldn’t you be like, shouting or screaming, or something?” You argued, a fresh stab of hurt joining the rest seeing the way he recoiled from you when you pointed it out.

“So what?” He tried to sound tough.

Like he didn’t care when he so clearly did.

“Maybe you should watch the sex tape,” you shrugged, struggling not to shake, to be strong enough to say everything you needed to say. “See if you still think you love me then.”

“Stop saying shit like that,” he snapped, and it just made you more sure of your suspicions. “You are sabotaging us.”

“I think I need some more space,” you mumbled, knowing he was right and still refusing to admit it.

“You’re just running away from me. And I’ll be back at home tonight wondering whose fucking arms you’re in and why they’re so much better than mine,” he accused, finally letting a hint of that anger out. You felt a tiny hint of pride, knowing that he was finally getting the full experience of what he put you through for years.

But the truth was you were running away.

Avoiding him to avoid hurting yourself any more.

You only seemed to hurt him more when you were with him anyway.

Without you, Sukuna was doing great. He’d always been perfectly fine to fend for himself.

You didn’t want to stick around for when the sentiment wore off and it struck him you were the source of all his woes.

“Don’t be an idiot. Go on tour. Be there for the band,” you added, resignation replacing your regret as you sold yourself another half-truth that you were doing what was the best for both of you.

“Come back inside so we can actually talk about it,” he said, teeth gritted.

“I can’t,” you swallowed, shaking your head.

The idea of turning around and walking back into the building was too much. Sniffling as you wiped a wet streak from your face.

“I miss being your friend, but I really don’t know how to be anything with you right now,” you confessed, pulling yourself away from him even if it felt like you were cutting some heavy invisible cord connecting your soul to his.

It was selfish.

Impulsive.

Acting like a scared child ducking under a table just from a thunderstorm, before any lightning had even struck.

But it was the truth.

You loved Sukuna.

You just didn’t want him to destroy himself by trying to love you back.

He had been enough for you.

But now you weren’t good for each other.

He didn’t follow you this time.

Didn’t trail after you when you stormed off.

Sukuna let you go.

You didn’t stop until you were several blocks away, the drizzle from earlier turned into a torrential downpour, hair soaked and sticking to your face as you struggled to contain your tears.

How the fuck were you supposed to go back to the apartment he bought you?

Go sleep in that bed or curl up under the covers when you’d be seeing that haunted hurt look on his face every time you closed your eyes?

They were right about you.

You wished you were different.

Wished you could just be okay with all of it and pretend to be totally fine moving forward instead of standing on the sidewalk completely soaked as you stifled sobs.

Someone passed by under an umbrella, their shoulder nearly knocking into you as you looked up just in time to see them snickering and snapping a photo.

Disgust coiling bright and hot and unbearable at the realization this stranger had seen you naked - and now had the audacity to laugh at you for it.

Rather than panic, you reacted on impulse, taking the phone out of the dickhead’s hand and throwing it onto the concrete before stomping on it for good measure. Glaring right back at him as you dug the base of your foot into the shattered glass as you forced the lump back down your throat.

“I think you dropped that.”

“You fucking whore-”

Yeah, you were sure people were saying worse online.

But nothing could really compare to leaving someone you loved behind because you were too fucking terrified to let them love you too.

You shut him out the way you just shut Sukuna out.

Walking without really thinking until your teeth were chattering and it hit you that you weren’t sure where you were anymore.

Déjà vu washing over you as you looked up at the stormy sky, bottom lip quivering as you pulled out your phone to call the same person you had last time.

Suguru.

a/n: not gonna be online much in the next couple days but hope you guys enjoyed this

And not the cute, fluffy kind the boy down gravel road had. 

A werewolf pup. Somewhere between human and wolf, caught between two different forms and completely, totally feral. With scraggly pink fur and searing red eyes, barking out a low growl at you as he struggled to get out of your trap. There was…something in there with him. A small animal you must’ve snagged before he tried to steal it, only tufts of brown and orange left of it and bits of bone. 

But when you looked back at his face, the shape of his quivering mouth and the way his eyes widened with pure panic, you couldn’t help but feel awful for him. He was even smaller than you, scrawny and starving, his fingers trembling as he fought to break free. 

“It’s okay,” you tried to soothe him, swallowing hard to quell your own fear. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

You pulled out your knife, moving slowly to not scare him as you showed him the blade. From what you’d pieced together from your parents late-night hushed conversations over the town’s werewolf problem, they were intelligent. Had families too. Made their homes in caves rather than out of wood and stone. 

Was he your age? Maybe a year younger? 

Did he have parents out there waiting for him to return to them like yours were? 

“I’m just going to cut you free,” you half-whispered, careful to keep your tone even as you started to dismantle your own handiwork. 

You didn’t know if he could understand you. 

But his growling had turned into low huffs. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think he was impatient.

You worked faster, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you nervously stole glances back at the pup, hesitant to even think of him as a beast when he was so…scraggly? You’d always thought werewolves were vicious, too smart to get caught by a silly contraption like yours, strong enough to bust their way out of it if they did. 

“Okay, there you-” 

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence, the second he’d been released, that scraggly body of his was launching off the ground – and on top of you. Knocking you onto your back, all the air forced out of you as you let out a sharp gasp, trying to shove him off only to get the knife knocked out of your hand. 

And your wrists pinned by your head just a moment later, his claws digging into your skin as his iron grip bit into your bones. 

You were sobbing before he had even leaned in a little, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you squirmed and attempted to roll out from underneath him. “Pl-please don’t hurt me, I-I-” 

Blubbering like a baby, shaking your head desperately as fear struck a dagger of its own straight through your core, primal terror setting in as you began to sweat. Your whole face felt wet, your lip wobbling as you tried to stammer out another desperate plea for your life, as you realized what a moron you were for having pity for him. 

Starving dogs would always bite. 

He was growling, barring sharp teeth as his canines glinted in the afternoon light, ready to sink into your throat and tear it out. You had a momentary surge of strength at the thought you really might die, managing to almost wrestle free as you screamed for your family, one hand slipping out of his grasp only for him to lunge forward, his teeth sinking into your wrist to stop you as a flash of white hot pain shot up your arm and-

Stopped? 

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, squinting almost accusingly before the hurt morphed into a relaxing tingle, like your body was being bathed in warmth, shivering at the strange connection in his locked stare. All the apprehension disappearing, your anxieties melting as if you weren’t in danger, as if you weren’t surely seconds from death. 

And then he was letting go, recoiling away from you like he tasted something rotten, nose scrunched up before he started to sniff the air. 

Blood was dripping down your wrist, leaving red splotches on the plants beneath you as you scooted backwards, breathing hard and heavy as you debated on trying to make a run for it now, weighing the risk of if he’d pounce again. Feeling for where the knife landed, unable to bring yourself to break eye contact with him. 

His mouth opened again, not in a snarl this time, but before he could bark or speak, there was the rustle of branches behind you, your parents calling out your name with worry in their voices. You glanced over your shoulder, just for a moment, but by the time you looked back, he was gone. 

Disappeared deeper into the forest, into the safety of the thick brush. 

Leaving you with a wounded wrist and a funny flutter in your chest as you stumbled to your feet after grabbing the knife, stumbling back towards the sound of your parents shouting for you. 

You made it out of the woods with your life. 

A story that got you scolded for years to come too, not to mention a scar that made the townsfolk sneer at you for doing something so foolish. 

And a werewolf who just wouldn’t stop coming around. 

Although, it had taken you until your teenage years to figure out that you were being stalked by the creature you made the mistake of saving as a child. You found his fur on your family’s porch, tufts of pink left behind in the mornings your family never seemed to notice. Scratch marks etched against the walls, grooves left in the wood from claws that were meant for slicing through flesh. 

You caught glimpses of him. Sporadic at first, spread out between months and weeks. A flash of sharp teeth through the treeline. A phantom stare that seemed to constantly trail after you as you carefully kept your distance from the forest during the days while you tended to the farm. Hair pretty much perpetually raised on the back of your neck as you pretended you didn’t feel like you were being watched the second you walked outside. 

The livestock had stopped disappearing, at least. 

No more waking up to missing chickens or goats left with gashes strewn across the yard. 

Your parents thought that all the werewolves in the area had moved somewhere else. Retreated deeper into the woods or somehow all slaughtered each other, victim to their own instincts, their own aggression. 

You knew better. Kept waiting for the beast lurking and lingering around to…well, do something. 

Not just watch. 

You wondered if he was hoping for your guard to slip. If maybe he liked to play with his food before he scarfed it down. 

Every time you’d step foot into the forest, he would seemingly be there. One hand on a silver dagger, not that you thought it would be much use if he’d been able to pin you down back when you were still bigger than him, especially now that he had a massive frame that lumbered between the trees, too big to be stealthy if he tried. Yet, not a single other person had seen him. 

But you didn’t really have a choice. Someone had to collect herbs, had to get fresh water from the river, had to bring back branches and berries. 

And no one believed your stories of the pink werewolf who just stood there and stared without ever attacking. 

Everyone in town thought you were just a crybaby who called wolf. 

“Stop staring and hang those clothes up,” your mother huffed, an elbow digging into your side snapping you out of your daze. Daydreaming about a world where they all listened to you instead of ignoring every word that left your mouth. “The neighbor’s boy will be by soon.” 

Of course. 

You wouldn’t be their problem much longer anyway. 

Soon you’d be married off, sent to be the bride of the farmer’s eldest son next door. Most people married their daughters off the second they came of age, became adults who were too much of a burden to keep around, but your reputation had bought you a couple extra years. 

No one wanted to wed a woman who weeped about creatures the rest of the folk were desperate to forget about. 

Except for the boy with the bad temper you whispered to through the fence. 

You had only started speaking to him a handful of months ago, back when you were hanging the sheets on the line and overheard a rustling sound through the rotting wooden planks separating your family’s land from the neighbor’s. 

“Hello?” You called out, glancing over your shoulder anxiously, picturing a mass of pink on the other side. Considering the chance that you had gone crazy, cringing as you realized your paranoid mind might just be playing a trick on you. “Is someone-”

“Hello?” A man’s voice had echoed yours, equally uncertain. It came out all gruff, like someone was dragging a wooden rake over gravel, a rough rumble to it you automatically liked. 

He didn’t try to sound smooth or honeyed. No pretending, nothing pretty or pompous. 

And more important than anything else, real. 

“Oh, um, my apologies,” you awkwardly cleared your throat, not sure what to say to him, belatedly realizing it had to be the boy your parents kept bringing up as a potential marriage prospect for you. “I just heard a noise and-” 

“Did I scare you?” 

“A little,” you admitted, laughing it off as you stared at the wood blocking him from your sight. “There’s a werewolf that roams around here.” 

You waited for him to mock you for suggesting it. To dismiss your claim the same way everyone else did. 

“Oh?” 

He didn’t. 

You informed your mother that night you wouldn’t mind marrying him after all. 

And before long, you were confiding in him about everything. Sitting by the fence whether the weather was warm or cold, picking flowers while you poured out the years you’d spent looking over your shoulder, scared that you wouldn’t make it through another season. 

He never told you your suspicions were stupid. 

But he did tell you that if the werewolf hadn’t attacked you yet, there might be another reason it was there. Suggested one drizzly day that the object of your fear might actually be protecting you, that he could’ve scared off all the others that used to wreak havoc on your family’s farm. 

You had never considered it before him. 

But he made a point you were doing your best to talk yourself into believing. 

It had helped calm some of your nerves. Turn your nightmares into something more…managable. They weren’t scary anymore, just, well, strange. 

Your werewolf was still there. 

But your body no longer tensed with terror when he came close and crouched low. Your heart still thrummed, pounding against your chest as you reached out a hand, but the beast who occupied so much of your brain had begun to let you pet him in the scenes it conjured up. Stroking his surprisingly soft fur as his mouth parted to purr, sharp teeth hidden behind his curled-up lips. 

You had told your future fiancé about it, excitedly recounting the details as he gruffly hummed along. You asked about his dreams too, tried to return the favor he’d done you by easing your fears by getting to know him.  

But he avoided that altogether, always redirecting the conversation back to your day. What you had for breakfast or what chores your family would be making you do later. 

He didn’t flirt, never made any kind of crude suggestions of sneaking over the fence to spend the night — despite the rather unsavory reputation you heard he had around your village. 

When you got close, your knees pressed to your chest while you rested your cheek against the wood, sometimes you could almost swear you felt some invisible string tying you to him. A natural pull you had a hard time resisting, reluctant to ever end the conversation or step away when your heart wanted to plant itself on the spot. Fingers itching to pry apart the boards so you could see his face, touch his skin. 

You told yourself that it was a pretty fantasy.

Something your mind was weaving to keep yourself from actually going crazy from sheer loneliness. 

Despite all of your stolen conversations, the minutes you snuck away to speak to him, you had never met him in person.

Until today. 

You hurried to hang the clothes per your mother’s request, hands trembling as you worked and your head snapping over your shoulders as you hoped to hear his voice. 

“Are you there?” You called out, aware that you’d look as crazy as everyone said you were if you got caught. It was a miracle in itself that you hadn’t before now. 

But you didn’t get a reply. 

Brief disappointment burned through you, but you shut it down. 

Ignored the way it stung as you finished up, casting a wistful look back before returning to the house, stepping over trampled wild flowers and dying grass until you were climbing back up the stairs to your porch. 

Your head hanging low, mulling over what you’d actually say when you got to see him. 

“Ahem,” your mother cleared her throat, and your stare snapped up to find her waiting for you with-

Oh. 

Your shallow disappointment immediately deepened into a lake you could drown you. 

“Hi,” you breathed, struggling not to let your dismay show for the man in front of you. He wasn’t awful looking. No, he was attractive, you guessed, in his own way. 

But he didn’t fit what you had in your head. He was too…clean? Normal? 

His eyes weren’t filled with the warmth you dreamed they’d have. They were cold. Slipping over your frame cautiously, as if he was calculating what he should make of you. 

You didn’t feel that tug towards him, no spark or gravity drawing you in. You didn’t feel anything for him. 

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” he greeted, nodding as his stare dipped from your face to your chest. 

He didn’t even sound the same either. 

Could a piece of wood really change the quality of his voice that much? 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” your mother chirped, disappearing back inside like she wouldn’t be watching through the window. 

“You don’t have to pretend like you don’t know me,” you said once you were sure she at least wasn’t eavesdropping. Telling yourself that you were surely just overthinking everything, trying to claw back some comfort in your one safe person. “Speaking to you has often been the highlight of my days these last few months.” 

He looked at you incredulously, mouth curling up in a sneer you’d seen so many times before. 

It was the one you usually got in the market from the townsfolk who thought you were mad. 

The delusional farmer’s daughter. 

“We’ve never spoken before.”

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

Would you be mad at him for murdering your fiancé? 

Sukuna mused on how hard it would be to catch that imbecile off-guard and slice through his throat as the idiot scoffed and sneered at you. 

He always knew it was a matter of time before you figured out your future groom wasn’t the man on the other side of the fence. 

But he thought he had a little more time. 

To warm you up a little more on the whole werewolf thing. 

He heard the fear in your voice when you first talked about the pink beast stalking you through the woods without realizing it was the creature you were so terrified of that you were crying to. 

It wasn’t like he wanted you to think he was a fucking creep. 

But the longer he stayed away, the harder he fought and resisted the bond tying you to him, the more of a monster he became. Slowly becoming more animalistic, giving into the primal parts of him, pain scorching through every muscle and limb and threatening to melt his mind when he strayed too far from your side. 

Werewolves needed their mates. 

And you were his. 

Bonded from the moment he bit you, his heart claimed to only beat for you from that day forward. Most werewolves had packs to keep them sane. Families they counted on to maintain their control on the monstrous parts of them that would go unchecked without that connection.

He had been an orphan. An abandoned pup who figured out how to survive on his own. 

Lone werewolves, the ones like him, eventually became more wolf than man if they never found their other half to hold onto. Too aggressive to ever come close to someone that could tame them. 

Sukuna had learned to make due with what he had. 

You’d gotten good at avoiding him, running from him the second you caught so much as a glimpse, which honestly, was rather rude if you asked him. 

Forced to creep up to your house at night, prowling around your porch to protect your farm from any other predators that might come sniffing around. Sleeping beneath your window at night just so he could stave off transforming into more of a beast, telling himself that he wasn’t being weird as long as he didn’t peek through to watch you dream and drift off in your bed. 

He only ended up talking to you through the fence out of impulse. 

Creeping along the other side of it to stay close to you and keep his instincts at bay, knowing those morons next door barely tended to their fields enough to notice him even during the day, caught off guard by the sound of your pretty voice calling out to him. 

A single conversation was enough to have him hooked though. 

And he was nothing if not addicted to the tiniest tidbits of your attention. 

Desperate to feel the faintest warmth of your affection.

Sometimes, he was tempted to burst through the rotting wood, rip the whole fence down until he was face-to-face with you, shake your shoulders and beg you to see that it was him, that every part of him belonged to you. 

Humans didn’t feel the bond the same way werewolves did, but he wanted to believe you could sense it too. 

You had kept coming back. 

And now you were standing on your front porch, frozen with a different type of fear that he could feel from here. 

Your emotions seeping into his, curdling with his own shame for screwing everything up with you from the start. 

He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he could tell you were stammering, your lips quivering just for the man in front of you to laugh. Reaching out to pat your head condescendingly before jutting a thumb back towards his own property. 

Sukuna was silently begging you to shake your head. 

To keep your feet firmly planted on your porch. 

You were too soft. Too trusting. 

The sort of girl that set him free. Let a wild wolf pup loose with no regard for your own safety. And apparently you never learned your lesson judging by the way you began following that fool back to his house. 

Clueless that his own family had conveniently left it empty for him to have his way with his future bride. 

Sukuna had listened to your complaints about the way you were treated by everyone else. How no one else ever seemed to see what you did. No one else cared to believe you when it was more convenient not to. 

You had trusted him. 

And now you were putting this faith in that man because he hadn’t told you the truth? 

Sukuna knew what would happen if he let you go inside with him, snarling as his claws started to grow, the bones in his fists cracking and popping as they formed a fist, creeping just deep enough to not be spotted as he trailed after the two of you until you crossed over onto his property. 

He kept hoping you’d turn around. Tell him that you weren’t sure this was a good idea. 

But you didn’t. 

Even if the look on your face was nothing short of sharp discomfort as you walked up a winding path to his house. 

Shit.

Sukuna was really going to scare you this time, wasn’t he? 

But he wasn’t just going to let you stay there alone with an even bigger predator. 

One who wouldn’t hesitate to bruise your skin or make you bleed for his own pleasure. 

He stepped out, his canines barred as his chest quickly began to rise and fall with heavy breaths, aware that there really might be no going back from this as he waited for just one of you to look back. But no, that asshole just slid his hand down the small of your back, attempting to grope your ass through your dress and ignoring the way you were recoiling from him as you tried to politely brush his arm off. 

Rage ripped through him in one hot burst, spilling over and souring any chance of his sanity winning out. Only half-monster this time, pink fur sticking out across his back as he lumbered forward. He didn’t have a real plan. Or any plan. 

Just the deep-seeded instinct to protect you at any cost. To not let another man lay a finger on you.  

Your husband-to-be never saw him coming. 

Blood splattering across the grass as he hit the ground from just a shallow scratch, whining in pain like a baby before Sukuna delivered a swift kick to his skull. 

It wasn’t particularly powerful, but he supposed humans really were just that much weaker given how fast it seemed to knock him out. 

“Sorry,” he growled, glancing over to you, expecting you to scream at any second, give him away. But you were stuck in place, those big eyes that had haunted him in his memory for so long finally locked onto his. More tears welling up in them, your shoulders shivering as the explanation on his tongue died. 

Your hand reflexively reached for your wrist, the scarred skin there still raised from where he’d clamped down on it as a child, and he flinched, guilt curdling in his stomach. 

He hated that he hurt you. Hated that he was terrifying you now. 

The bond burned, being so goddamn close to you, able to feel all your fear, all your messy emotions tangled and twisted together, your heart racing so fast he could hear the wild thumps as he tried to force his body to revert back to his most human form. 

“He was going to hurt you,” Sukuna defended himself with a low growl, kicking his limp body on the ground for a second time, like it would make himself feel better. A man like that would only waste your life. Force you to work the fields for him, bear his children and still pretend you were the burden. 

You blinked, sucking in a broken breath as you stared at him. The terror that had been radiating off of you fading faster than he expected as your pretty lips parted, as if you pieced together the rest of who he was on your own. 

“You’re-” You started, unable to finish the sentence. 

“I’m protecting you,” he grunted, before you could come to any other conclusion. 

You’d given him this life. He was devoting it back to you. 

“Why would you do that?” You whispered, unsure of whether or not to stay or sprint as far from him as you could. Your stare quickly shifted back to the body on the ground, biting your lip when you realized he was, unfortunately, still breathing. 

“You’re my mate.” 

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

The werewolf you’d spent well over a decade running from had declared you were his mate – and the man you thought you’d marry was bleeding in the grass. 

Great. 

You were blinking back tears, torn between twisting away and taking a step closer. Your blurred vision started to clear as you hastily wiped away the damp streak from your cheeks, starting to see the werewolf in front of you as what he might have been this whole time. 

Your protector. 

Were you a moron that misread everything? 

Maybe. 

Or were you once again a fool about to fall for his trap? 

He’d done it to you before, hadn’t he? 

A small voice in your head suggested that you were thinking about it wrong. You had set him free. And now he was repaying that favor by saving you from spending the rest of your years chained to a stranger.

“What did you mean about him hurting me?” You tentatively asked, jaw tensing as you stole another peek at the man bleeding onto the already dead grass. 

“You’re not that naive,” he scoffed, his mouth twitching when he looked too like he was tempted to kick him a third time. 

Your mouth pressed together in a thin line, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you replayed the way he tried to grab you despite how derisively he laughed at you before. How he commented that he didn’t really care if you were crazy before glancing down at your cleavage. 

But you had still walked with him anyway, starting to think that maybe you were losing it, that you were simply so lonely, you’d made up all those long conversations. Convinced that some jerk who just wanted you for your body was the best you’d be able to get. 

“So it was you? This whole time?” You asked, trying to make the pieces fit together in your mind as you pictured him on the other side of that fence. Listening to you complain about him. “You never said-” 

“Can you blame me?” He grunted, shrugging his massive shoulders up like it didn’t bother him.

“I called you a creep, like, a thousand times,” you pointed out, bottom lip quivering as you found yourself teetering on the verge of an apology you couldn’t decide if he deserved or not. 

“Yeah,” he grimaced. “If I stay too far away from you, it’s hard to stay human.” 

Your heart lurched. 

Eyes lingering over him as you realized that he could almost pass for human. 

Disarmed by how different he looked up close. His broad chest outlined with defined muscles, bulky and thick with scars and markings crisscrossed and etched deep into his tanned skin. There were sparse spots of fur that appeared to almost…shrink the longer he stood in front of you. 

And not a scrap of clothing to cover his rather large cock. 

You’d never seen one in person before. But you had overheard some of the girls gossiping about the men they were seeing in the market, comparing sizes to fruits and giggling about how they rarely seemed to make good use of them. 

Were werewolves just more well endowed? 

Heat coiled in your stomach, more enthralled than you should be as you got distracted by the shape of it, the way it curved a little to the left, a thick vein running along the side of it as your breath got stuck in your throat. 

His tail wagged behind him as he stepped closer, something irritatingly familiar inside you instinctively aching to move towards him too. 

That invisible string pulling tight, tensing up at the proximity of his presence, trying to draw you into his space as you felt what little resolve you had to resist him crumbling by the second. 

You didn’t want to stay here. 

Didn’t want to spend your life as the wife to an asshole or be the disappointment of a daughter your family treated you like. 

You were already an outsider in your own village. 

Why not give being a werewolf’s mate a try? 

It wasn’t like your situation could get much worse. 

“So,” you started, clearing your throat as you dragged your stare back up to his face. “What now?” 

“Would you run away with me?” 

In a strange way, his serious grumble felt romantic, his hand outstretched and all those sharp claws retracted waiting for yours as his red eyes pried apart and pierced through your soul. 

Somewhere deep inside you, you knew that you were never going to say no. 

That your path was always going to wind back to him one way or another the moment you slid your palm into his. 

Still, you kind of thought he’d be taking you back to some poorly-constructed hut in the forest made out of twigs and branches – not an actual cottage of his own. 

Buried deep within a twisted grove of trees tightly-spaced, tucked away far enough you doubted any hunters or folk from your village would ever discover it on their own. 

It was old, vines sprawling over the walls, the thatched roof freshly-repaired as he pulled you through the front door. The inside was nice, a little small, but comfortable. Furniture mix-matched, most of it either roughly handcrafted or well, stolen, you supposed. 

“This is yours?” You asked, stepping inside as he shut the wooden door behind both of you. Slipping off your shoes, not sure if that was considered polite or not in werewolf culture. 

“Uh-huh,” he wryly nodded, not even glancing around when his gaze was focused solely on you. Looking at you sort of like you might be his next meal. “

“And I’m your mate?” You continued, mostly just wanting to hear him say it again. Confirm whatever this funny feeling inside you was. The connection that seemed to just intensify with each passing breath, each step he took closer. 

“You’re mine,” he murmured, bridging the distance in just two long strides. He didn’t touch you. Not yet. Just let his calloused palm hover above your cheek like he was considering it – and using every ounce of his restraint not to cave in and caress you. “And I’m yours.” 

“Do you want to be?” You swallowed hard, finding it hard to hold yourself back too. To not feel how firm his chest was, to not skim your fingers over his defined jaw. “Or is it just part of your werewolf-” 

“I want to be,” he shook his head, like he didn’t even want you to entertain any other idea. “I want you. I think I’d want you even if we weren’t bonded.” 

Enough to sit there and resist the bond between you for months while you whined and whispered about your boring life. 

Enough to stop you from being sent off in an arranged marriage. 

You got up on your tiptoes, letting your fingertips ghost over his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his in a timid kiss.

It was meant to be soft and slow. 

But the second your mouth connected with his, it was like someone had set your skin on fire. Pleasure you hadn’t planned on racing through your limbs, across your body in one massive rush. Shuddering at how sensitive everything abruptly was, abruptly aware of the breeze in the air, the pressure of his hand as he grabbed your waist and pressed your body up against his. 

As if it hurt for there to even be an inch between his chest and yours. 

His tongue danced across your bottom lip, asking for entry you quickly granted, exploring your mouth with a flattering fervor. 

Your thighs were already pressing together, warmth pooling as your walls clenched around nothing. But in between the heat, you felt a funny throb starting to build, begging for attention. 

“W-what’s your name?” You asked, belatedly realizing you still didn’t know it. 

“Sukuna,” he muttered, fingers sliding around to splay possessively over your spine, his steps guiding you back as he kissed you again. 

His tongue slipped back in your mouth as his hand travelled over the rough fabric of your dress, pausing to tch at how it rubbed against your skin. 

Sukuna was quick to pull it up over your head, throwing it down on the creaky wooden floorboards as he pushed open the door to his bedroom. 

You had a brief flash of contemplation, wondering whether or not you were really about to offer your virtue up to the beast that had been haunting you for well over half your life. 

But then you gave him another onceover, felt that fierce tingle travelling straight to your core, and you were committing to the animal inside you too. 

He pinned you to his bed in a flash, although it looked more like a nest. A few of your clothing items, shawls and dresses that had gone missing over the last couple years you assumed your mother had thrown out were all bundled up on the surface along with a tattered blanket, the warmth of his own scent mixed with your sweeter one striking you the second your back hit the thin mattress. 

“Are those-” Your voice died in your throat at how alarmingly cute the sheepish expression that crossed his face was. 

“I’m sorry,” he begrudgingly grunted an apology, jaw tense as he paused on top of you, his hands on either side of your head, hesitating like you might slip out and make a break for it. 

“What else did you steal?” You tried to tease, fingers loosely running over your old shawl close by.

“Nothing,” he grunted, not particularly believable as your lips curled up in a smile. 

Was it morally questionable? 

Yes, but when you’d wasted so long thinking that no one would ever like you, finding a man obsessed with you was too intoxicating for you to second guess it. 

You leaned forward and kissed him again, trying to match the frenzy behind his lips, a fever of your own starting to make all your thoughts feel loose, fuzzy. 

Limbs relaxing as your cunt started to ache, your fingers brushing through his soft hair, feeling his furry ears as his tail thwomped against the bed fast. 

His cock was digging into your thigh, throbbing and twitching with every little move you made. 

“You smell so fucking good,” he groaned, moving down to leave a messy trail of kisses down your jaw, over your throat as he began to sniff you. 

Sucking in deep inhales, grunting as he ran his tongue in sloppy circles over your nipples, lapping over your exposed skin with no real rhyme or reason. Skimming his teeth over the sensitive peaks, letting out lewd noises like he was the one being driven mad with his mouth. 

Nipping at you lightly, travelling lower until he was hovering over your pussy. 

“Jus’ need a taste,” he breathed, and before you could even fully spread your legs for him, his tongue was pushing inside you. 

It felt like he was trying to devour you. 

Lick up every single drop, dragging his tongue against your walls in messy strokes, dipping in-and-out at a mind-melting pace. 

Nails clawing at anything on his bed for grip, gasping for air as he lifted your hips off the bed so he could dive even deeper. 

None of the girls had ever talked about this. 

His thick digits were digging deep into your thighs, keeping you there as he worked his tongue in and swirled it with a devotion you were struggling to handle. 

You were losing it. 

Unravelling at a rate you never expected, wiggling and whimpering at how good it felt. How right it was to run your fingers through his soft strands. 

And despite it all, you were still greedy for more. 

Aching for him to stuff you with something bigger than his tongue. 

“P-please take me,” you whined, ruffling his hair as you peered down at his position between your soft thighs. 

His dark eyes widened, pupils completely blown, just a thin ring of red left as he processed what you had said. 

You didn’t take it back. 

Lips parted as you sucked in a shallow breath, silently daring him to do it. 

Before you blinked again, your thighs were being pressed up against your chest, squished and squeezed as he lined his leaking length up against your entrance. 

“Yeah?” He huffed, eyes narrowing as he saw the sweat starting to drip down your forehead, the way your thighs tensed and trembled before he even slid in. “You want me too?” “I do,” you nodded, feeling almost like you were making a vow you wouldn’t be able to take back as he pushed the first few inches in.

The pressure seared. 

Your stomach twisting into knots as your walls desperately squeezed down around him. He had to go slow, not desperately rutting or shoving, just slowly sliding into your warmth, his saliva and your slick making it easier for him to enter. 

“You’ve been keeping this from me this long?” He asked, his voice raw and reverberating through you as you found yourself looping your wrists around his neck. Thick tendons straining and flexing as he unclenched his jaw, your thighs straining from the way his fingers dug into your supple flesh. 

“I thought you were going to eat me,” you argued, pouting as he tilted his head back, using every ounce of his focus when his cock slipped in deeper, starting to rub against all those sensitive spots you had a hard time reaching yourself. 

Your own hand was nothing compared to him. 

“I might,” he chuckled, low and gritty. 

Tension thrumming thick in the air as you looked down and realized he still hadn’t bottomed out, your lips parting as you stared at the connection between your bodies. 

That intoxicating tingle you’d felt when he kissed you back had returned, your body squeezing and clenching and…changing? 

It finally struck you what was happening. 

His cock was literally molding you around him. 

The bond working its weird werewolf magic to make sure you’d be able to accommodate him not just comfortably, but pleasurably. So you wouldn’t be in pain as he pushed you to your limits. 

“Is this normal?” You gasped, not sure if you should be grateful or freaked out as he slipped another thick inch in. 

“You’re my first,” he shrugged, the lump in his throat bobbing like he was currently too preoccupied just by the way you were wrapped around him to think straight. 

“And werewolves don’t have multiple mates?” You questioned, lips pursed as you felt his cock prod that soft, spongy place in the back, your back arching up off the bed just for him to press you right back down. 

“You can’t be serious right now,” he froze, his cock twitching in time with his mouth. 

“I’m just asking,” you frowned, but he was quick to fuck your pout off, pounding back into you as you saw something in his face shift. 

Crack. 

Coming undone as he struggled to slow down once he started, his pace just picking up as he kissed you to wipe away your silly assumptions. 

“You’re it for me, got it?” He grunted, the taste of you on his tongue as he kissed you again. 

How were you supposed to not fall for that? 

Not turn to putty for him to play with when his calloused hand slipped down the inside of your thigh, the tantalizing tips of his claws lightly tracing over your skin to tease you. Swirling the tip of his fingers over your clit, toying with the bud there too as he ruthlessly rutted into you like an animal in heat. 

Was that all the two of you were now? 

“M’sorry,” he moaned, his mouth right next to yours as you sucked in a broken breath. “I can’t hold back.” 

“You don’t have to,” you whispered back, your voice all airy, half a pitch too high right as he rolled his hips forward, forcing the last few inches in. Your eyes rolled back in response, a whimper ripped from the back of your throat. 

Perhaps you should’ve asked Sukuna to reign it in a little. 

Because moments later, the base of his cock that already barely fit started to get bigger. 

He was knotting you. 

And somewhere in your lust-addled head, you liked it. A primal voice in the back of your brain begging to be bred. 

For him to fill you up and never let you go. 

“It’s-” You started, struggling to get any coherent words out when it didn’t feel like you had any room left in you for anything.

“Too much?” He grunted, starting to slip back out, to release you before it was too late. 

But you pulled at his hair, squeezing your thighs and sorta wishing they were wrapped around his waist instead to stop him. 

“No,” you spat out, straining to shake your head as he stalled there. “I need it.” 

You needed him. 

The idea of being apart, separated just a little suddenly seemed hellish, like it would be sheer torment to not feel the full force of him lodged inside of you. 

His knot stretched you out, your nails raking mean scratches down his massive back as the base of his cock continued to swell. Unable to so much as squirm, stuck in place as he split you open on his thick length. 

And truly? You wouldn’t trade him for any farmer’s son. 

Wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than here, in this cozy cottage being fucked stupid by a werewolf. 

He might be a beast, but at least he was wholly yours. 

His fingers returned to rubbing soothing circles over your swollen bud, coaxing you towards a climax as he staved off his own. Lips leaving kiss after kiss across your face, your thighs still held against your chest by his weight alone, folded and straining as he fit all of him inside of you. 

“You don’t know how crazy you make me,” he growled into your throat, and you were starting to think you had an idea. 

Infected with his intensity, itching for release as he dragged you to higher and higher peaks of pleasure. 

Sukuna rocked into you hard and fast, those pointy teeth sinking just above your collarbone to claim you, hard enough that you were sure you’d bleed, but it just heightened the bliss still burning beneath your skin. Unlatching just to drag his tongue over it in warm licks, his sniffing not stopping even as he sucked and kissed the sore spot better. 

“Make me wanna put pups in you,” he continued, half-delirious and drunk on you alone as his hips smacked rudely into your skin. 

“Do it then,” you half-whispered, so close yourself as his thumb pressed down delectably over your clit, the thin string in the pit of your stomach holding you together ready to snap right there with him. 

Sukuna’s head snapped up to you for just a second, the fading light of the day casting shadows across his face as he let out a ragged little laugh like you didn’t know what you were requesting of him. 

He looked softer somehow, shoulders more relaxed, his thrusts slowing as he stared, becoming more steady as you felt blinding need warping what little sense of reason you had remaining. 

You were digging at his shoulder blades, thighs trembling as you leaned up to kiss his throat this time, craving even more of him. Tearing at his skin as you started sucking on his collarbone, leaving lovebites that made him grit his teeth and groan your name while he fought the parts of him that made him so different from you to start with. 

“I’m gonna cum, fuck,” he hissed, barely holding on as you nodded along.

His fingers roughly massaged into you faster, to make sure you came right as he did, your body shaking as you broke down for him, pretty little stars splashing across your vision as you scrunched your eyes shut and probably left a fresh set of scratches across his skin, feeling him shudder and shake on top of you as he called out your name again. 

You let out your moan, something that was supposed to sound like Sukuna but just came out strangled, too stuffed to really care about anything other than the size of him still filling you up so entirely. 

Unable to move back or forward, feeling something wet on your face as the scent of sweat and sex and something sweet invaded your senses. 

You let go of his shoulder blades, blinking a few times as you went to rest your arms over your head instead – just for him to snag your wrist and flip it around to examine the scar his old bite had left there.

“I guess I’m your problem forever now, hm?” You asked, the bond between you feeling a little less like a thin string and more like a heavy chain tying you to him. 

Unbreakable. 

“You’re not a problem,” he wryly muttered, not quite as amused as he tenderly dragged his thumb over the marred skin. “Just a brat.” 

Like he wasn’t the one whose cum was plugged up inside you thanks to his still-throbbing knot. Keeping him locked in place as you blinked up at him with damp eyes, tears of pleasure streaked down your cheeks this time.

Sukuna cleared his throat, his pretty jaw tensing as he stared down at the narrow space between your bodies.  

“So, uh, how do you feel about werepups?”

meanwhile reader’s fiancé

You had been pretty closed off. Keeping all of them at a distance, claiming you just wanted to focus on final exams, avoiding actually interacting unless it was in group settings. Fuck, he even texted Sukuna to see if you were still going to work, but you had stopped answering his messages after your argument. Recoiled back into your shell and desperate to repair the cracks in it you let them see.

So much for giving you a great send-off for the school year before graduation.

Did you feel like it ended for you the same way it started? Alone?

Or did you at least consider them your friends now?

Graduation had come and gone without a change. Your parents didn't even show up to watch you receive your diploma. And you ditched all the after parties for the comfort of your room - although Satoru had cancelled the big blow-out barbecue he'd been planning previously, still turning people away from his door the rest of the afternoon and into the night who showed up expecting one of his usual ragers. Even though you were both living together, Satoru had told him that he saw the kittens more than you.

But despite your distance, you'd still decided to come with them to the post-grad trip they'd been planning before all of this stupid shit had started to spiral.

Suguru hadn't been sure if you wanted to come though, or if this was just another thing your parents had pushed you to do.

He guessed he couldn't complain this time.

Not when it meant he'd actually get a week where he could try to bridge the distance, to break through the barricades you'd hastily rebuilt around your heart.

You couldn't exactly run or retreat from your feelings when you'd be spending your nights under the same roof and your days on the beach together.

Especially with no Sukuna to steal you away.

You were the only reason he was even able to be here now.

Suguru couldn't go back in time. Couldn't talk himself into having the courage to just talk to you in person instead of letting himself get catfished.

The best he could do was cling to whatever tiny chance he could find to change your fate and his.

"How are you?" He asked, clearing his throat as he took half a step closer to you. Hoping his hand would just happen to brush against yours. Aching to just lace his fingers with yours to feel like a couple one more time.

"Okay," you mumbled shyly, trying to smile at him like he wouldn't be able to see it didn't reach your eyes.

You smiled at Satoru.

Why the fuck did he always have it so much easier?

"His mom wanted me to come, but I'm actually pretty excited," you added, attempting to lighten the mood. Nudging against him playfully, your glossy lips catching the light.

"Have you been there before?" Suguru asked, forcing himself to make the conversation casual.

To not sour it by being too serious.

He didn't want to disappoint you. To ruin an ounce of your fun when you had a lifetime of it ripped from you.

"No," you shook your head, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "But I heard it's beautiful."

"I can think of something prettier," he evenly hummed, the words slipping out reflexively as your mouth clamped shut abruptly, shoulders going stiff as your eyes widened with surprise.

Shit.

He shouldn't have said that.

But it was too late to take it back, and honestly, he didn't really want to.

"I don't think you should flirt with your best friend's fiancée," you finally said after a long pause, reluctantly meeting his stare like you didn't want to be saying it.

"You wouldn't be his fiancée if it was up to you," Suguru responded, as if you needed the reminder.

Did it make him an asshole?

He didn't know. He sorta felt like he didn't know anything these days. Fumbling to find his footing when the world just kept crumbling, the crack between you growing by the day.

"It's not up to me," you murmured, no tears welling up in your eyes today, but a resigned sort of sadness that somehow made it all worse.

"You're not married yet," Suguru pressed, throwing a quick look over to where Satoru was still standing in line, playing on his phone rather than paying attention to the conversation happening behind him.

"Suguru," you said his name so softly, so considerately, he could hear what was coming before you even opened your mouth again. Well fucking aware you were about to confirm everything he'd been worried about in the past couple weeks with just your next shaky sigh. "I know it sucks, but I'm trying to just deal with it."

You were folding.

All your alone time lately was surely you talking yourself into this. Disentangling yourself, slowly snipping away all the heartstrings tying you to them in a matter of self-preservation. Convincing yourself you'd be okay, that they would all be if you played the martyr.

"You shouldn't have to-"

"I know," you stopped him, offering an apologetic smile as you rested your palm on his forearm. "I'm just tired of making things messier than they should be."

"There's nothing wrong with you wanting more out of your life than," he bluntly retorted, gesturing over to Satoru without really meaning to, fumbling for his next words, for the right thing to say to make you see that it was too soon for you to give up. "Than this."

Than marrying a man you didn't pick and punishing yourself for just craving human connection.

"I don't know," you mumbled, removing your hand from him as he resisted the urge to grab your shoulders and shake you out of this. The most he could do was follow after you, snagging your wrist and spinning you back around to face him. His pretty girl. Helpless and hurt. Looking at him with those tender eyes as your lips parted again, "I feel like all I really did was hurt you and Sukuna."

Like you weren't the one hurting even more.

As if either of them were fucking scared of your mother.

What the hell did he have to do to make you see he couldn't care less about the repercussions if it meant you would be happy?

"Don't worry about us," he grimaced, sure that Sukuna would probably say the same thing. Might actually shake you too if he overheard this bullshit. "You're the one-"

"Who can make it easier on everyone," you stopped him, before awkwardly coughing to clear your throat, tilting your head to the side to signal that a certain someone was coming back.

"Am I interrupting something?" Satoru chirped, passing you a small pink drink with a cheeky smile.

"No," you answered before Suguru could, his jaw clenching tight as he watched your lips wrap around the straw to take a slow sip.

"I think they're gonna start boarding soon."

And Suguru had already screwed things up from the start.

Keeping to himself as the three of you returned to the rest of your small group, letting them talk as he watched your reactions, studied the way you played with your fingernails. You had painted them purple, a soft shade with a fresh coat of lacquer over it.

You kept catching him looking, your lips pushing out in a pout as you tried to nudge him with your elbow to get him to stop staring.

Suguru wasn't sure he could stop if he tried.

Which, uh, he didn't.

Just eyed you a little more discreetly instead, pretending to listen and nod along to whatever they were talking about while his brain raced to work out how the hell he'd get through to you.

He promised Sukuna he would.

Swore that he'd make sure you wouldn't throw in the towel before either of them had managed to make their first move.

And while he worked on winning you back, making you believe that there was still a chance, your former boss had begrudgingly sworn to take care of the cats - and look into your parents while they were occupied with wedding planning.

He doubted your mother hadn't made it this far without making more enemies other than her daughter.

But even if she hadn't, how hard could it really be for Sukuna to break in and steal a few documents without getting caught?

They might live in a gated community, but that just meant they were probably the type to leave their doors unlocked.

"You want help with that?" He muttered, gesturing to your bag once you both made it on the plane, Satoru a few steps ahead while you stared down at the ticket in your hand. "What's your seat number?"

You held it out for him to see, and he felt a rare flicker of relief return to him.

"You're next to me."

Thank fuck.

He took that back about three seconds later at the realization Satoru was sitting in the same row.

You would be sandwiched between them.

“I kind of thought you’d both be in first class,” Suguru admitted, pushing your luggage up overhead as you slid into the seat, your knee already brushing against Satoru's as he manspread in his typical oblivious fashion. Satoru was already staring out the window, bright blue eyes squinting at the runaway before looking back to chuckle.

“And leave you back here bored without us?”

His mouth curled up in a smile, but Suguru was still childishly stuck on us.

Knowing there was nothing he could do but pretend he didn’t care, that envy hadn’t crawled under his skin and started slithering towards his heart when he had to sit next to you and listen to you casually chat with his best friend - who might really end up your husband if he couldn’t come up with something soon.

If Sukuna did manage to get the rest of your documents, would that be enough for you?

What would make you feel safe enough to snip yourself free from their control?

“i guess they must have given you your passport back,” he muttered, leaning in to talk closer to your ear.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to take it back afterwards,” you mumbled, pulling your passport free from your pocket and passing it to him.

For a girl with ridiculously wealthy parents, there were barely any stamps in it.

He flipped through it again, as if it would magically make more appear, pausing on the photo of you that was clearly taken more than a couple years ago.

“Look at you,” he hummed, drawing out the syllables as he stared at your picture. You were as close as you could get to frowning at the camera without your lips physically curling down, eyes burning with something you’d lost somewhere along the last few years.

“I was having a bad day,” you huffed, nose scrunching up as you snatched it back from him and stuffed it in your pocket.

How many good ones did you get?

Suguru pulled out his own, holding it out for you to assess, enjoying the way your expression lit up when you realized he was returning the gesture rather than just teasing you.

“Your hair’s so much shorter,” you giggled, squinting as you held his passport up to his face to compare, and he’d let you laugh at him all you wanted if it meant he’d get to see you grin like this.

“That bad?” He asked, arching up a brow like he wasn’t coaxing you into a compliment.

“It’s cute,” you reassured without thinking about it, stare lingering on the photo before you placed his passport back on his lap. “I like it.”

If you only realized just how much he liked you.

God, it was fucking pitiful.

Pining on a plane for a girl promised to the one other person he deeply cared for, talking in circles around everything he really wanted to say.

Around what you clearly didn’t want to discuss.

Not when you knew he’d change your mind.

You pretended to be absorbed in the in-flight movie, sharing a set of earbuds with him so you could watch together, ignoring the way your thighs kept rubbing against each other.

As if the touch was anything close to innocent when he kept glancing over to find you watching him more than the movie.

Was this supposed to be enough?

Was he meant to spend the rest of his life wondering what-if and overthinking about these tiny moments he managed to steal with you?

Suguru couldn’t fucking stand the idea of you being the one that got away.

Or that he wasn't the one for you at all.

Satoru wasn't helping either.

Leaning against you constantly, tapping your hand and talking to you like you were an old friend, discomfort pooling and threatening to drown Suguru watching you end up sitting in the shotgun seat of the rental car after the plane landed.

That ridiculous ring glittering every time the sun's rays hit it, your hand resting on the center console a little too close to Satoru's arm as he drove the oversized van all of them had piled into.

Everyone was talking over each other, excitedly chattering over plans to go swimming or sight-seeing, but Suguru was just staring like a moron at the back of your head.

What were you thinking?

Did he even want to know?

You seemed so resigned. Like you found a little freedom in just letting yourself getting taken by the tides.

Would you want a life preserver if he threw one to you?

He hadn't come any closer to figuring it out by the time they made it to Satoru's vacation house, right there on the beach, painted a bright shade of blue that just hurt his eyes.

But it was big enough for them all to get a room, and the second they were all out of the van, his friends were scurrying to go claim one - with you trailing awkwardly behind them.

Suguru slung his bag over his shoulder, about to jog to catch up to you, but Satoru beat him to it.

Asking what you wanted to eat tonight, a stupid, simple question that shouldn't mean anything.

It didn't mean anything.

So why did it feel so fucking shitty?

Suguru didn't pick out a room. Just dropped his bags inside a few seconds after the two of you walked through the entrance.

And when no one turned, no one looked, he just started towards the back, unlocking the back door to go out on the wooden porch that led out to the shore.

Was he being dramatic?

Yeah, probably.

Not that they would notice.

Sitting on the sand as the waves washed in, exhaling as he tried to desperately tune out the sounds filtering out of the house he slipped out of. The bass thumping behind him after Satoru must've set up the speakers, the sound of your soft giggle from before ringing in his ears as he rested his face in his hands.

You might be a damsel in distress, but this wasn’t a fairytale.

It wasn’t Suguru’s story.

He was just a side character trying to steal the princess and play the hero, holding out hope that you'd choose him when he'd never be able to offer you what you deserved.

But he still wanted to make sure you had that choice.

That you weren't going to spend the rest of your life wishing he'd done something to change the plot instead of sitting on the sidelines like he was now.

The past few weeks without you had been so empty, he wasn't sure how he made it so long like that before.

But now that he knew what he was missing, he couldn't bring himself to fill that spot in his heart back in.

He just had to learn how to live with being a loser in love with you.

"Hey."

His head snapped around, the lump in his throat bobbing as his eyes locked onto you.

You had changed into a bikini, one of those see-through coverups thrown over it as you trekked through the soft sand with a pair of flip flops in your hand.

"Shouldn't you be back inside?" He asked, forcing himself to drag his stare back up to your eyes.

"Shouldn't you?" You returned the question.

"I'm just thinking," he shrugged, swallowing the drool pooling in the back of his mouth as you walked over and took a seat in the sand next to him.

"About?" You asked, a hint of nervousness in your tone that gave you away.

"You already know I'm thinking about you."

But before you were forced to reply to that, his phone began to loudly buzz in his pocket.

Of course.

Because clearly, he couldn't catch even the smallest of breaks.

Begrudgingly, he pulled it out, frowning automatically at what he found on it. Whose name was currently displayed on the caller ID.

Sukuna.

God, it better be good.

“Shit,” he cursed, feeling an invisible vein in his forehead throb as his finger hovered over the screen.

“Is something wrong?” You innocently asked, looking like a goddamn angel in the setting sun, basking in the fading warmth as you cautiously watched him too.

“I’ve gotta take this,” Suguru grimaced.

And for a guy who was used to planning five steps ahead, he still hadn’t expected what he would hear on the other end.

“So, uh, I got arrested.”

a/n: if anyone wants to be added to the taglist or has previously requested and was missed, pls comment on this chap and let me know :3

“You could take me with you,” you hummed, giving him your best set of pleading eyes as he felt the once shriveled organ he called a heart squeeze at how sincere you looked. 

“I-” 

“Shouldn’t I be there anyway if it’s about our wedding?” You insisted, and despite his reservations, the only thing he was weak to was you. 

So he dragged his finger over the ribbon, slicing through it and the thick fabric easily as he cleanly cut each and every restraint keeping you tied to his bed. 

You had requested your own chambers when he first abducted brought you here, but these days, you rarely even stepped foot in them when you’d taken to staying up sleeping in his sheets. He liked your little scowl when you peeled off the now torn dress from your body, getting out of bed and rubbing your wrists with a haughty huff befitting your status. 

His future queen. 

“Happy?” He grumbled, shoulders rolling back as his greedy eyes dragged over the shape of your breasts, mouth watering enough he had to swallow his own spit. 

“No,” you sharply scoffed, striding over to your now-shared closet as you swiped through the selection of outfits he had made for you. “That was my last pink dress from home.” 

“I think these suit you much better,” he dryly replied, having to keep himself from snarling at your disdain for the clothes he’d chosen. So what if they showed a little more skin? “But if you wish, I’ll kidnap your dressmaker.”

“Can’t you just hire him?” You asked, giving him that look, like he was somehow testing your patience. 

Personally, he found that most prisoners, or well, workers only did their best after some time in the dungeon. 

But he didn’t mind bickering with you about it. 

Not when it made him almost feel like you were already married. 

“I guess,” he begrudgingly grunted, making a mental note to send a koopa down to find him tomorrow for you. 

Watching you get dressed was nearly as intoxicating as seeing you strip, studying the lines of your body, the way you moved your limbs as you squeezed into the tight outfit he was absolutely correct in assuming would look fantastic on you. Eyes glazing over as he committed and etched the image of you in his head, content to capture you like this in a painting later, frame it and hang it up in his private study as a new permanent fixture. 

Sukuna was not accustomed to compliments. 

But he found himself awkwardly clearing his throat, reaching out for you right as you glanced over your shoulder at him. 

“My bride is beautiful,” he muttered, his voice coming out all low and gravelly as heat creeped up his neck and threatened to color his cheeks in an obvious blush. 

Forcing himself to look back at the barred windows, biting the inside of his mouth until it drew blood. The thick taste of iron on his tongue as a delicate digit tapped his much larger hand. 

“Thank you,” you softly said, tempering your tone as you laced your fingers through his. “Shall we go?” 

He wasn’t stupid enough to assume you truly loved him back. Not the way he loved you, at least. 

Knew damn well that this could just be some attempt to get his guard lowered enough for you to escape. 

You might just want to know what their plans were. Where he’d send his troops of koopas to claim the land that used to be yours. Figure out any weak points. 

It didn’t matter. 

He wasn’t going to give you the chance to take advantage of it. No matter how much he might loosen your leash. 

Still, the walk through the air ship was rather peaceful. 

The warmth of your palm pressed against his, your skin brushing against his, those quick glances you’d steal up at him when his shell bumped into you. 

The koopas were already waiting for him there, crowded around the table and chattering before they all froze at the creak of the door swinging open. 

Turning to bow down before him, his ego inflating at their easy obedience while he caught a glimpse of you rolling your eyes to his right. 

“Oh no,” he deadpanned. “It appears there aren’t enough chairs.” 

It would be easy to have a koopa scramble to fetch one for you. But just lazily walked over to his throne and sat back in it, spreading and patting his thighs while you stared at him with an adorable attempt at a stern expression. 

He could picture you presiding over meetings like this back in your own Kingdom, addressing those morons in your dominion as if they even deserved to speak to you at all. 

And now here you were, climbing on his lap in a tiny outfit, looking more like a concubine than a dignified princess. 

“You did this on purpose,” you muttered, not that you actually seemed mad. More like you were pretending to be – acting out a role you knew you were supposed to fill.

“How?” He dryly mocked. “I didn’t know you were coming.” 

Well, sure, perhaps part of him suspected you’d protest being all tied up and ask to tag along. But the chairs were just a coincidence. 

You shuffled on his lap, trying to get comfortable like he couldn’t feel the way you were quivering already. 

That was the part you were horrible at hiding. Because despite that sweet mask you liked to wear of a proper lady, you couldn’t disguise your attraction to him, couldn’t pretend to be distinguished when he’d seen how much you craved his cock every night. Derived a certain degree of pleasure in him ruling over you instead of the other way around. 

“You’re cruel,” you half-whispered, as if he somehow humiliated you when he could smell how horny you were. 

You were cute when you were trying to be strong. 

What would that plumber of yours think of you on his lap like this? 

He supposed he’d take care of that business after the wedding. Once he had bound you to him for good. 

“Lord Sukuna, we received a report from the koopas stationed-” 

He waved it away, shaking his head before he could even finish. 

“We’re discussing the wedding tonight,” he interrupted, running a calloused palm across your waist, feeling the way you shivered at his touch. “Since my bride is here.” 

It would all belong to him soon enough anyway.

Your heart. Your home. 

He’d conquer it all. 

ཐི♡ཋྀ

You hadn’t meant to fall for him. 

He was meant to be the monster in the tale. 

The scary villain that needed to be slain. 

A beast you were supposed to hate by the end of the story. 

You’d grown up with plenty of fairytales. Romances spun about princesses who were saved by brave knights and lived happily ever after. 

You had always thought you would marry a guy who wields a sword instead of spewing fire, someone steadfast and pure hearted. 

Sukuna was stubborn. Strange. Hot-headed with that horrible temper of his, with claws that looked made for slashing rather than clumsily clutching the stems to bouquets you could hardly believe he picked for you. 

You stared at his sleeping figure. The tattoos inked against his tanned skin as his chest slowly rose and fell. 

His mouth parted, the low roar of his snore starting up as you untangled yourself from his heavy limbs. 

The meeting had run far longer than either of you had anticipated, heavy eyelids drooping from exhaustion with you still on his lap. And even when it ended, he just yawned and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you back to your room with one hand while the other rubbed his exhausted eyes. 

He didn’t even try to fuck you. To your disappointment. 

Just plopped you down in bed and joined you there, strong arms wrapping around you before he promptly passed out. 

But no matter how many sheep you counted in your head, or how hard you shut your own eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to fall asleep.

Your brain was buzzing, hyperaware of his touch, of his breath, a big ball of tension coiling tight in your core as you tried to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs. 

For a guy who kinda kidnapped you, the least he could do was have a smaller dick so you didn’t have to think about how good it felt to be fucked full of him constantly. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, shuffling off the bed slowly, stare still trained on him as you avoided waking him up. 

Usually though, once he was out, he wouldn’t stir until the sun was slipping through the cracks in the porthole he called a window. 

Now, there were only a handful of candles lit to illuminate the dark, your engagement ring glittering in the low light. It was big, and well, a bit gaudy, a ridiculously large pink sapphire glinting in the middle surrounded by small diamonds embedded into a gold band. 

Something that screamed you were taken from a mile away. 

He’d gotten down on one knee, the spiky shell on his back seeming even bulkier when he was all bent down like that, popping open a velvet box to propose to you like you were a normal couple. 

A year ago, you would have scoffed at the idea of him bowing to anyone. Laughed that someone might say yes to him.

But your own affirmation had come a bit too easily for even you to conceal your own crush. 

Could you call it that? 

Shrink your feelings down to something more comfortable to swallow? 

He rolled over, and you froze, throat constricting as you waited for his body to realize you weren’t there and wake him up. 

Instead, he grabbed the pillow, squeezing it tight as his nostrils twitched. Sniffing the scent of you left there before he let out a soft sigh and settled back into dreamland. 

When you watched him like this, all peaceful and pleased, you could almost trick yourself into thinking that this could last forever. 

But your feet were creeping closer to the door, heart thumping rapidly as you tried to quell your troubled mind with reassurances that you wouldn’t get caught. 

This could be the only opportunity you ever got. Your only chance to just leave. 

Your parasol had just been lazily stashed in a storage closet by one of the koopas, so it wouldn’t even be hard to snag it and slip off the ship. 

All you’d really have to do is find the courage to jump and float down. 

Of course, you’d need to hope that you weren’t drifting over anything dangerous. 

But considering you were sharing close quarters with someone as feared as him, who had enough strength to probably split your former plumber in two, you supposed whatever was below couldn’t be much scarier than what you’d be leaving behind. 

Were you scared though? 

Truly? 

Did his pointy teeth hold any terror anymore? When was the last time those sharp claws of his inspired even a sliver of apprehension? 

You had started to see them differently. Him differently. 

Anticipating the next time he’d sink his mouth on your skin and leave love bites. Fantasize about him scraping his claws down your back. Intoxicated by the weight of the restraints he liked to tie you down with. 

Was it fucked up to be horny instead of frightened? 

Yes, but that wasn’t exactly something you wanted to unravel while you were tiptoeing across dim hallways thinking about the logistics of an escape plan. Where would you even run to? 

Find some tropical island to take shelter in and hope none of the ape-ish men there would make things worse? 

You couldn’t just abandon the mushroom kingdom either. 

Leave the land you’d sworn to protect behind for him to seize in your absence. 

If you stayed, you could still rule over them. Ensure their safety – and your own. 

Although, you were sure it was only a matter of time before a certain someone attempted to take you back. 

Gojo seemed to think simply saving you was enough. 

He was always busy with Suguru or racing karts or doing other stupid shit that made you feel more like a second thought than a lover who was special to him. 

Sacred.

You wanted to be worshipped. 

Not strung along or simply sucking it up to see how long you could suffer. 

You were a princess after all. 

What purpose did you have if you weren’t born to be revered? 

Perhaps that was why when you opened the door you stopped in front of, the first thing you saw wasn’t your parasol staring back at you – but your own face. 

A hundred of them. 

Canvasses of different sizes, some hung up on the walls and others lined up against each other, one still on the easel in the center of the room as you stepped on the crinkly plastic tarp laid out and covered in paint splatters on the floor. 

Who said a villain couldn’t have hobbies? 

You hesitated as you gazed at his latest portrait of you, the soft strokes, the delicate touches that seemed incapable of coming from his massive hands. Each one was deliberate. This painting captured you in a candid moment, your head turned to the side as you leaned over the edge of the ship, the sky behind you and the sun on your face. Some of the others featured a…more flattering version of him next to you. 

Ones that made him look more regal.

More like a man instead of a monster by your side. 

Gojo would have scoffed. 

Said it was cheesy or stupid or came up with some other cheap insult to diminish his work. 

But it made your heart stutter. 

Slam faster into your ribcage the longer you stared at yourself. 

This was how he saw you. 

And it was how you wanted to be seen. 

You could blame it on reason. 

Say you had a responsibility or you were just doing what was rational. 

But you simply didn’t want to run away. 

Would it truly be so horrible to marry him? To be his wife and rule two kingdoms instead of one? 

Maybe give him a Sukuna Jr.? 

A loud bang exploded in the distance. 

The sound of wood splintering and faint crashes that seemed to get closer by the second. 

Oh well. 

It seemed your groom-to-be had woken up. 

You didn’t budge though. 

Just folded your arms across your chest as a chill ran down your spine and waited for him to find you – even as his gruff voice barked orders for his koopas to start sweeping over the ship for any sign of you. It didn’t take him too long to find you, the door thrown open so fast it hit the wall behind it and made an awful noise. You stilled, only throwing him a bored look over your shoulder.

“You’re making a racket,” you commented, pretending to be casual as you returned your attention to your own portrait. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He demanded to know, stomping over and grabbing your wrist to spin you around. It was hard to hide the hint of a smirk your lips attempted to curl up into, but you managed, fixing him in your most unamused stare. “You’re trying to fuckin’ run away, aren’t you?” 

You didn’t know whether to deny it or offer the admission that you at least changed your mind.

The feral scowl etched into all his rough features was pretty hot.

“I’m admiring your art,” you murmured softly, wondering how difficult it would be to make him melt for you. 

“Liar,” he accused, thick brows pinched together tightly. “You left me.” 

“How could I leave you if I’m right here?” You pointed out, tilting your head to the side. 

For all his fire, he faltered when you offered him a small smile, his own mouth curving down to form a disgruntled frown. 

“Stop playing dumb,” he hissed, barring his teeth as if it would work on you now. 

“Are you calling me dumb?” You asked, arching a brow up as if you believed he was. 

His free fingers curled into fists he immediately shook out, jaw clenching as his red eyes seared straight through you. 

“I am not-” He stopped himself, maybe realizing he was falling into your trap before angrily shaking his head. “You little-” 

“Little what?” You dared him to actually finish his curse, but he had clamped his lips shut. Pulling you closer to him before unceremoniously scooping you up bridal style, muttering to himself as he stormed back in the direction of your now shared bedroom. 

“Thought that fucking idiot came and stole you,” said the man who stole you first. You had to hold in your snort, keeping your head down as you tried to not let him see you roll your eyes. 

But his intense stare was fixed on you, his nose scrunching up, lips parting in an annoyed scoff. 

“You think this is funny,” he grunted. 

“Is it not?” You asked, tempted to test just how crazy you could drive him. 

“You are-” Sukuna grimaced, biting down on the inside of his own cheek so hard you knew he probably drew blood.

“You’re really having trouble finishing your sentences tonight,” you commented, pushing your luck further. The vein bulging across his forehead ready to burst at your trivial giggle was a cute perk to pissing him off. “Tell me, my king, what exactly were you going to do if I had run away?” 

“Get you back,” he grumbled, as if you somehow could miss the glint in his eyes when you called him your king. 

You wondered how long it would take for him to ask you to say that in bed. 

And got your answer a lot sooner than anticipated. 

The moment you had crossed the threshold, he was ripping the barely-there clothes off of you and pinning you to the bed. 

Bites buried into your skin as he travelled from your stomach up to your breasts, teeth skimming against every available inch of skin until he was sinking the deepest ones into your throat, a low growl rumbling from his chest as you squirmed underneath his heavy weight. 

His tongue dragged over your neck, leaving a lewd line over the sensitive spots he’d just been sucking on until his mouth was positioned right by your ear. 

“Say it again,” he commanded, all husky and hot as your stomach found a way to tie itself in an even tighter knot. 

“Say what?” you played just as dumb as he accused you of, the tension just building on top of itself as his warm breath fanned over your skin, claws sinking into your hips just careful enough to not hurt, but to make you feel the pressure. 

“You know what,” he hissed, too prideful to admit what it was he really wanted.

“You want me to call you my king?” You hummed, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, softening your voice. 

Sukuna might not say it. But his heavy cock pressed up and throbbing against your thigh surely told you the truth. 

“I want you to mean it,” he murmured, his defined jaw catching the candlelight while you watched the lump in his throat bob. 

You hesitated. 

Considered giving up this charade the two of you had been embroiled in. 

Him dutifully playing your captor while you pretended to be a damsel in distress as if you hadn’t been having sex like partners instead of just lovers.  

He might not know the difference. 

But you did. 

Because even after he came, he didn’t just roll over and conk out. And when you woke up together, he didn’t just abandon you to handle his own affairs. 

He took care of you, fed you only the best foods and offered the best baths, pampered you in luxuries and made sure you wouldn’t want for anything when you were with him. 

What else could a girl ask for? 

So what if he was a little…sharp around the edges? 

You could love him and all his spikes. 

It wasn’t like you were ignoring him, but you’d been so swept up in your own thoughts you were caught off-guard when he abruptly buried his face between your thighs. 

Mercilessly shoving his tongue inside you, diving in without a sliver of reluctance, with a single obvious goal in mind. 

Making you moan what he wished to hear if you wouldn’t just outright say it. 

Swirling his tongue around with the precision of someone who was determined to drag you to an orgasm. The thick muscle working you open ruthlessly, his fingers pressing down and pulling you into his mouth. 

Groaning into your cunt to make your body unhelpfully spasm, giving into those maddening patterns he was painting inside you as those reverberations traveled up through you. 

Resisting felt pointless. 

Holding back was so much harder when the pleasure he was providing was overwriting all your common sense. 

You were tugging hard at his roots, hips arching off the soft surface of the bed to drive him in even deeper. But it simply wasn’t enough. 

He made you just as greedy as him. 

“M-more,” you moaned, swallowing hard as the heat started to get to your bed, the warmth he was radiating making beads of sweat roll down your forehead. 

He pulled out, laughing crudely as he looked up at you with wild eyes. 

“More?” 

Ah. 

Maybe that was a mistake. 

But you couldn’t find an ounce of regret when Sukuna was roughly flipping you over onto your stomach and nudging your thighs further apart with his knee next. Making sure you were properly spread as he climbed back on top of you, trailing the sharp edge of his claw up your spine before grabbing the nape of your neck. 

You couldn’t look back. 

Could barely breathe. 

Stuck there with your face pressed against the smooth blankets as you waited for him to make his move. 

“You want more?” He echoed his previous sentiment, disbelief still ringing in his tone. 

“Do I have to ask again?” You teased, even if your question came out half an octave too high. 

You would. 

But only if he made you. 

“Say it then,” he growled. 

“My king is mean,” you wryly mocked, knowing that he would fuck you harder for it. 

“I’ll show you mean,” he muttered, the swollen tip of his cock pressing right up against your slick entrance as you tensed up. 

You used to think you were smart. 

But considering how soaked you were waiting to have sex with him, you supposed you weren’t half as intelligent as you’d been before. 

And the moment he was sliding in, you were losing even more IQ points you didn’t know if you had to spare. 

Thoughts getting all fuzzy as they faded away to be replaced with mantras of his name, desperation bleeding into each one as you ached to be full. 

He was still gracious enough to ease you into the first thrust, slowly splitting you open on his length before pulling out and doing it again. 

Walls clamping down and straining to get accustomed to all his ridges, to his sheer size. 

But he was bottoming out before you could get your sanity back in check, all your rationality dissolving in a puddle of raw need as he hit a spot that made you jolt. 

“Not running from me now,” Sukuna snarled, pulling your hips back down as he plunged his cock even deeper, grinding it up, up, up for you to practically feel him in your lungs. 

Air squeezing out with each one of his rough thrusts no matter how desperately you tried to quickly suck more back in. 

A snarky piece of you wanted to argue that you hadn’t technically run away at all, but you didn’t think he had any reason left in him either. 

This was just about you and him and fucking until he felt better. 

Until you were both so enmeshed you would never want to leave him again. 

The connection between his cock and your cunt driving you nuts as he drove it in again and again. 

“Being real quiet now,” he taunted, and you just scoffed back at him, unable to form any coherent words to bicker back. 

But before you could try to find him, he was pulling back out right as you were getting edged closer. 

He flipped you over in a second, impatient fingers digging meanly into your thighs as he folded them against your chest. 

Sukuna didn’t have to verbalize it. Mutter a word for you to understand the why. 

He wanted to see your face when he made you cum. 

Cock sheathing itself back inside you as if it was the most natural fit in the world. 

His other hand reached for your throat, big fingers wrapping around it like your own personal necklace as he squeezed just enough to steal some of your air. “You just like punishing me,” you breathlessly moaned, gripping onto his muscled biceps as his thick cock stretched you to the limit, rubbing just right on all those sensitive spots. Contrary to the filthy words he was spewing, he was still fucking you precisely how he knew you liked. 

“You liked being punished,” he retorted, thumb rubbing over your tendon, feeling the faint indents of his teeth he’d left behind. 

Was that what you liked? 

Or was it simply him? 

“What would your plumber do if he saw you like this?” He grunted, gritting his teeth as he fucked you harder, hips smacking into your skin in harsh thwaps. “Panting and begging me for more.” 

“Probably ask to join?” 

Sukuna froze, brows furrowing as he opened his mouth to snarl something nasty before he changed his mind and decided to just fuck that thought out of you instead. 

Letting go of your throat to move his big hand south, his thumb finding your clit to toy with that too. Drawing more practiced circles over the sensitive bud, keeping a steady rhythm of pounding into you as he dragged you towards a cliff. 

You wanted him to throw you off. 

To jump off with you and fill you up. 

The pressure mounting higher, your thighs tensing and toes curling in anticipation as your limbs began trembling. 

You weren’t sure what the last straw was. Whether it was his warmth or his touch or the way his mouth crashed into yours for a messy kiss right as he pressed just right on your clit, but you crumbled. 

Cumming with his name on your tongue, shuddering as the pleasure wracked through you – just for him to pull out midway through, cum leaking out all across your skin. Steady drips falling on top of you as he stroked his shaft, your vision hazy in the corners before you shut your eyes and let go of the tension still lingering in your bones.

“Fuck, you’re so-” He started to groan, his head tilting back to expose the seductive line of his collarbone, the tattoos standing out across his chiseled chest. Your husband-to-be. 

“Perfect?” 

ཐི♡ཋྀ

What good was a wedding without a bride? 

Sukuna touched your hair, unable to wipe the scowl still lingering on his face while he huffed and puffed over your disappearing act a full hour after you fell asleep post-sex. 

He didn’t believe you. 

Even if he wanted to.

You were as clever as you were cute. Crafty. 

There was a chance for you to go. To get as far from him as you could. 

But he found you standing there in your own shrine. 

Unbothered by the commotion and the chaos, just staring at yourself before throwing him that annoyingly attractive glance. 

Were you trying to piss him off? 

Had you simply come to your senses and realized fleeting would be futile? 

He didn’t know. 

And you wouldn’t tell him. 

You were still wearing your ring though. 

It looked rather good – especially when you weren’t wearing anything else. 

Sukuna sighed, chewing his already bitten raw bottom lip as he tasted the iron in his mouth. 

Fingers flexing as he possessively held you tight, unable to loosen his grip in fear you’d just slip away again. 

You had made him a fool. 

And he didn’t think there was any way for him to undo it. 

He didn’t think he made a noise, but you began to stir, sleepily blinking up at him and yawning as you started to pull away, wait no, snuggle closer? 

Nuzzling your nose against his chest as you draped a lazy arm around his side, your scent invading his system and frying all his synapses. 

“Just go to sleep,” you murmured, delicate fingers decisively patting him. “M’not going anywhere.” 

Yeah, not under his watch. 

Where the hell were they going?

Flashes of that stupid gala, getting his ass kicked by that masked man before fuck. Satoru had done something to your mind in that bathroom, messed you until you were blinking up at him all pretty and pliant again. The rest was harder to pick apart, a blur of trying to break through to you and seeing him in that strange suit before it all went black in the alley.

"I swore I'd never tell-"

"Sh," Satoru's smooth voice purred, anger stirring in his stomach at hearing that asshole shush you. Unable to call him out for it when he wasn't currently capable of gritting his teeth. "It's going to be okay, sweetheart."

"It's not," you insisted, but instead of that stubborn scoff Suguru was used to, there was a hint of a whine to your voice. Genuine worry you'd never wore around him before. "He trusted me to keep his secret and I-"

"Baby, I already knew it," Satoru interrupted you again.

Was he actually going to tell you?

Explain what a delusional dickhead he'd been in college and how his dreams of manipulating DNA at his whims had lead to the dissolution of their friendship?

"What are you talking about?" You half-whispered.

Whatever denial you'd been drowning yourself in fracturing with just a few words from him.

Suguru wanted to tell you himself. Tell you exactly what happened between them. Make you see what a goddamn sociopath he was.

He had no remorse. No regard for the consequences of his own actions.

All Satoru did was take, take, take.

He would do anything to get ahead. To prove he was better than everyone else.

And he'd never forgive Suguru for stopping him from playing god.

He attempted to open his mouth, to make a noise and let you know that he was still here, tell you not to listen to him, but nothing happened.

With growing horror, it started to dawn on him that it wasn’t just his limbs being too tired to twitch, but the grim fact they flat out couldn’t. Muscles paralyzed while his brain was fully aware of what was happening around him, even when he wasn’t able to blink or crack his eyes open to see it for himself.

"We used to be friends," Satoru said, pitching his voice down with feigned sadness. "Back in college."

"I don't," you started, stopping yourself as Suguru felt something in his hair. Was it your fingers slipping through the strands for comfort? Or were you so focused on your fiancé that you didn't realize you were doing it? "He never said anything. You never said anything."

"It was a long time ago," Satoru excused, already trying to reshape your perception around whatever he wanted you to believe. "It ended pretty badly, so, I mean, I try not to think about it."

He was painting himself out to be the victim. Deliberately posing as pathetic to earn your sympathy rather than just tell you the true story.

Of how Satoru blackballed him from most graduate programs out of pure spite. How hard it was to even get hired when it seemed like every position he applied to he was immediately rejected from.

"Satoru," you muttered, your voice harder than it had been a few seconds ago. "It seems like there's a lot you haven't told me."

"Sweetheart," he tried to coo, to coax you back into something more docile for him to manipulate.

"Don't just sweetheart me," you hissed back at him, and Suguru wanted to imagine you were scowling at him. That you'd found the strength to stand up for yourself even if you were scared.

"Is this about Suguru? Or Naoya?" He asked, almost coming across as childish as he let out an impatient huff. "Because that asshole deserved it for what he would have done to you if he-"

"I didn't say he didn't deserve it," you cut him off, your words cracking towards the end. Torn between believing what you were saying and what you knew was right. Suguru felt a surge of pride in his chest, itching to regain his mobility, his motor functions to be on your side. "It's just, you didn't tell me about any of it. I feel like I don't even really know you anymore and-"

"Am I not supposed to protect you?" Satoru argued, his familiar dismissive attitude activating some primal part of his brain, annoyance burning under his skin.

"Protect me?" You repeated, clearly offended too.

"You want safety. I'm giving that to you," Satoru bluntly said, a sharp edge to his voice that shut you up.

No.

Fight. Please fight.

Suguru wanted to shout that you didn't need him to give you security. That you were capable. Clever. The kind of girl that had always been able to take care of yourself.

"I didn't know you'd be hurt if I didn't tell you about Suguru. I mean, you were keeping your history with him a secret," he continued, a degree of cockiness cutting through, like he knew exactly what to say to make your resolve start to crumble.

"I-"

"He used to be my best friend. Before I caught him saving someone at a party once," Satoru said, apparently just offering the condensed cliff notes version with the tone of someone talking about a painful memory. "He confessed about his powers aftewards."

Was it exhausting to so carefully choose his words?

Deliberate and decide on which would be the most effective to warp the way you received them?

"We decided to research them together. Pick apart his genome to figure out what kind of mutation triggered it," he continued, sighing with the smallest hint of sentiment. "I figured it out."

"You did?" You sounded unsure. Overwhelmed.

"We could've done so much with it. Revolutionized science. Modern medicine. Rewritten nature," Satoru scoffed, a bitter laugh slipping out as his real feelings broke through the facade for a second.

"What happened?" You asked when he paused, and Suguru wanted to see you so badly, begging his body to do anything before Satoru turned you completely against him.

"He stole my research. Tried to take all my samples too. Wrecked the lab just so no one else could be like him," he revealed, definitely still disgruntled over it all these years later.

Suguru was stuck on the way he said tried though. As if he hadn't suceeded.

Which meant-

Oh fuck.

"I had brought some samples to my dad's lab before he broke in, so I didn't lose everything," Satoru lowered his voice as he spoke, like he was letting you in on a grand secret. "Saved just enough to be able to test it on myself."

"You-" You didn't finish asking your question, maybe figuring out the answer for yourself.

"It didn't give me the same abilities as Suguru," he hummed, tone shifting once again to not sound quite so sinister. "But I think mine are much better."

Suguru knew it should be obvious.

Brain racing to make the connections, to sort out what kind of powers he'd unlocked, but all his synapses were painfully slow, dulled by whatever drug was currently racing through his system.

What the hell had Satoru done to him?

And what had he done to himself?

You sniffled again, and Suguru couldn't stand it. Loathing bubbling and burning a hole through his chest as he commanded it to move, to get up, to help you out of this mess.

"I just want the truth," you whispered, breath hitching.

You were pleading.

You, the girl he thought couldn't be tamed, couldn't be bartered with, was begging.

Maybe it was a good thing he wasn't in control right now. Because he'd probably be throwing himself at Satoru and attempting to strangle him for the crime of breaking the spirit he'd spent so long admiring.

"Have you been using your, um, abilities on me?" You reluctantly asked, as if you didn't already know the answer.

"Yeah," he freely admitted. "You caught me."

The silence was worse than anything.

Not being able to see you. Unable to touch you. Paralyzed and blind as the rest of his senses struggled to cope with what was happening around him.

"Don't look at me like that," Satoru complained, probably pouting as he heard the rustle of clothes. The sound of movement creating the picture before him.

Was he cupping your face? Caressing your cheek? Wiping away a stray tear?

He hadn't even bothered to explain his abilities to you.

Almost like he didn't want you to know what he could actually do.

"I trusted you," you whispered, betrayal baked into every strained word.

"You can still trust me," Satoru tried to convince you. His voice returning to that soft, sweet tone Suguru prayed didn't disarm you. "Come on, sweetheart, have I ever actually broken any promise I've made you?"

You were quiet.

Were you refusing to answer? Or were you genuinely considering what he was saying?

God, Suguru prayed it wasn't the latter.

"I only did it for us," he didn't stop talking, even when the car hit a bump in the rode, and Suguru felt his weight shift, nearly falling off the seat.

Would his friend even have attempted to catch him?

Or just let him hit the floor?

“What am I supposed to think about all of this?” You muttered, and he could practically hear your mouth quivering.

You had never been vulnerable with him. Guarded your heart from Suguru, treating him like he was the thief in your relationship. Refused to talk about anything remotely personal - to play the aloof lover.

And now here you were, holding your heart out in your hands for someone who would never deserve it.

“You’re supposed to believe me,” Satoru murmured, as if he was entitled to your affection, to your acceptance. “Can’t you be a little more patient for me?”

“Patient for what?”

Fear had crept into your question.

Anxiety that you had both found yourself too far into a game you couldn't understand, no save points you could reload and no option to quit. You had to see it through to the ending and hold out hope that your decisions hadn't doomed all of you to the worst one.

"I've been trying so hard to build the perfect future for us," Satoru swore, and Suguru couldn't imagine that he had any part in it. Satoru's perfect future probably included him thrown in a jail cell or condemned to a shitty life of suffering at his hands. "We're so close. You'll see soon what I've been working on."

Yeah, this was fucked.

Suguru was fucked.

How the hell was he supposed to stop Satoru when he still didn't know what his goal was? When he'd done everything he could to make sure that you would be caught in the crossfire?

"Your dad is going to be freed this week. Naobito will be the one in a jail cell," Satoru said when you stayed silent. There it was again. Another hint at a past you'd never let him be privy to. "I'll take care of Suguru."

Take care of him.

Great.

Did that mean he'd get the Naoya treatment?

Beaten within an inch of his life? Left unable to speak about who'd done it or what happened to him?

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Satoru asked, and your response was so quiet, he almost didn't hear it.

"Yes," you murmured.

Suguru waited for the but.

For you to put up more of a protest.

"Then just let me handle everything," Satoru firmly spoke, finishing the conversation without your input.

Suguru wanted to scream. To get sick. A thousand pathetic pleas of his own on his tongue that he was unable to speak when his body was barely cooperating enough to breathe.

The rest of the car ride could have only been a minute, maybe two, but it was impossible to tell when he had hardly any sensory input to work with, the seconds dragging out as his mind punished him with images of what Satoru could be doing with you.

It wasn't even a relief when it stopped, not when he still had no clue when he'd be able to move again.

"I'll carry him up," Satoru muttered, but you didn't reply.

He had never hated him more than when he was sliding his arms under his heavy frame and picking him up with ease. Getting him out of the car, his footsteps heavy on pavement as he heard the creak of a door opening.

Just for that asshole to let it deliberately start to close and hit him in the fucking head.

"Oops," he muttered under his breath, like he was trying to avoid you noticing and rub it in Suguru's face at the same time.

He stopped walking a few seconds later - and it was only once they started moving up that Suguru realized they were on an elevator.

Of course.

Satoru was taking him back to his place, probably some overpriced penthouse that overlooked the city so he could feel like he was above them all.

A king's throne.

Everyone else had always been peasants in Satoru's story.

He couldn't point that out to you though, couldn't do a damn thing as he was brought inside, carried across a place that at least also had your scent on everything, eventually being deposited on a soft blanket.

A bed far more comfortable than his own.

"The effects are only supposed to last a few hours," Satoru said, and he wasn't sure if he was trying to speak to him, or if he was alleviating your anxiety. "Maybe sooner depending on how his body reacts to it."

"Okay," you quietly said, still clearly upset over how the night had unravelled.

Everything you thought you knew unwrapped and ripped apart right when it was about to be in your hands.

Satoru's phone started ringing, an annoying ring tone interrupting right as something jumped on him.

He felt a surge of panic, but it dissipated once he recognized the feeling of four paws, heard the soft purr that had to belong to a cat.

"I'll be right back, baby, gotta take this," Satoru scoffed, irritation returning despite the distinct sound of him planting a kiss somewhere on you.

You were giving him the silent treatment.

Or maybe too stunned to verbalize the thoughts that had to be twisting and tangling on top of each other.

You had to know he was full of shit.

That this wouldn't be the fairytale he was promising you.

Satoru's steps drifted back out of the room, down the hall until they abruptly ended, going somewhere even his super hearing couldn't access.

"I'm sorry," you whispered under your breath to Suguru.

Words that were just meant for him.

Even though he wasn't sure if you thought he could actually hear you. Or if you were just taking the opportunity to get the words off your chest.

"I'm so sorry," you repeated, starting to hyperventilate, barely able to calm yourself enough to continue. "I didn't know what to do. I didn't want anything to happen to you."

Suguru knew.

That was why it hurt so goddamn much.

Why it killed him to see you give yourself to someone else to pay for his safety.

Clueless that all you'd really done was sell your soul to a devil in disguise. One who only wanted to see him burn.

Your soft fingers grazed over his face, across the healing scratches, brushing over his eyebrows as he heard you suck in a ragged inhale.

"I promise, okay, I'll protect you."

You couldn't even protect yourself.

Couldn't even see how badly you needed to pack a fucking bag and run as far away from here as possible.

What deal did you make with him? What did he have over you to keep you on his leash?

Had he been the one to blackmail you into marrying him? Was it your family? The father he'd never heard anything about? Was it him?

Jesus fucking Christ.

Could it all be some revenge scheme Satoru had conjured to get back at him? Stealing you since he'd stolen his research?

He'd tell you his theory if he could.

And once he had control of himself again, he'd be throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to the closest airport to fly you before either of you had to find out what the fuck Satoru was planning.

The cat on his chest climbed up higher, fur tickling his neck through his torn suit as it curled up on his collarbone. Your fingers trailed down to his lips at the same time, maybe reminiscing on what it had been like to kiss him.

"I love, um, I did love you," you corrected yourself with that trembling voice, like it didn't already feel like you had dug a dagger into his chest. "I wish things were different."

There were a million things he'd wish for.

And the first one would always be you.

But those heavy footsteps had started coming back, and Suguru knew that you weren't choosing him.

No, that wasn't quite right, was it? That was what you were trying to tell him.

You chose Suguru.

But that meant marrying Satoru.

"Hey, sweetheart, think you could help wash the blood off of me?"

Could you trust Satoru?

No.

Did you have any other option?

No.

All you'd done was trade one man with a secret life in for another.

Satoru lied to you. Hid important things from you. Played with your memories maybe more times than you'd ever know.

Could you even trust the thoughts floating around your brain now?

What if he decided that you weren't handling this well enough and decided to erase the past night from your head altogether? Scrub Suguru from every nook and crevice while he was at it?

And yet, when his hands traveled over your body, lathering it up with his fancy body wash, his mouth pressing soft kisses just above your collarbone as pink suds disappeared down the drain, you were leaning back against him anyway. Pretending not to be scared by any of it when you were sure you were going to start falling apart at the seams.

He once said he could learn to love you.

Couldn't you do the same for him?

Or well, re-learn it?

A few hours ago, you had believed that everything would truly be fine. That your fantasies were all going to come true thanks to him.

Now everything was shattered.

It felt like you were on your knees on broken glass, doing your best to glue the pieces back together despite how deeply the shards were slicing through your skin.

"Is Suguru really going to be fine?" You asked, his firm body tensing up behind you, the possessive fingers on your hip tightening as his warm breath fanned over your neck.

"Yes," he replied, but his voice was clipped, wound almost as tight as you were.

Like you were teetering on territory he was waiting for you to cross.

But he wasn't happy with your silence either.

Clicking his tongue with as he pulled your body further back against his.

"I hate when you talk about him," he confessed. Satoru had tried to sound neutral about Suguru before, but even he couldn't hide the disgust bristling under the surface now.

"What?"

"I told you before," he reminded you, teeth skimming over the sensitive skin of your throat. "Once you said yes, you're mine."

"I am yours," you replied, reassurance that did waver once it was in the air.

That no longer felt quite so certain.

Because truthfully, if you weren't obligated to, if you hadn't already laid out all your cards, would Satoru be the one you chose?

It was too late, of course. You were in too deep to ever consider it.

You had thrown away the key to your own cage.

Surrendered to the iron bars that swung shut in your face with a smile.

All the red flags you'd seen and spent so long recoloring waving right in front of your face now.

And what could you do about it?

Just put on a new pair of rose-tinted glasses and convince yourself that you could still find a way to be happy with it.

"I'll make you happy," he promised, and even after the past few hours, there was still a part of you that was desperate to believe him. Tied so intricately to him that you didn't know if you would survive the connection being severed.

He twisted you around, pressing your chest against his as he rested his chin on the top of your head for a few moments. Pulling you in a possessive hug, squeezing all the air from your lungs like he wanted you to just breathe him in instead.

"Were you going to tell me about any of it?" You managed to ask, wheezing a little just for him to let you go. Intense blue eyes squinting down at you as he sharply nodded.

"I wanted to wait until we were married," he spoke slowly, as if it was some embarrassing admission. "I was worried you'd react like this."

So what, it was your fault he hadn't been up front?

Or were you just as guilty for not confessing your own share of secrets sooner?

Could you even be mad at him for not telling you about knowing Suguru when you hadn't told him about the extent of your relationship either?

"I didn't want you to not trust me," he said, his expression twisting into that practiced puppy dog pout. "Or think that I would ever use my powers against you."

"But you-"

"I'm sorry, I just got jealous, I shouldn't have used it on you in the bathroom," he apologized, and even when you knew you should know better, the downturn of his lips, the remorse glinting in his stare pulled on your heartstrings.

"You promise not to use your, um, ability on me again?" You hesitantly asked, faintly aware that the only thing left for you to do was make sure you didn't give him a reason to.

Manacled to a man who might or might not be able to manipulate your memory at a moment's notice.

"I swear," he earnestly spoke, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You let him kiss you, let his soft lips sink into yours and wash away the sorrow that had left a sour taste on your tongue. Warm water washing over you as the last of the blood ran down his toned body.

It was still you that broke it for air, his nose nudging against yours as he rested his forehead on yours. Those pretty blue eyes you'd lost yourself in threatening to swallow you again now.

"So if you can heal yourself and stuff, how'd you get this scar?" You murmured, softly stroking your thumb over the faint blemish on his cheek you noticed before.

That was one of his powers, wasn't it?

You hadn't been losing it when you saw that cut on his palm heal in his office?

"I was trying to test the limits of my regeneration," he shrugged, his own fingers reaching up to feel the marked skin.

Your stomach twisted at the thought of him cutting himself that deep, burying something sharp in his face just for a simple experiment.

"You're kind of fucking crazy," you half-whispered, biting down and drawing blood from the inside of mouth just for him to chuckle, one corner of his mouth curling up in a crooked smile.

"It's all for a good cause," he casually shrugged, as if you were paying him a compliment.

Good for who, though?

The rest of the world? The city? You?

Or him?

“So where do I fit into your plans?” You asked, no longer sure what you wanted his answer to be.

You had always known he was using you.

That was what your whole relationship had been built on - no matter how much fun he gift wrapped your time together in.

How deep did his deception run? If he had some grudge against Suguru, who was to say that he hadn't picked you to marry out of spite? Or that he wouldn't just do something awful to him behind your back?

“As my wife,” Satoru purred, bridging the distance to kiss you again.

This one was longer, his tongue invading your mouth like he couldn't taste the iron on your tongue, dragging over your teeth as one of his strong arms wrapped tight around you. Holding you against him as he swallowed the surprised sound that started to escape.

Satoru could say you would be his wife.

But where did Suguru fit into his plans?

You were too terrified to ask.

Yet, somehow, Satoru seemed to already know what question was on your mind when he leaned in to murmur in your ear.

"Maybe we just need to remind him who you belong to, hm?"

a/n: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3 thank you for reading !!! :3

And okay, there had been a handful of heated hookups after long nights of breastfeeding and soothing your daughter back to sleep in her crib, where you'd begrudgingly let him pry your thighs apart on the couch to bury his tongue inside of you or sleepily fuck you on the stained cushions with your face buried in the pillows. But you'd made it clear each time that you still couldn't stand him.

You were using him for sex.

The sad thing was he didn't mind.

Not when his skin was on yours, when your mouth was still saying his name instead of someone else's.

He tried to propose to you. Four times.

You called him a manchild for thinking a marriage would make the two of you magically work.

"Think she'd say yes if I asked her on a real date then?" Sukuna said, trying to piss him off today as he leaned back in his own chair and chuckled. He didn't like the way he said real. Like the two of you had been on something that could've qualified as a date before without him knowing.

God, the only reason that asshole even came was because he heard that you were dropping off her.

"Don't even think about it," Gojo groaned, tempted to reach across the table and throttle him for suggesting it.

Having a baby with someone he was hopelessly in love with was hard enough.

Did all of his friends have to fucking audition to be the stepfather?

Sukuna hadn't even known you until after he'd knocked you up.

Never met you until you begrudgingly showed up to the frat house with a pregnancy test in hand and a scowl etched across your pretty face.

"I mean, who would you rather have be the stepdaddy?" Sukuna dryly mocked, actively ragebaiting him as he snagged the muffin that had been meant for you, unwrapping it and taking a big bite before talking with a full mouth. "Me? Or Suguru?"

Gojo would actually rather die than watch either of them marry you.

What the fuck was he supposed to do to stop them from speaking to you though?

Especially when the latter had managed to end up firmly planted in your good graces with those irritatingly smooth lines of his? Cooking you meals and murmuring in your ear what a good mother you were?

All while he just fucking sat there and stumbled over his words, feeling shittier and shittier as they tried to steal you and his daughter right out from underneath his nose.

"Neither," he grimaced, turning his attention back to his baby.

She was awake, kicking her legs in her seat as he bent forward to unbuckle her, carefully picking her up before placing her in his lap.

His heart pounded in his chest, pressure pushing down and making his ribs constrict at the thought of fucking this up.

He didn't know how to be a father. Not really. He'd never even been anyone's boyfriend. Never had any pets growing up to take care of.

Becoming frat president was the first real responsibility he ever had.

And now he had an entire human that was half-him to raise.

Drunk idiots were a lot fucking different than a baby. Who needed to be fed and bathed and loved and a million other overwhelming things he was struggling to keep track of.

She blinked up at him, familiar blue eyes squinting at him before they started to well up with tears, face scrunching up like she was about to start wailing.

He tried bouncing her up and down, but it only seemed to make her more upset, panic bubbling up before Sukuna was getting up out of his seat.

"Here," he grunted, scooping her out of his arms and cradling her against his chest as if it came naturally. "I've got her."

Her tiny body relaxed, eyes softening as he murmured something under his breath - not to Gojo, but to her. Soothing her in a way that simply didn't come naturally to him.

Going from on the verge of bawling to batting her lashes in a matter of seconds.

His daughter didn't even prefer him.

And he only had himself to blame.

Maybe if he managed to make up with you sooner, actually make you his, he could actually be living with you full time. Sharing a bed, sharing breakfast, being there to handle all the dirty diaper changes and spilled milk instead of just stopping in and begging you to let him stay to do night shafts.

You didn't trust him. Thought he was just a temporary fixture. Someone who was here for now instead of forever.

Every time he got close to convincing you he was here permanently, he always screwed it up.

God, he almost missed you giving birth just because some goddamn sorority girl stole his phone at a stupid party Suguru had insisted he show up to for at least an hour. But he'd been the one to accept the first beer - and the second.

The shots were harder to excuse.

If it wasn't for you calling Suguru in between contractions, he probably wouldn't have gotten there minutes before you had to start pushing. You had glared at him, stray strands of hair sticking to your forehead as you studied the glazed over look in his eyes and scoffed that you could smell the alcohol on him.

All he'd done was stain the memory of meeting your baby for the first time.

Fucked it all up from that very first moment.

He overheard you on the phone a couple days later, muttering something about how you couldn't believe he couldn't just stay sober when he knew you were about to go into labor any day.

Gojo hadn't touched a drink since.

He still had to show up to parties sometimes, had frat duties he couldn't exactly dodge, but he didn't let it interfere with him being a dad anymore.

"You're lucky she looks like you," Sukuna muttered, reaching up to scruff up her hair.

"Yeah," he swallowed, although part of him still wished she had more of you.

"No one would believe she's actually yours if she didn't," he dryly commented, picking out the the stitches of wounds Gojo was still licking.

"Can you stop being a dick for like, a day?" Gojo grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he glanced away from his daughter out the window at the people passing by on the street.

Staring a little too long at the happy families, his mouth twitching down at the tiny kids chattering to their parents, struggling to accept the fact that one day his own would be that be that big.

"I'm just sayin'," he shrugged. "How'd you even get her to fuck you?"

Sheer luck?

Pure chance that you somehow found his stupidity cute when you weren't sober?

He had etched the night in his head, held onto the memory with the worry that it could somehow be ripped from him too.

One of the few moments he'd gotten with you that was relatively untainted by everything that happened since.

Playing it back like a movie in his head, convinced that if he closed your eyes, he could smell the perfume you wore that night, feel your skin on his again.

He'd barely been brave enough to work up the courage to come over to you, jittery as he made an awful joke about running into you here while you tilted your head to the side and replied that you were surprised he even recognized you.

It wasn't like he'd even spoken to you before.

Not technically.

He'd bumped into you once after class, too distracted on his phone to pay attention to what was actually in front of him. In his defense, you weren't looking either, leaning against the wall to rummage through your bag for something with one hand and a coffee clutched in the other one.

The collision spilled your drink, mostly onto the floor as he immediately stopped and gawked at what just happened while you huffed an insult under your breath.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but you just glared up at him like he was worse than gum getting stuck on the soles of your shoes, nose scrunching up as you rolled your eyes and sarcastically thanked him for wasting the one treat you'd gotten yourself this week.

Gojo was pretty sure he fell in love with you from the first scowl.

Clumsily shoving his hands in his pockets and fumbling for a fifty from his wallet, holding it out as he tried to convince his tongue to move and tell you to take it. But you just shook your head and mumbled that you were going to find a janitor to mop up the mess.

His crush hadn't ended there.

Not when he couldn't stop himself from picking you out every time you passed by him on campus, feeling like a creep when he tried to come up with some way to casually run into you again.

So, yeah, when you showed up to his frat house, wearing a pretty little dress and sipping shitty beer out of a solo cup, he was rushing over before any of his brothers could notice how cute you looked when you frowned.

"Come to spill my drink?" You sarcastically asked, arching up an eyebrow when he inserted himself in the space next to you.

"That was an accident," he pouted, pushing out his bottom lip and hoping you didn't find it completely cringy. "Can't I make it up to you?"

He couldn't fucking believe it when your mouth curled up in a soft smile instead of an automatic scoff, his heart slamming so hard against his ribs he was sure it was going to burst before he even got your number.

"What do you have in mind?" You asked.

He was ready to get on his knees then.

More with every second you spent by his side, giggling at his awful attempts of flirting as you kept him at arm's length, forcing him to try harder than he had with any other girl before just to take a single body shot off of you.

His cock throbbing and aching in his jeans when your lips softly pressed against his collarbone, drifting up to drink the vodka you poured in the divot above it. His hands had been on your waist, fingers sinking in like he couldn't quite tell if you were real or just some dizzyingly beautiful hallucination his drunk brain had conjured up.

It wasn't until he managed to pull you back into his room, bending you over the bed and shimmying your dress down that he let himself believe this was actually happening.

"So you fuck every girl you take body shots with?" You teased, out of breath while he felt his own get caught in his throat at all your exposed skin.

"Just you," he lied.

Although, now that he was with you, he couldn't remember a single one that had come before.

"Uh-huh," you muttered, not believing it for a second.

He wished you had.

"You're the prettiest girl at this party," he purred, although he was already thinking that maybe he should've said planet as he dragged his tongue over the inside of your thigh, up to where your lace panties were still bunched between your legs. Leaving a damp patch as he greedily tried to eat you out through the thin fabric, acting like a desperate loser in love with someone leagues above him.

Gojo always thought he was a catch.

Cocky enough to find confidence in his position as class president, in his body and his brains, in his financial and social status.

But he couldn't shake the fucking feeling you thought he was beneath you.

It only made him crave you more.

It wasn't good enough to have you writhing underneath him, chest heaving when he finally buried his cock inside of you, hastily just grabbing a random condom from the closest drawer and carelessly sheathing himself in it. It wasn't enough to make you moan his name as he bottomed out again and again, focused more on your pleasure than how tight the condom was as his fingers sloppily played with your clit.

Gracelessly grinding as deep as he could inside you, gritting his teeth as he watched every tiny flicker of your face, searching it for a tiny inkling of passion, of hunger that wasn't just primal.

Gojo wanted you to want him for him.

Not just a quick fuck that you'd forget about sooner rather than later.

Still, he never meant for the condom to break.

He'd known from the second he saw it register on your face that you weren't going to give him a second chance. That he'd totally fucking blown it as he stammered out apologies and spread your thighs further apart to fish out the broken bits of condom from inside you, cum leaking down your thighs as you bit your lip and stared at the ceiling.

"Are you on birth control?" He asked, his voice thin and strained as he pulled out the last piece, a funny feeling settling in the pit of his stomach at the sight of his own cum dripping out of you, the way the panties he'd forgotten to fully take off of you had gotten soaked as you stared at him with unfettered irritation.

"No," you spoke quietly, a hint of embarrassment shining in your eyes as you looked away from him to the state of his messy room. "I don't really do...this."

"Oh," he swallowed.

He didn't know what to say.

What to do. How to fix something he'd never had before.

So he just awkwardly threw away the condom, chewing the inside of his cheek as he tried to put on a casual grin. "Do you, uh, wanna shower or something? Stay the night?"

"Fine," you muttered, the mood still ruined no matter what he did to lift it again. Anxiety creeping in and making his usual aftercare routine awkward and tense until you were both laying on different sides of the bed, him staring at your back while you faced away from him.

He hoped that you would be there the next morning.

That the next day would be the start of a different story. He'd take you out for breakfast and reassure you that you probably wouldn't get pregnant anyway.

Really, what were the chances of it even happening?

He fell asleep fantasizing about ways to make you fall for him too.

But you were gone when he got up, rolling over to find a cold place where your body should be.

The bed was empty, your clothes missing from the floor and no note left behind.

No phone number for him to call or text to beg for a date. He stopped seeing you around campus too.

In some sick way, he felt a fucked-up sense of satisfaction when you showed back up to tell him you were pregnant.

He thought that it'd mean you were stuck with him.

Not that he'd be spending the next year scrambling to keep your attention to himself.

And away from them.

Sukuna reclined back more in his chair, his hard features softening as he dragged his thumb to wipe away the drool from his daughter's mouth.

"You're kind of a shitty dad, dude," Sukuna grunted, not even glancing up at him.

Was he?

He didn't know what a good one looked like.

His dad had barely been there for him growing up. Too busy to be at the dinner table or attend his soccer games.

"Can you stop talking like you're her stepdad?" Gojo grumbled, exhaling as he held out his arms, ready to take her back just for his baby to betray him again, clinging onto Sukuna's shirt with her tiny fists.

"I'm not the one you should be pissy with," Sukuna shrugged, a little glint in his eyes that made his stomach churn. Already aware that something he wouldn't want to hear was about to leave his friend's mouth. "Suguru's the one taking her out to dinner tonight."

Since when?

His jaw locked, fist clenching under the table at the thought of you and Suguru sitting at a table together at some fancy place, his hand sneaking out to brush over yours as he ordered you wine and wooed you.

How the hell was he supposed to let his best friend fuck his baby momma?

"Do you know where?"

a/n: i'll let you guys name their baby, drop suggestions in the comments!!

"What's happening?" You huffed at him, attempting to reclaim a fraction of your dignity despite him seeing you in far worse states than this before. He'd held you when you were disheveled, thighs pinned to your chest as he prepared you for things you were supposed to do with your future husband one day. With sweat sticking to your forehead and your body shaking, face scrunched up with pure pleasure from his nimble fingers and tongues. He didn't even react at your obvious worry, watching you swallow hard as the panic still freely pounded in your chest, holding onto his strong forearm to steady yourself. "Where are we?"

He smiled at you, letting go of your side to caress your cheek, your heart stupidly fluttering at the gesture you both knew he shouldn't be doing. Not when he was meant to stand guard for you.

You were his duty. His life.

He was only ever supposed to be a supporting role in yours.

"Somewhere safe."

“Safe?” You echoed, blinking up at him without understanding.

“I brought your favorite books,” he murmured, softly stroking your hair as he looked down at you. “And more of those paints I got you last year for your birthday.”

“But why are we-”

“Your parents were about to sell you off to a brute,” he grimaced, even when he was speaking to you so tenderly. Dark eyes hardening as they narrowed just enough to let you know he was serious.

"He wasn't-" You started to protest, thinking back to the single time you'd actually seen him at a banquet a handful of months ago. Sure, you hadn't spoken directly to you, not when you were so closely supervised, but you watched him from across the room.

There were men far worse than that.

“He would have just used you for heirs while he slept with half his court,” he dismissively scoffed.

But, wasn’t that you were meant for?

A pretty tool to be purchased as a means for peace between kingdoms?

You always knew it would happen to you. The arranged marriage, having heirs, living in a foreign place with no friends.

All your manners classes, the rigid rules you'd spent your life learning, they were all leading up to this.

You were born to be a queen.

"I can't just run from my duty," you murmured, reaching back up to drag your thumb over his defined jaw, attempting to soften the blow of disappointment. He must've spent a long time preparing this place for you, ready to commit treason just to do what he thought was best.

Forever your knight, always thinking of you when you both knew that the feelings you harbored for each other would never amount to more than the handful of nights you'd stolen together.

"And you can't expect me not to do mine."

Your mouth hung open, not sure what to do with his defiance. Just staring at his unchanging expression, resolve etched into every strong line of his face while your hand fell from it.

“This is for your own good,” he promised, leaning close enough to press a chaste kiss to the top of your forehead. “You’ll see.”

You hadn't seen three months in.

He wouldn't let you leave.

Refused to budge even when you begged with your best set of puppy dog eyes as you asked about how your family was doing, if you'd been declared missing, what was happening back at home.

His jaw would always clench, dark eyes swirling as he cupped your face and told you that you worried too much.

Solemnly swore your parents weren't even looking for their missing princess.

No, apparently, they'd just sent someone who looked enough like you to not arouse suspicion to the prince you were meant to marry.

Suguru dried your tears with kisses, dragging his tongue over the damp spots they left, his honeyed voice reassuring you that no one could replace you to him.

An imposter was out there in your place, pretending to be you, and you were in a tower trying to find the positive in this...monotony.

It wasn't like it was so terrible being trapped here with him.

Homemade meals. No more awful meetings or balls you were forced to attend. Nights spent in the warmth of Suguru's body with no fear of getting caught and condemned for what your heart wanted.

The days drifted by lazily. Napping in your bed. Reading the books he brought you. Painting by the small window.

Pacing your floor when the minutes started to drag, counting how many steps it took to get from one side of the room to the other. You even started to teach yourself how to sew, although you had to practically plead with Suguru to bring you the supplies for them.

The tower itself was cramped. Your room led directly out to a spiraling staircase, with uneven stone steps and a nauseating drop down the middle. The steps widened as you went down, but you'd barely been able to bring yourself to make it further than Suguru's living space below yours.

It was bigger than yours, but more...quaint, you supposed?

Rickety wooden furniture. A thin blanket over his bed. A single table with two chairs for you to eat with him.

He knew you hated heights.

So Suguru usually ended up coming to you instead.

A picnic blanket spread on your floor. Flowers freshly plucked from the forest below. A candle lit like it made this romantic.

And despite your determination to convince him that you could both still return to the palace, or even start a new life in a quiet port town somewhere, you were the one starting to crumble under his coaxing.

What was so great about your old life anyway?

No one could make you do anything up here. For the first time, your life was now yours.

It took you another year to realize your life was actually his.

Well, considering you lost track of time, you could only guess it had been a year. Watching the seasons come and go, leaves falling off the trees and snow capping the branches until the weather warmed again.

There was only so much painting to pass the time you could do before everything became boring.

Staring out the window waiting for something to happen, Suguru's hand on the small of your back while he delicately brushed your hair off your shoulder.

There weren't any scissors for you to trim it with. Not a single sharp item left anywhere within reach. He refused to entertain the idea of chopping some of it off either, insisting on taking care of it himself, toying and twirling the ridiculously long strands down as they cascaded over your worn dress.

It had always been long, but whatever was in the food he'd been feeding you had made it grow far faster here, trailing along the floor wherever you walked. He brushed it out for you, washed it and dried it while he made excuse after excuse not to cut it.

"Let down your hair, princess," Suguru called out from below, and for a brief second, you considered telling him that his joke wasn't funny - even though you suspected after another year or two, it might really be long enough to reach the ground. You stared down at him as he shielded his face from the sun, a hand on your hip as your brows scrunched together.

"Come inside," you shouted, struggling not to frown as you watched him walk out of your line of vision, a basket slung over his shoulder, probably with food from the closest town - not that he'd ever let you see it for yourself.

No, he locked your door when he left.

Kissed your forehead and promised to be back as soon as possible whenever he had errands to run.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to make it back up to your door, the keys clinking as he unlocked it from the outside, swinging it open with a loud creak as you refused to look back at him.

"How's my beautiful girl?" He murmured as he approached, lips grazing against the shell of your ear while his hands traced your frame.

"I'm getting sick of being up in here," you half-whispered as you confessed what had been plaguing you for weeks, your voice raw from how little you'd been using it lately. "Can't we go to a village? Just for a day? We could wear disguises or-"

"No," he firmly said, pressing a kiss on your collarbone as you let out an annoyed huff.

"Please, Suguru," you whined. "It's been so long-"

"I'm not taking any risks when it comes to you," he scoffed a little, as if you were asking him for something absurd.

"Didn't you say no one was even looking for me?" You tilted your head to the side, pushing out your bottom lip like it would make his impenetrable resolve finally fracture.

"Anyone who saw your hair-"

"So cut it," you stomped your foot, swallowing hard as your lashes fluttered up at him.

"No," he repeated, refusing to budge.

His fingers were already unlacing the back of your dress, making quick work of loosening it while you struggled to come up with an argument that might sway him just for him to spin you around to face him.

Could you somehow convince him to take you on just a single outing?

Was it truly too much? Were you a moron for wanting more than just this?

Your dress was falling by your feet before you could think of anything - and his mouth was on your throat to make sure you wouldn't be able to.

Kiss after kiss pressed against your skin, lips tantalizingly skimming along the tendon until his teeth were grazing over your jaw. His hands making their way over your waist, fingers digging into your sides as he suddenly hoisted you up.

Carrying you back to your bed, careful not to step on your hair as he continued to pepper you with his gentle affection.

"Did I not make it perfect for you here, princess?" He purred, tenderly placing you back down on the soft mattress, making sure to drape your hair off the side. His own was falling in his face as his mouth slowly traveled down the valley of your breasts, across your belly button and pausing just below it to peek up at you. "I try so hard."

He did, didn't he?

Suguru had risked his head just by bringing you here. Did his best to make sure you weren't wanting for anything - that you wouldn't go without the luxuries you'd be lavished in your entire life.

Couldn't you just be happy for him when he was working so hard for you?

"I know," you muttered softly, guilt creeping in while his soft purple eyes bore into you. "I just-"

"Want to throw away everything I've given you for what? You'd rather hang around some peasants than me?" He grumbled, stare narrowing as he pushed your thighs up against your chest, like he had some point to prove.

"No, that's not-" You started again, but then his fingers slipped inside you, two thick digits digging deeper to stretch you out - and shut you up.

"Not what?" He dryly mocked, cocking his head to the side, well aware you would't be able to answer as he shoved his fingers deeper, dragging them against your walls.

"Don't be mean," you hissed at him, chest constricting as your lungs squeezed in time with your cunt. Unable to breathe when his digits felt like they were forcing all the air out with each consecutive thrust.

"It hurts my feelings when you want to leave me," he said, but his condescending tone didn't exactly lend any credence to what he was saying. Still, your heart stalled anyway, mind instinctively working to win him back.

"I don't want to leave you," you argued. "Just here. For a little bit."

"For a little bit," he sarcastically echoed, an anxious pit opening in the bottom of your stomach as you shook your head.

"Suguru," you whined, wiggling your hips as he drove those digits all the way in, working you open with an almost clinical precision.

"What, angel?" He hm-ed, knowing exactly what you wanted - and pretending he didn't.

You knew you should be mad. Put your foot down and demand that he take you out. But when he was looking at you like this, his fingers dimpling your skin and his mouth pampering you, you couldn't bring yourself to do either.

No matter how much you missed the sun. Smelling fresh flowers in your garden. Talking to a stranger instead of someone you knew every damn detail of.

"Come on, Sugu, would it be so bad?" You tried to charm him, but he just clicked his tongue.

"What do I have to do to keep you happy, hm?" He asked, sapping your strength without even trying. Drawing it out with every fast drag of his fingers. "Fuck you until you forget about these silly ideas?"

He pulled his fingers out, mouth pressed in a thin line just for him to tug his pants down enough to free his cock.

It bounced up against his shirt, pre-cum leaving a stain on it before he wrapped his fist around his thick base.

Watching it bob as he got back on top of you, one hand still pressing your thigh down to keep you open as he nudged his fat tip against your entrance.

His chin tilting up as he started pushing in, his jaw flexing as his shoulders tensed, testing his own self-control with each inch he slid inside of you.

You used to think your knight was an expert at restraining himself.

Back when he'd keep a straight face during banquets despite how often you'd pester him about sneaking away. Composed and collected until he finally got to claim you in private.

And now, he'd stolen you.

Turned your dreamy little secret into a reality that had started to stretch towards a forever.

You were still reaching up for him, tangling your fingers in his dark hair while he reached up to softly stroke the top of yours. The weight of him pressing down as he drove his cock in further, making sure to fill you up until he was fucking every thought that wasn't about him out of that pretty head of yours.

"My princess doesn't know what she needs," he murmured, his voice thick with hunger, all dark and dangerous as he dragged you down with him.

"I need you," you whispered, voice cracking when he abruptly bottomed out, his tip smushed against your cervix as your mouth parted in a broken gasp.

You needed him to let you breathe a little. To understand that you couldn't just spend eternity in this little world he crafted for the two of you.

But none of it actually came out.

Just more messy moans, your fingers clawing at the blankets while he just thrusted into you again and again.

The bed whined under your combined weight, your thighs trembling as his hips smacked down into you. His mouth was colliding into yours, sucking on your bottom lip while he wrecked you without hesitation.

Trying to ruin you.

Rip your heart out to have for himself. Hold it hostage too.

"Maybe I should put a baby in here," he grunted when the kiss broke, his breath warm on your cheek as he gritted his teeth. Stare drifting down to your stomach with a determination you knew you should be scared of. "You wouldn't leave our baby, would you?"

He knew exactly what to say to get to you.

Which strings to pull to turn you into his perfect puppet.

No better than a plaything. A doll to be dressed up in his very own dollhouse.

"I-I-" You stammered, but shit, when he was stuffing you so full, you couldn't find enough sanity left to string coherent words together. Left writhing and whimpering as his cock rocked and rutted into all your favorite spots.

"You what? Want one?" He teased, your heart hammering faster at the idea of actually being pregnant.

Carrying his child while you were still confined to this room.

Would he be so overprotective to confine you to the bed next?

"It's okay if you don't know," he cooed, his soft voice pitching lower while the hand on your thighs slipped down so he could have fun with your clit next.

Massing it with intention, drawing rough circles over the sensitive bud while he clicked his tongue at you again.

"That's why I have to take care of you," he continued, pressing down harder, his cock pistoning back in with more force, making sure you didn't even have the air in your lungs to tell him that you didn't need to depend on him.

You loved Suguru.

But the only way he knew how to love you back was to suffocate you. You knew you were his world. He just had to make sure he was yours.

Perhaps you were a fool for thinking that you'd be able to find a way to express that to him. To change a man who already made up his mind.

"I love you," you started, swallowing hard as you tried to gather your focus enough to get the right words out this time, get him to see your side.

But then his lips were connected with yours, barely parting enough to breathe, "I love you too."

His hips slammed against yours harder, his fingers working faster, your stomach tied together in knots as the pressure pushed you to a precipice you knew you'd fall from.

"C'mon, princess, cum for me," he groaned in between kisses, swallowing your moan as your body unravelled for him in a bright burst of pleasure. Stars you sorely missed splotching across your vision as you scrunched your eyes shut, feeling him buried to the hilt as something warm started to fill you up.

Had he-

"I hope it's a girl," he muttered, half-collapsing on top of you. His forehead pressed against yours as he sucked in heavy breaths, his cock still throbbing as his cum leaked out inside you. "Or twins."

"Twins?" You echoed, dazed as you blinked up at him.

"That should keep us busy," he smirked, one corner of his mouth curling up higher than the other as he refused to pull out. Still lodged deep inside you like he wanted to make sure his seed took.

He readjusted you, pulling your legs down so he could lay on top of you fully, his firm chest pressed against your softer one, his calloused fingers caressing your cheek as he looked at you with that lovestruck stare you'd grown accustomed to.

Had it always looked so sly?

Or were you starting to piece together something you missed once the haze of sex started to dissipate?

"I'll always keep you safe."

As your lover? Your knight? Your warden?

You still weren't sure which when you woke up the next morning. The smell of sex and sweat still sticking to your skin as you rubbed your exhausted eyes and rolled over with sticky thighs.

The left side of bed was empty.

Only a warm spot where Suguru was supposed to be. Had he gone to make breakfast? Perhaps decided to spare you of more discussions of raising children in this lonely room?

You pulled the covers up to your chest as you sat up, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you stared at the ghost of your past life in the form of furniture and books you used to enjoy before you read them a hundred times.

A piece of paper was left on the nightstand, a small note you supposed Suguru must've written for you, neat letters informing you that he'd be out for the day and he left meals pre-made for you on a tray outside.

Maybe on a different day, you might've found it sweet.

But an idea sprouted in the back of your head, blooming quickly enough that you were scurrying over to your dresser to find something to throw on, hurrying to get dressed before opening the door to find the tray he mentioned.

Instead of taking a bite, you just brought it inside - and slipped back out.

Bracing yourself for the long walk down, holding your breath as you crept down the stairs, a lump in your throat that seemed to get larger with every step you took.

You refused to look at the bottom.

Slowly making your way, attempting to remind yourself that with each step you took, you were another one closer to a way out.

It wasn't like you wanted to run away.

Not really.

You doubted your family would take kindly to you returning. Especially not if their unwed princess came with the unexpected baggage of a child they'd consider a bastard. With a man of no noble blood or important background.

But you were sure that you'd die if you didn't get some fresh air soon, wither and rot up there in your single-windowed cell.

The end came into sight - the last stair just a few feet away, your feet scampering down as your excitement started to bubble over, your head snapping up to the-

Door?

There was nothing there.

Just stone walls with no way in or out.

Was it magic? Some seal on the outside that stopped anyone else from intruding on something they shouldn't?

You were simply stuck.

And you sincerely doubted any prince would be coming to save you.

a/n: feel kinda meh about how this one turned out but hope you guys enjoyed anyway <3 reblogs + comments always appreciated

"I'm taking him back," Choso grimaced, folding his arms across his chest as he glared at his half-brother.

"Don't be such a fuckin' buzzkill, the brat's just coming to my hockey game," Sukuna snapped at him, his usually short fuse apparently nonexistent today.

"Your hockey game," Choso echoed, eyes squinting suspiciously between his dark scowl and the equally irritated twitch of his mouth.

"I'm cockblocking one of his teammates," Yuji unhelpfully revealed, and Choso contemplated the feasibility of filing a restraining order on someone else's behalf. He hated the fact that Yuji even knew what cockblocking meant.

Despite the fact that he was already a teenager and definitely well past puberty.

"That's-"

"He gave me fifty bucks," Yuji added, interrupting Sukuna before he even got two words out.

Choso didn't have the heart to tell Yuji that their brother was definitely low-balling him.

Sukuna sneered though like he anticipated the protest about to leave Choso's lips, sharp nose scrunching in irritation when he exhaled slowly, running his finger through his sweaty hair as Choso tried to come up with a reason to drag Yuji away without disappointing him.

"You don't have to-"

"Are you coming too?" Yuji chirped.

The last fucking place on the planet he wanted to spend his evening at was sitting by the chilly ice rink watching asshole athletes try to knock each other's teeth at - but when it was his little brother looking at him all expectantly, he found himself agreeing through gritted teeth.

"Fine."

At least this way, he'd be able to keep Yuji out of whatever trouble Sukuna was planning.

He hadn't realized the trouble was you.

Not until Yuji had grabbed him by the sleeve and started pulling him across the bleachers a handful of hours later, nearly spilling the concession nachos Choso had bought him, dragging him to find new seats - right next to a familiar face.

Yuji had rambled more about his mission on the way here. How one of Sukuna's teammates was trying to steal a girl from him. He said Sukuna had shown him a photo, and honestly, he'd been so preoccupied with worry that this was some elaborate prank or plot at his sibling's expense that he hadn't paused to contemplate that Sukuna was serious.

The prick had never stuck his dick in the same girl long enough to start dating.

Which he also had always sworn off as something reserved for guys who couldn't get laid without bribing and begging a girl for affection.

But he guessed his brother had suddenly decided to make an exception for you.

Choso didn't realize he was staring until you caught him, your eyes locking onto his with immediate recognition.

Your head tilted to the side, lips curling up in a surprised smile as you let out a small wave and laugh.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," you greeted, a pleased hum to your voice that quite frankly baffled Choso considering he couldn't remember the last time someone spoke to him like that.

With the kind of warmth that almost made it sound like you wanted to see him.

"Yeah," he uncomfortably grumbled.

"Are you here to watch Sukuna?" Yuji immediately asked, not exactly playing the subtle card when he was supposed to be distracting you. Okay, Choso wasn't sure what his exact instructions were, but he couldn't really imagine they involved him making it obvious that Sukuna was interested in what you were doing.

No, he was more the type to act like he didn't give a shit and wait for someone to chase him or beg for an ounce of affection.

"And who's this?" You smiled, the curve of your glossy lips catching the lights as you assessed Yuji's pink hair and puppy dog eyes, ignoring his question entirely. "A third brother?"

He was nodding, already chirping about their...complicated family situation while you scooted over and gestured for them to sit next to you.

Choso was having a hard time paying attention to the easy exchange though, struggling to piece together why you showed up when you skirted around it before.

Clad in what could qualify as the world's tiniest skirt - and a jersey from the other team.

“Aren’t you cold?” He heard himself ask, and you seemed kinda pleased by the question. Sitting up straighter as you briefly looked down at yourself.

“Are you going to offer me your jacket?” You asked back.

“No?” Choso pursed his lips together, not quite getting it.

You frowned for a moment, but then you recovered the easygoing expression you had put on a few seconds earlier. “Then no.”

"Are you dating Sukuna?" Yuji pestered, subject shifting before it could get uncomfortable, his elbow clumsily knocking against yours as you snuck a chip from his tray.

"God, no," you laughed, rolling your eyes at the mere idea of a relationship with their brother.

Yuji pouted at that, confusion flickering across his face as your attention shifted to the still empty ice rank, your heels clicking against the metal bleacher. Did you realize they were completely inappropriate for the venue?

Or did you just not care?

"Did you really come for him then?" He heard himself ask, maybe a little more curious in his half-brother's business than he should be. Immediately telling himself he was just prying for more information to better protect Yuji.

First, you fucked Sukuna.

Then, you were at the bar with Suguru the same night, who, from where he was standing, seemed into you.

But now you were sitting here in a third man's number, unbothered as you played with a ring on one of your fingers, studying Choso's face with a sharp scrutiny he was pretty sure he was about to melt under.

"To piss him off," you conspiratorially giggled, shrugging your shoulders as you glanced down at the name and number on your chest. "Think he'll get annoyed?"

Choso made some noncommittal sound, reclining back in his seat as Yuji finally realized what you had on.

"Are you dating someone else?" He asked, and your face scrunched up, heavy lashes fluttering before you shook your head.

"I'm a little old for you," you teased, tossing your hair back as a few more people started to filter into the stands. "But, no, I'm very much single."

"Not me," Yuji flushed, forcing the words out with a light whine. "I think Sukuna really likes you."

You laughed at that.

Choso wasn't sure why he cracked a smile at your response, especially not when Yuji started pouting at how absurd you thought his assertion was.

"The only thing Sukuna likes is-" You started, just to stop yourself when your eyes flitted over to Choso for a second, preemptively sensing his anxiety that you might let something crude slip. "Actually, I don't think your other brother would approve of me saying it."

"Thanks," Choso reluctantly muttered, despite Yuji immediately trying to swear that he was mature enough to hear it, that kids at school said way worse, but you just pretended to lock your lips and throw the key.

Choso plucked a chip from Yuji's tray, dipping it in the cheese and holding it out across from his brother's lap for you to take. There was a softness in the brief expression that flashed across your face when you took it, your fingers brushing against his before you pulled it away. Eyes never leaving his even when you brought it up to your mouth.

He broke your stare, averting his attention back to the ice, foot bouncing as he waited for the game to start.

But even when it did, when he was watching the scoreboard and listening to the announcer over the speakers, he kept getting distracted by the conversation beside him.

Unable to tune out the unending stream of questions Yuji kept pestering you with, from how you met Sukuna to what your major was to if you'd broken any bones as a kid to what you wanted to do after you graduated.

"Can't you just date my brother anyway?" Yuji complained, tugging on the end of the sleeve hanging off your arm, already comfortable with you in just a couple hours.

The nacho tray was empty. The game was already in its last period.

You weren't even looking out on the ice anymore, your body half-turned to more comfortably chat with his younger brother as you shook your head.

"Which one?" You teased, and Choso had to stop his head from swiveling in disbelief, face heating up as his jaw locked tight while you laughed.

You were just joking.

Of course.

"Either," Yuji insisted.

Choso had to pretend he didn't hear, his stomach churning as he shoved down the absurd idea of someone like you being with someone like him.

He felt your eyes on him, but he refused to turn, keeping his head forward even when he heard you start to say his name, only for Yuji to start rambling again.

"Don't tell Sukuna I told you, but he gave me fifty bucks to stop you from sleeping with his teammate, so I mean, he must really-"

You scoffed, and Yuji stopped talking immediately, Choso's protective half had him swiveling back around to make sure you hadn't hurt his feelings.

"Sleeping with his teammate?" You defensively echoed, one of your perfect brows pulling up with amusement as Yuji sheepishly shrugged. "Toji told me to come because he owes me money."

"Oh," Yuji's nose scrunched up in confusion, like he was reconsidering his mission. "So you're not going to sleep with him?"

You shook your head, but that smile you'd kept plastered on faltered for a second when you realized that Choso was watching too.

"Or Sukuna," you added, looking down to your purse in your lap - pulling out your lip gloss to reapply it.

"Oh," Yuji repeated with thinly-veiled disappointment.

What little was left of the game passed by just as awkwardly, Yuji’s failed attempt at matchmaking casting a cloud over even your sunny disposition.

But even when it was over, when the buzzer sounded off, none of you got up from where you were seated.

“Did they win?” You asked, glancing over at both of them like you wanted to make it clear you couldn’t give less of a shit.

“No,” Choso deadpanned, well aware of what that would mean.

Sukuna would come home slamming doors and talking about how much he hated the ref and call the other team a bunch of pussies before calling over someone to fuck his anger out on.

He’d always been a sore loser.

How much worse would he take it when he wouldn’t get to bring you home as a prize either?

Choso guessed he’d just call up some other sorority girl.

You were glancing down at your phone, swiping something away on it before looking between them with an expression he struggled to comprehend when he didn’t really comprehend you.

“I guess I should go,” you murmured, starting to stand as that little skirt of yours rode up on your thighs. Choso forced himself to drag his stare away, a lump behind bobbing in his throat as his brother huffed.

“Can’t you stay until Sukuna gets out?” Yuji complained, nearly crumpling the tray in his lap and spilling cheese as he got up after you.

“Was that part of your deal?” You asked, chewing the inside of your cheek like you were considering it. But then you glanced past Yuji to look down at Choso curiously.

Waiting for him to chime in.

To offer some opinion instead of just sitting there silently.

But he just quietly watched you back, wondering who you’d be staying for if you said yes.

“Did he promise you extra cash or something?” You added before his brother had answered your first question.

“Well, no, not exactly,” Yuji muttered, reaching underneath the collar of his hoodie to scratch his neck. “But he said he’d get me ice cream.”

You looked to Choso again, and if he wasn’t confused before, he certainly was after you directed your next question to him. “Are you going too?”

“To get ice cream?” He squinted at you, like his eye sight was the problem instead of his hearing.

He had to be misunderstanding somehow.

Why would it even matter if he went?

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, dreamily drawing out the sound.

“I guess,” he mumbled.

It wasn’t like he could leave his little brother in Sukuna’s hands.

Not when he’d probably fill his head with stories of fucking girls and teaching him how to flirt and flunk out of classes. Scoff and insist that grades didn’t mean anything and giving a shit was pointless.

“Can I come?”

reblogs + comments are always greatly appreciated <3

Especially when there was a different face in your mind, a dark stare that pierced straight through your heart.

"I can go get some pain killers," he offered, yawning as he sat up straight, pretending like he wasn't hurt by how hard you were staring at him like a stranger. His chest on display, pale skin catching the sun as he stretched out his long arms, rolling his shoulders back as he not-subtly showed them off.

"I have some in my bag," you mumbled, pointing to the one half-open and rummaged through on the floor on the other side of the room.

Satoru stood, totally naked as he strolled over to it, bending over to dig through your clothes and tossing out a couple pairs of panties before he found the small bottle of painkillers you purchased from the resort gift shop the first night you got here.

He unscrewed the cap to take one himself before he tossed it over to you.

You didn't catch it, but it landed on your lap.

The warning label staring back at you as you wondered how many warnings you ignored before you ended up here.

Dealing with the awkward morning after with the worst person you could've possibly slept with.

Satoru casually walked over to the mini-fridge, pulling out a bottle of water to chase it down before leaning over the bed and holding it out for you to take.

Definitely what you should've been drinking last night, but no, you always learned your lesson a little too late.

The bottle was barely cold, the mini-fridge hardly keeping it below room temperature even for how expensive this place had to be.

Still, you took a long sip, the water doing nothing to soothe how dry your mouth felt when you were hyper aware of who you were drinking after.

But you had done a lot fucking more than just swapping saliva.

"Say it," Satoru spoke softly, looking at you with understanding you weren't expecting.

"What?" You blinked, almost choking on your water.

"That it was a mistake," he muttered.

It was.

But it was suddenly so much harder to actually get it out when he was looking at you like he didn't regret it at all. Like he'd known that this was how it would always end between you.

"Satoru," you apologetically began, swallowing hard, even though that lump that seemed to live in your throat lately wasn't budging. "We-"

"We were just drunk?" He offered the excuse for you when it was obvious you were struggling to finish.

"I don't want to hurt Suguru," you murmured, not that your sentiment meant much after what you'd done. "Or you."

His disappointed smile was enough for you to know you already had.

"I get it," he shrugged.

"You're great," you offered, trying to salvage some of the situation, to not push away one of the few people who tried to support you when he didn't have to. Although, now that you had sex, some tiny voice in your head couldn't help but suggest that perhaps that was all he wanted from you after all. "I'm just not-"

"You don't have to justify yourself to me," he interrupted before you could put yourself down, before you could push him away.

Was it really Suguru's feelings you were trying to save here? Sukuna's?

Or were you just trying to protect yourself again?

Common sense screamed at you that any sort of relationship that started from this wouldn't end well.

You were too sour for someone as sweet as Satoru.

All you'd do was disappoint him.

It's what you were doing right now, wasn't it?

Because no matter what you said, or swore, he could see it written all over your face that you wished last night hadn't happened when it only left you even more confused.

Wracked with guilt over what the fuck you were going to tell the men waiting for you, how you were supposed to move forward when you were caught in a messy web of feelings you were tangled and tied up by.

"I'm sorry," you half-whispered, clearly still feeling the effects of the alcohol when you realized you sorta wanted to cry about it, breath hitching uncomfortably as you averted your eyes away from his.

"You don't have to be," Satoru casually said, still playing the light-hearted guy you'd gotten to know. Too well, you guessed, since you could tell it was just a mask. That he was hiding how he felt to save you from feeling worse.

"I am, I-" You were floundering. Headache pounding behind your eyes as you bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, reaching up to rub your eyes. "You keep getting dragged into my problems and-"

"I want to be the guy that solves them," he stopped you, one knee on the bed as he got down on your level, forcing you to look him in the eyes so you could see that he was actually serious for once. "But I'm not the only one."

And while you were here, naked and hungover, Suguru and Sukuna were trying to put the rest of your life back together.

You had to choose.

Decide if you wanted one or none of them.

But how were you supposed to know who wouldn't leave you heartbroken?

Who wouldn't leave you wondering and wishing for someone else once all the dust settled?

And what if, the answers weren't the same?

What if the one would tear your heart out and take it with him when the two of you fell apart?

Your mouth opened, but the right words eluded you. All the words did.

Sitting there, surely looking stupid as you struggled to say anything to stay friends, at least.

"I'll go," Satoru quietly said, going to pick up last night's clothes before starting to get dressed. Pulling his stained shirt back over his head as you helplessly watched him.

"Last night, I-" You tried one more time, but he held up his hand. The same one that spent half the night exploring your body.

"I want you," he bluntly said. "It's fine if you don't want me back. But I'll still be there for you when you get back."

No room for misunderstandings.

Nowhere for you to hide how you felt either.

"I don't know what I want," you honestly murmured, and he gave you one more soft smiles of his, walking back over to where you were sitting in the bed. Bending over to press a small kiss to your forehead, a stifled squeak of surprise almost escaping your lips.

"I know," he mumbled back. "Call me when you get a little closer to figuring it out."

How long would that take you?

A week? A month?

More?

You wanted all of this to be over.

To be back in a bed that felt like yours, in a place that felt like home, where you could wake up and go to a job where you didn't have to think about how many of your coworkers had seen your sex tape.

Was that too much to ask?

It felt pretty fucking far-fetched as you stared at Satoru's broad frame walking away while you cut into your own palms with your nails, lungs straining to get air in-and-out as you heard the door thud shut behind him.

Left alone to stare at the wall, to count the seconds of silence as you curled back up under the covers to shut your eyes like you could shut off the rest of the world too.

Your brain was barely functioning. Your ass was sore. But really, all you could focus on was how tired you were of the hurt you'd been harboring in your heart from months.

Fuck, years.

It'd been ripped open and stitched together so many times you were sick of just slathering superglue in the cracks.

This was just the latest cut.

The freshest wound.

You'd done it to yourself this time.

And as you tried not to doze back off, slip back into nightmares you couldn't control, you wondered why.

Yeah, Satoru was attractive. Sweet. The type of attentive you had a hard time saying no too.

But you couldn't help but ask yourself if part of you hadn't wanted to hurt Suguru and Sukuna just a little bit. Make them feel abandoned too, or make yourself feel better about what they'd done to you.

The guilt that was already there just encased your lungs, all thick and slimy and heavy as you hastily crawled out of bed to pick up your phone from where you left it on the floor last night.

You didn't have it in you to shower yet.

The bathroom lights were too bright. And you didn't think you could deal with looking in the mirror right now. Instead, you picked up a robe you left draped on the furniture, hastily tying it around yourself as you sat in one of the chairs, bringing your knees up to your chest as you unlocked your phone.

You didn't really know whose contact you were looking for until you landed on it.

Suguru must have set your ringtone to something he recognized, because he answered before the second ring. Saying your name into the speaker like it was something special.

Like you were.

"Um, hi," you mumbled, wondering if he could hear your hangover when your voice was trembling already.

"Drink too much last night?" He wryly asked, and you let out a nervous exhale.

"Yeah, like, a lot," you honestly answered, tucking the phone against your head and shoulder, shutting your eyes at the sharp stab of pain behind them from the simple movement. "Before you ask, yes, I took medicine and drank water."

He chuckled a little at that.

"You know me too well. How are you doing?" He asked softly, warmth in your ear that almost made you wince. "Having fun?"

You weren't even dating him anymore, but it still felt like far more than just some minor betrayal to fuck his best friend.

"Um, I got a visitor," you answered, not totally sure how to say it without awkwardly spilling everything immediately.

"Yeah, I saw," Suguru muttered, and you could hear his disappointment. "Someone got photos of you guys on the beach."

"Oh," you swallowed, biting your already broken and bleeding lips.

Of course.

You were still being watched.

Photographed and filmed for strangers' entertainment.

"They all think that we're in some polyamorous relationship or you're dating Satoru and he's just a, you know-" Suguru didn't finish, but you figured it out for yourself.

A cuck.

God, his dad definitely wanted to kill him now if he didn't before.

"Either one is probably more normal than whatever this is," you accidentally said out loud, and he actually laughed, a short burst of it that soothed you for a second before you realized that this wouldn't last.

Suguru would find out sooner or later what you did.

There wasn't going to be an easy way to admit it. To come clean when you felt filthy for what you'd done.

You didn't want to be the reason he lost Satoru. Didn't want to become them or their band.

"Suguru," you apologetically started, shutting your eyes before you even said it. "I'm sorry, I just have to be honest with you, uh, me and Satoru sorta slept together last night."

You waited for him to tell you he hated you. That he couldn't believe it or something equally damning. Condemn you for being a bitch or a whore or a slut even when you knew he'd come up with something more clever.

Not his slow exhale.

"I figured it would happen," he admitted, but his hurt wasn't hidden. Right there in his wounded acceptance, the thick swallow audible even on the grainy line.

"You-" You stopped yourself, unsure where you were about to go with your sentence.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"He told me he was in love with you last week," Suguru lightly scoffed, and a discomforting feeling settled in your stomach as you started nervously playing with the hem of your robe while he continued, "He swore he wasn't going to do anything, but I mean, it was just a matter of time."

He sounded resigned.

Like he'd given up.

"I don't think he was planning to," you weakly defended, even though you hadn't really begun to process the knowledge that Satoru told him that he was fucking in love with you. Wanting someone was one thing. But you didn't know what the fuck to do with Satoru's love when all you'd been preparing yourself for was lust. "I let him come in my room, and we were both really wasted. I wouldn't have-"

What?

Slept with him sober?

"You deserve someone whose going to make you happy. If it's him-"

"He already left. I told him I didn't want to hurt you," you mumbled, pulse annoyingly pounding as you paused. "I'm sorry."

You already said it.

But you wanted him to know you actually meant it. That it wasn't some rehearsed line to clear the air.

"We're not together," Suguru said, almost like he was telling you that you didn't owe him any apologies. But it stung to hear anyway.

"I know," you half-whispered. "But I shouldn't have fucked him when I still have some feelings for you."

What they were exactly, you weren't sure, but it would be a lie to say they weren't there.

Suguru was silent.

Every second he didn't speak was more painful than the last, yet, you couldn't bring yourself to take it back.

"Can't you just tell me you hate me? Please?" You asked instead, reaching up to rub your eyes as you resisted the urge to cry again. "I lied to you when we were together and I just slept with your best friend, and-"

"You wouldn't be there right now if I hadn't fucked us up," he stopped you mid-spiral, and you knew if he was here, he'd probably pull you into a hug or drag his thumb under your eyes to stop the tears from falling. "It's my fault Satoru even had the space to come between us."

"You're not going to strangle him, right?"

"You're not going to sleep with him again?" He asked, careful to toe the line between teasing and taking this seriously.

"No," you mumbled. You'd just get food service delivered to your room and hole up inside it for the next week if you had to. "I'm not getting drunk again either. Like, ever."

You still felt two seconds away from throwing up, the throbbing pain in your brain refusing to dull as Suguru chuckled through the phone.

"I'm not going to kill Satoru," he promised you, even though you could still hear how pissed he was at his friend - no matter how carefully he concealed it under his steady tone.

It just made you feel more like a screw-up for putting him in this position.

Yeah, he hurt you. Broke your heart before.

But all the lines between exes and lovers and friends had been crossed and redrawn and blurred so many times that you didn't know whether to hate him or yourself for how things were now.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," you mumbled, wondering whether or not wallowing would ever get you anywhere. How you were supposed to climb out of a hole you kept digging deeper.

"There's nothing wrong-"

"I always do this," you stopped him before he could defend you. Not sober enough to stop talking but too drunk to make much sense of what you were rambling about. "Sleep with someone I shouldn't and run away instead of actually facing anything."

You'd done it with Sukuna.

Fucked him and fled the morning after and started the whole awful act of pretending you were just friends.

You tried to do it with Suguru.

Gave the relationship thing a try only to run away at the first huge hurdle.

And here you were, hours away from both men after you sent another one away.

Holed up to hide your feelings from not just them, but yourself.

You didn’t want to keep having the same conversations. Stay stuck in this stupid cycle.

“You don’t have to have everything figured out, you know,” Suguru murmured.

Still the same man you fell for from that first meeting. The one that could disarm you so easily. Soothe you even when you wanted to be upset.

“I don’t think I have anything figured out,” you grimaced.

You wouldn’t have a job when you came home. A place to say.

Just a sex tape and your own splintered pride to show for the last six months of your life.

Meanwhile, Manami probably still hadn’t faced any real repercussions for ruining your reputation, your prospects, your world. You’d skimmed over what the lawyers had emailed you, but any court case would take years.

You needed to pull yourself together now.

“There’s nothing wrong with starting fresh,” Suguru started, but you were sighing before he had even fully finished.

“What? Like change my name? Create a fake identity?” You sarcastically teased, jaw locking when it hit you that you sounded sort of like Sukuna.

“I’m just saying we don’t have to hold onto the past,” he clarified, all mature. Reasonable.

“Oh,” you muttered. “Yeah.”

You had no idea how to do that.

Your past was Sukuna.

From scraped knees and school dances to the songs and the sex, to his smirk and his hands on your skin, it was all him. Late nights on his couch or tangled together in his sheets. He colored your memories. Colored your relationships.

Moving on was always so far out of your grasp you sort of stopped considering it a real option somewhere along the way.

It had been so much simpler to assure yourself that you were fine with it. Swear that you didn’t care what or who he did outside of you.

But then you met Suguru, and then came Satoru, and now you were beginning to consider that maybe the smartest thing you could do was buy a wig and a flight and start a new life where no one knew you.

Not that anyone new you could possibly meet would be able to compare.

“Can I take you out for dinner when you come home?" Suguru abruptly asked, and it surprised you how quickly you were about to say yes.

"Like, actually go out?" You murmured, mulling over it.

There was a whole list of reasons to say no. A city waiting to capture your private moments on camera. An ending that you'd be risking unravelling.

"Yeah, somewhere quiet. Just us," he suggested. "I know a place."

Was he asking you on a date? Or would you be going under the guise of friends?

"Why?" You asked softly, looking for any reason to say yes in spite of everything else.

"I miss hanging out with you," he admitted. "Getting lunch with you before was honestly the best time I've had since we broke up."

"Yeah," you spoke quietly, nodding to yourself even though he couldn't see it. "Dinner is, uh, good. We could do that."

There was a gap, a brief lull, like he might be surprised you said yes.

"Great," Suguru breathed. "I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay," you shrugged to yourself, already replaying his words, rewinding and working through your conversation before he'd even hung up.

You did miss Suguru. Missed how comfortable you used to feel around him before all the stuff with Manami started and everything got all fucked up.

Sukuna would be pissed off if he knew.

Might try to start round two of another one-sided boxing match.

But it was still enough to make you pause, force you to think about the fact you weren't sure which of them you missed more.

"Will you text me?" Suguru asked, and you couldn't help but remember how much had changed from those first two weeks you'd known him - how Satoru basically had to shove the two of you back together since you were both being stupid and stubborn.

Despite what Suguru had sworn, you had a hard time believing that he'd just let Satoru sleeping with you just slide.

"Yeah," you awkwardly confirmed.

And like the coward you were, you hung up the phone when you heard his slow inhale, cutting him off before he could say something else that might undo the rest of your call.

Staring at the screen blankly once it was over, ignoring the message from Sukuna that popped up.

You told Suguru. He'd taken it okay.

But he'd apparently known Satoru had some kind of feelings for you first.

Sukuna was already having a hard time. If you broke the news over the phone that you fucked someone he just started to become friends with, there was a nonzero chance he'd book the first flight out here to beat Satoru's ass.

And you were exhausted of being the one to break up his fights.

So, you did something you knew you could easily end up regretting later.

Why tell Sukuna now when he'd crash out just as hard when you got back home?

Silencing your phone before padding back over to the bed, burying your face back into the pillow that still smelled faintly of Satoru and made the most likely not mature decision to just go back to sleep.

Barely messaging any of the men you'd let bury themselves inside you over the next week and a half, only offering vague assurances you were fine outside of sunbathing and swimming and sleeping.

Drying out and refusing to touch another drink until your head started to clear. The fog fading into a faint outline of a plan for your return.

Yuki offered an extra room at her place for you to stay so you wouldn't have to worry about a hotel or leeching off a man. You'd have to find a new job first, although the dollar amounts attached to the handful of offers in your inbox about exclusive interviews or photoshoots were a tiny bit tempting after the defeat in already being exposed.

But you didn't want to sell your soul - not when you were still taping it together.

Once you had some form of steady employment, you'd get some cheap studio apartment, hopefully in a less shitty place than the one you left.

Still, even when you knew what you were going to do, there was only dread in your stomach when you got off the plane back to the place you used to call home.

Sunglasses still perched on the tip of your nose, one hand in your hoodie while you read a message from Kaori confirming that Jin would be there to drive you to Yuki's.

You glanced up from your phone, mouth pressed in a thin line as you scanned the crowd for him.

But there was a different pink-haired man waiting for you in the crowd.

One you recognized instantly, even if he was trying to blend into the background by leaning against the wall towards the bathroom. He was dressed up, wearing some button-up that didn't seem to belong on his wide shoulders, a nice jacket slung over his elbow, slacks clinging to his muscled thighs as he walked over to you.

You stood still, stunned at the sight of him looking more like a movie star than some guitarist who used to exclusively perform at one-star bars.

"Hey," Sukuna gruffly greeted you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

It took you a second to return it, body going stiff before you wrapped your arms back around him. Closing your eyes as your cheek got squished against his chest, feeling his palm press against the small of your back as he inhaled your new shampoo.

"Got a surprise for you," he mumbled.

"Why do you look like-" You started to ask, but he was already leading you away, interlacing his fingers with yours automatically. And there you were, following him without thinking about it too.

"Just got out of this idiotic meeting with our management," he answered, pushing up his own sunglasses as he hurried towards the closest exit. "Feel like a fuckin' prick in this."

"You look good." Your mouth moved to compliment him before your brain reminded you that you were still annoyed at him.

"Thanks," he mumbled, and even under the harsh airport lighting, you could swear his cheeks looked a little pink.

You wondered if he was worried about being seen with you.

Okay, no, that wasn't quite right.

You were worried that him being seen with you would hurt him. If it would just be another drop of resentment in your relationship.

Being seen with the girl from your rival band's leaked sex tape probably wasn't a good look.

But he didn't let go of your hand, his palms getting clammy by the time he pulled you through the exit, already hurrying across the parking lot to get to his car.

"There's fur on your jacket," you commented as you walked, plucking out a gray hair from the top of it just for his shoulders to slump a little at the sight.

"My therapist recommended I get a, uh, pet," he begrudgingly admitted. "Something to take care of."

You almost laughed.

Trying to picture him at an animal shelter scowling at all the creatures in cages.

"A pet? What'd you get?" You gawked at him, a smile tugging up on your lips against your will.

"A cat," he grumbled.

"Did you name it already? What does it look like?" You pressed, the dread in your stomach fizzling out at the idea that maybe that was the surprise.

"She already had a name," he grunted. "So before you laugh-"

"Oh my god, is it embarrassing then?" You covered your mouth, concealing the giggle that nearly escaped.

"Muffin," he muttered, definitely blushing now as he hit the button on his car keys to unlock the doors right as you approached.

"You have a cat named Muffin," you repeated, suppressing every strong urge to laugh right in his face as he opened your door for you.

"So what?" He locked his jaw, cocking his head to the side as he waited for you to get in.

You were about to - but then you saw what was already in your seat.

A blindfold.

"What's that for?" You frowned, bottom lip pushed out as you looked back up at him.

"Your surprise."

You should've known better by now.

But Sukuna always knocked you off guard. Threw you back into the deep end right when you started to crawl out.

Giving you a smirk you hadn't seen in so long that somehow convinced you to let him tie it around your eyes, even when you mumbled under your breath that he was already on thin ice.

You tried to ask where you were going.

Sukuna refused to give you a real answer. Just returning each of your questions with his own about your vacation.

And the longer you sat there, the more the guilt started to resurface.

Because as good as this was, as fun as it felt to not be fighting with him for once, you knew it would fall apart once he found out what you'd done with Satoru.

But you couldn't get yourself to say it in the car, or even outside of it when he had one palm on your back and the other fingers on your wrist as he led you inside what had to be a building, or in the elevator as you heard him press a button and the soft hum of an acoustic song.

"Sukuna, seriously, where-"

"We're literally almost there," he scolded you, and you rolled your eyes behind the thick fabric obscuring your vision. Standing there awkwardly as you shuffled on the balls of your feet, yawning as you got off the elevator - and let him lead you through a door.

"You know, I was supposed to be going to Yuki's, right-" You started, just to break the thick tension crackling between the two of you before you felt his fingers brushing against your face, tenderly tugging the blindfold down.

You didn't believe it.

Blinking at your new surroundings, him standing in front of you, the center piece of a puzzle you no longer wanted to solve.

You were in someone's apartment. Someone's very, very nice apartment.

Spacious. Open. The last light of the day streaming in. A nice TV hung up on the wall and an expensive rug underneath your feet.

It was beautiful. The sort of place you dreamed about living in one day.

"Whose place is this?" You asked, your voice coming out strained as your eyes slowly dragged over the walls.

You saw it before he said it.

An old photo of the two of you, framed in gold on a side table. Back from college, his arm slung over your shoulder as you smiled at the camera.

"It's yours," he shrugged, pulling a key from his pocket and holding it out for you to take.

"I can't afford a place like this," you shook your head, voice cracking as you stared at the pretty arched windows overlooking the city below, the new furniture he must have picked out with you in mind. Replacements for all the stuff you could've salvage.

"That's why I paid for it," he said, like it should be obvious.

"I never asked you to-"

Pure panic started to overwrite your brain, aware you were blinking too fast, breathing too hard as you took in all the tiny details he'd put into this while you were gone.

"Yeah, but you let that asshole pay for your vacation, so this is the least you can let me do," he sarcastically muttered, as if this wasn't totally different.

Lips parting to protest, but you couldn't come up with a defense, a way to explain how it wasn't the same thing at all. That was just a couple weeks where you could relax.

This felt more like the rest of your life.

Some big commitment you were scared to make - that he made for you.

Part of you wanted to pick a fight instead, accuse him of just trying to one-up Satoru, but you were speechless.

Staring at him as you tried to catch your breath, overwhelmed by what he'd done for you. Without even knowing what you'd done when he wasn't there.

"The rent has to be fucking insane," you started to stammer, taking a few steps forward only for him to follow you.

"That's why I just bought it," he bluntly said, like it was that simple. You didn't know what to say. How to feel.

You knew he had money.

Enough for his car and guitars. Enough to pay for his apartment and his house.

But he still bought the same old clothes and lived off the same food, didn't splurge on designer shit or anything extravagant.

It wasn't who he was.

"It's-"

Sukuna frowned, brows scrunched together like he knew you were going to tell him it was too much.

"Live here for a month and see if you like it," he suggested. But the problem wasn't that you wouldn't like it. The problem was he knew you would love it.

And now, you'd have to wake up in a bed every day that Sukuna bought for you.

Or maybe it was just that this was another big change in your relationship, a moment showcasing his maturity when you were still struggling to pick yourself up from rock bottom.

He had a huge setback, and still here he was, pushing forward and trying to move past it while you just felt stuck.

"What if you hate me one day?"

He just looked at you like you just posed the dumbest question on the planet. How else were you supposed to tell him that you were starting to think that all you'd ever do was hurt each other?

"You're the only person I could never hate," he grunted.

But it was still tiring to be the only one he liked.

"What if-"

"I don't give a shit what happens," he cut you off before you could ask him another hypothetical, before you could overanalyze his answers and his attitude and try to figure out if you fit in his life or if you were both just forcing it. "I bought this because I want you to have everything you want."

You thought back to what you said to Satoru.

And maybe, deep inside your chest, you were starting to have the faintest inkling of what that was.

"Stop staring at me like there's a catch. It's just yours," Sukuna repeated, as if you'd suddenly accept it when he said it a second time. Stepping closer to put the key directly in your palm, closing your fingers around it. "No strings attached."

"No strings attached?" You echoed him, thinking back to the last time the two of you thought that was a good idea.

"You can stop talking to me forever after I walk out that door if you want," he shrugged, even though he was looking back at you like it would kill him if you actually did. "If you're sick of me."

"You still really shouldn't have-" You began scolding him, softer this time as he shook his head.

"I should've done it years ago," he insisted, regret glinting in his eyes. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

It shouldn't get to you.

But you felt yourself wavering, heart thumping too fast as you felt the ridges of the key dig into your palm.

"I guess you can give me a tour of the place," you reluctantly muttered.

He did.

Echoing statements you guessed he probably heard from a real estate agent as he pointed out square footage and open spaces, grunting where he got some of your new stuff while you recognized what few items you'd boxed up to be put in storage, mentioning that he already moved your car to the parking lot and left your keys back in the kitchen.

It was exceeded you first impression.

Set up just the way Sukuna knew you would like it - and you were reminded of just how well he really did know you.

Once your mini-tour was over, he ran back down to grab your stuff from the backseat of his car, bringing it back up and dropping it by your door as he awkwardly stood next to them.

"I'm gonna head out," he spoke slowly, all gravelly and rough. "Gotta feed Muffin."

"Pet her for me," you muttered, leaning against the wall as you stifled your surprise that he wasn't staying. Not trying to sleepover or even spend the night on the couch.

He stepped over your bags, pausing in front of you to look down at your face, studying your features with a softness you still couldn't get used to.

"Can you come with me to my therapy session tomorrow?" he murmured, reaching out to graze his fingers against your cheek. His jaw locked like he'd like to do a lot more, but holding himself back.

Refusing to rush into it the way you both always did.

Trying to stay at the same speed for once instead of too fast or too slow.

"Send me the address," you nodded. You already agreed to it before, hadn't you?

Besides, you could use a therapist.

A third party to break down what you felt and what the hell you were supposed to do with it when you were sure your heart had been split in different halves.

Maybe you could break it to him that you fucked Satoru there while you were at it.

reblogs n comments are super appreciated <3 love hearing your thoughts as always ! i was actually going to have the therapy appointment in this one but it was already getting pretty long so i decided to split it and put it in the next one!