summary┈➤ giving your virginity to yuji itadori <3

tags┈➤ NSFW, virginreader, boyfriend yuji, aged up yuji, one shot, fluff, praise kink ment. (all characters are 18+) barely proof read ..

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

“i wanna… but- but only if you’re ready, baby!”

yuji itadori surpasses every guy you’ve ever dated- which hasn’t been many. he’s always at your beck and call wanting to improve your day- your life, really. flowers. kisses. constant pampering and care. and he really, really tries to be a gentleman. he’s patient and considerate when it comes to your nervousness, all he ever wants is for you to be comfortable.

“i-is that too much..? yuji whispered as he pulled away from your neck, both of you topless and wrapped up in one another in his dorm room. “nuhuh” you breath against him. yuji was massaging your right breast, gently tugging and twirling with the bud while placing wet kisses on your neck. his mouth moved to yours with hesitation, a small lick on your bottom lip before mashing into you with hunger. your thighs clenched at the sensation, heat growing between them rapidly. he pulled away from you, a string of saliva still connecting you.

he looked down at you with those big beautiful doe eyes, nearly glazing over with lust. “you’re just- wow, you’re just so beautiful like this.” his briefs felt like a prison, his cock pulsating painfully as he stared down at your flushed face, tits spilling off your chest as it rises and falls. he palmed his crotch, gently tugging at his own ache. “can.. can i just?” yuji’s head dove down before he could finish his sentence, taking the fat of your breast in his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue as if he was trying to savor your taste. you release soft moans only making it harder for him to keep his composure, and you? you’re trying not to fall apart beneath him, being submerged with new sensations of pleasure.

“y-yuuu, please .. touch me more.” he swallowed hard, unsure if he heard you correctly - unsure that he was really doing everything right. “yeah, princess? o-okay..” he gripped the flesh of your thighs with an affectionate squeeze, slowly pulling off your panties as if he was a child opening his first christmas present. “wow, baby you’re soaked. this soaked, f’me..? wow..” a whine escaped his throat as he wiggled further down onto the bed, he was staring at your saturated pussy- and as if he was being sucked in, dove his head in. your eyes almost immediately rolled back into your skull, thighs clenching his head as he devoured the most sensitive part of you. “s’so good princess.. fuck you taste so good..”

his slender and trembling fingers slipped their way into your folds- curling at just the right angle to have you gripping the sheets. he pumped them in and out of your walls at a steady pace while allowing his tongue to dance on every inch. a deep stir of pressure arose in your belly. “nnnhh, yuji i th-think m’ gonna-“ those creamy eyes stared up at you, his licks becoming sloppy yet targeted. in the blink of an eye, the heaving of shuddering breaths, you rode out your orgasm against his mouth.

still trembling, yuji lifted himself up. your shiny slick coating his lips and chin, he freed himself from his briefs with a few gentle pumps. “i wanna… can you- can you do that again..?” he scooted your weakened body higher up onto the bed, gentle “you okays?” at every shift of your body. despite the nervousness, your body was yearning for more of him- inching your sobbing cunt closer and closer to him. yuji propped your legs up against him, ankles at his ears, placing gentle kisses on the flesh he could reach.

he slapped the swollen mushroom tip against your clit, whimpering at the contact. “i wanna make you feel good again…” he slid himself against you slowly, until he couldn’t resist being sucked in. he slid his enlarged sex into you- easily, a groan escaping his throat. “g-ggod! fuck, that’s amazing- you’re amazing, i need more.” he bottomed out in a final thrust, vibrating in place- resisting his movements to let you adapt to his vast size. “s’good, can i move princess..? hm? i wanna make you - hhnng, i wan’ you to make those pretty sounds again…” he started slowly moving his hips, enjoying the sight of him sliding in and out of you. “wanna… hah, wanna see your pretty blissed out face again..”

your body tensed at his size, you’ve seen yuji’s impressive “build” before- tasted it, gagged on it with a two handed grip, but you could feel him deep inside you. only half way in, and he’s softly scratching at your cervix, it aches, but you speak before you can think. “mmore, more please, yuji!” you were breathless, in a daze of pleasure and love. “mm, of course! of course baby, yeah!” his enthusiasm led to a wicked grin and focused eyes- soft pounds against your cunt, gripping your hips so hard you felt like he could crush you. wet and grotesque sounds of “thlap, thlap, thlap!” filled the empty dorm room, moans bouncing off the walls that neither of you could bother to hide. besides, yuji was obsessed with your sounds.

every single pummel was followed by praise. “such a pretty girl… aah!” “my baby so pretty, she feels s’good”, i wanna fill you up.” yuji’s thrusts became sloppy and weaker, his fists balled up on the sides of the bed to hold himself up for support. his head started to hang lower towards your body, the wetness of his breath tickled your skin. he lifted himself up with a heaving pant, gently stroking your cheek before taking your throat in his hand with a secure grasp. sloppy thrusts turned aggressive- violent, hitting that gorgeous spot that makes your eyes roll back into your head. a smile spreads from his open mouth, staring in aw as your weak moans turned to guttural groans getting caught in your throat.

“y-yu, i’m, i’m!” your vision went white, that familiar stir returning - but deeper, stronger. your mouth slacked open, ankles tight around his neck, hands paralyzed around your own body. “i know baby, im here, c’mon.. cum all over my cock, please? ohh, please pretty girl?” like a dams walls erupting, the pressure within you bursted like a balloon- your mess gushing all over the sheets as your walls squeezed his cock nearly to suffocation. your body slumped further into the mattress, limp, dead, and quivering. used and abused from pleasure, but yuji was nearing his end. “look at me, ahh, look at me, y/n!” he gripped your cheeks- stroking one with his thumb, “yeah, yeah just like that!”

he ripped himself from your beaten cunt, placing one swoll leg onto the mattress as he spilled his gooey cream onto your face. he aimed for your mouth, but his load was so full it splattered your eyes and nose, dripping down your neck as he panted above you. yuji panted, head thrown back in an overload of pleasure. half dead, you lapped up the salty reminisce of him that you could- yuji staring you down in reverence. “holy shit,” he wheezed, “you’re- that was, wow, incredible. thank you baby, you’re so so good for me.”

a weak giggle escaped you, “you’re not so bad yourself baby..” yuji collapsed next to you, pulling you closer despite the cum, sweat, and slick covering each others bodies. “i hope nobody heard…” you said in embarrassment. megumi’s voice erupted from the walls-

With so little to do as a concubine, you find yourself growing tired of the four walls that make up your quarters. It’s the same across the rest of the concubines, but they busy themselves with gossip and activities you don’t wish to take part in, too difficult to make out what they’re saying with everyone speaking over one another. 

In such a large group, you often find yourself feeling alienated. The other concubines aren’t cruel by any means, but they don’t seem to pay any mind to your needs. You don’t hold it against them, despite the loneliness you find clinging to your heart. It’s difficult to convey what exactly it is that you need when every day is different.

It comes and goes, the ringing in your ears. Some days it’s dull and you find yourself easily distracted by the chatter of servants and other girls. Other days it’s piercing and headaches come easily, along with that sinking feeling of being terribly alone. Despite your explanations, few make any effort to speak slower, louder, or allow you to read their lips.

It’s not something they do purposefully, but it makes the days where the ringing is loud seem to drone on longer than ever.

So, you find yourself frequenting the kitchen.

You don’t bother the servants throughout busy meals, but they allow you to come and go as you please during downtimes. Uraume doesn’t seem bothered by it either, as your food never goes to waste.

Though you find yourself avoiding a majority of the meat- you had the horrific pleasure of figuring out what it was one late night- you’re able to make yourself some nice meals otherwise. You know you don’t have to, but you’d never grown up under the impression you would be treated to meals by servants at any point, certainly not as your hearing began to fade and the shrill screeching increased. You had always assumed your mother’s teachings would go to use as a servant yourself.

So, you chose to use those skills for yourself.

Grilled vegetables and fish, rice and some sort of wild fowl, elk soup- it varies by the day, but you’d grown fond of your afternoons within the kitchen, long after lunch service is over.

It doesn’t matter how loud or piercing the noise in your ears gets, you can drown it out by busying yourself. Unfortunately, it’s for that very reason that you aren’t privy to the approaching footsteps, nor the way they pause at the doorway.

“Woman.”

You do hear that. His deep baritone voice causes you to jolt and drop your wooden spoon. You spin to face him as it clatters to the floor, standing with your spine ram-rod straight as your lord’s eyes narrow.

That four-eyed gaze, careful and concise, rises from the spoon, quietly observing your garments as if confirming his evaluation of you. “Are you not a concubine?”

Your throat runs dry as you read his lips. “Yes, My Lord, I am.”

“Are you unsatisfied with the servants’ food?” He narrows his eyes as his chest slowly rises and falls. As far as you can tell, there’s no bite behind his words.

“No, My Lord. I simply enjoy cooking.”

He shifts, standing straighter as his gaze flicks across the dishes you’ve amassed in making your current meal. Eventually, he steps through the threshold, making his way closer as he observes what ingredients have been used, the smell of elk and bone broth luring him closer.

Despite the way that he dwarfs you, he doesn’t seem quite as imposing this way. His expression is stoic, completely neutral as his chest rises and falls evenly.

“Would you like to try some?” You offer, having just taken the soup off the fire mere moments ago.

Those crimson eyes that strike fear to the very core of many fixate on you for a moment. “Very well.”

You pull a bowl from a shelf above, grabbing a ladle to spoon a portion of broth into the dish. “It’s hot,” you warn.

The king casts you a glance, unreadable as he holds the bowl within one hand. He brings it to his nose, smelling the broth before taking a sip. Contemplating for a moment, you find yourself holding your breath in the silence, staring at him as you curiously await his review.

Surely he wouldn’t kill you if it was bad.

Right?

His eyes slide from the dish to you, letting out a grunt somewhere between surprise and satisfaction. Within the silence of the kitchen, you can easily make out the approval in his tone as he states, “you are quite the chef, concubine.”

Your eyes come alight with his approval. “Thank you, My Lord.”

“You may carry on,” he brushes you off, bringing the soup along with him as he turns to make his way back out the door. “Do not let the food go to waste,” is his final request, thrown over his shoulder just loud enough to make out. His satisfaction makes the day’s noise seem just a bit quieter.

–

Following that day, you don’t find his presence quite so scary. You’ve beared witness to his anger on bad days, but the most you ever receive, whether caught in the kitchen, or passing him in a hall, is a glance. You can’t discern exactly what his thoughts are on you, but your presence doesn’t seem to irk him quite like some of the other concubines.

That’s something you come to realize on another particularly bad day.

Whether it’s a worse day for you or Sukuna, you can’t be sure.

You’re rarely all summoned at once, let alone even one of you, however theft has been rampant at the estate lately. It would seem for all of the blood spilled across the last few days for this very reason, Sukuna still finds himself unsatisfied with the results. One of the concubines had been kind enough to relay this information to you before you all found yourself bowing before his imposing figure.

This is the first time you’ve found yourself to be a witness to his rage. The tension within his jaw alone could snap necks, you don’t want to know what he could do with the two pairs of burly arms crossed over his broad chest. His robes have been discarded in favor of only a pair of garments covering his lower half. His chest is bare, and you have half a mind to think it’s only to strike fear into the lot of you, given his sheer size.

Any other day, you may have gawked at his impressive display of muscle and tattoos. Today, you follow suit with the other servants and keep your head low.

“Do one of you have an eye for my belongings?” The king snarls. You don’t need to read lips to hear his bellows, his anger ripping straight through the piercing drone.

You remain calm, having no interest in whatever valuables the curse is going on about. You have a feeling he doesn’t much care for the riches within the estate either, it’s simply the principle of it all.

With no reply apart from a couple of whimpers from other concubines, Sukuna takes a step forward, imposingly leaning over the group of concubines. “Shall I ask each of you individually?” he hisses, fire behind his glare that’s unlike that you’ve seen in even the warlords who reside in your village.

He’s unlike any man you’ve ever known.

Uraume stands a short distance away, observing quietly, though they rarely weigh in. You’ve spoken to them on occasion when they had caught you in the kitchen, though much like Sukuna, they allowed you to carry on.

Each concubine quakes when Sukuna paces from side to side, save for you. This life was not unkind to you, given the way your worth had been treated within the village. You don’t fear Sukuna’s rage, for he’s only ever shown you that you aren’t unworthy of fair treatment.

He pauses his pacing directly in front of you, his feet visible from where your gaze remains evenly on the ground.

“Little chef, do you have any insight?” He murmurs in a searing hiss, quiet.

Too quiet.

Oblivious to his words, it all blends into that drone within your mind.

Your lack of reply displeases him. “Concubine,” he snarls, finally drawing your attention. You blink, raising your head. Wide-eyed, you find yourself barely a breadth from the two-faced curse.

And this time, that rage is directed at you. “My Lord?” You quietly reply, uncertain as to what you’ve missed.

“Do you dare not to reply?” He hisses, low. Too low, with too little movement given his snarl. You can’t make his words out.

Your lips open and close as you try to make sense of what you’ve missed, but the words die in your throat as suddenly you’re faced with a fear you had stopped harboring for Sukuna. It chokes you, unable to admit that you’re hard of hearing. The concubines at your side don’t care to risk their lives for you.

Sukuna, unimpressed, stands straight with narrowed eyes. “I expected more of you,” he snarls, his lip curled in disappointment.

“My Lord, I can’t-” you shake your head, peering to either side for help as you’re unable to make his words out again.

It’s at this point that you lock eyes with Uraume, who’s had a revelation cross over them at your strange behavior and the way you carry yourself. “Lord Sukuna, if I may,” they interrupt.

Sukuna’s head whips towards them, the fire in his gaze undying.

“Are you unable to hear?” Uraume queries as they approach you, a curious lilt to their tone. They’re careful to clearly enunciate and keep their tone louder.

“I’m able to hear only when it’s quiet and with louder voices,” you explain, keeping your gaze on Uraume. “I can make out words through watching lips otherwise.”

The curl to Sukuna’s lip slowly lowers as the revelation dampens his rage (towards you, anyway). As you turn your attention from Uraume to face Sukuna once more, you find yourself relieved to see that unreadable expression spread across his features once more. The one that makes you think that he doesn’t mind your presence, even if his eyes narrow in contemplation for a moment.

His tone evens as he addresses you next, loud and with eye contact. “Do you believe any of your fellow concubines to be a thief?” He queries, that piercing gaze now carefully following the way your gaze lowers to read his lips while you listen, as he comes to understand what it is exactly that sets you apart from the rest of the estate.

Unafraid of the king as his wrath is quelled, you glance at the women to either side of you. “No, My Lord.”

“Very well. Consider yourselves grateful,” he growls as he turns, whatever rage he’d had no longer of interest to him.

Why your word was worth so much to him, you can’t be sure. Still, you’re careful to shoot a thankful nod in Uraume’s direction.

–

You run into him more often following that encounter. He’s a man of few words, but somehow it makes him easier to be around.

He doesn’t pay much mind to you one way or the other, but the little things add up.

Passing him in the hallway, you aren’t oblivious to the way that he lets you meet his gaze where others cower.

He even seems unbothered when he finds you picking herbs from his garden. They aren’t intended for your use, and by all accounts could be considered theft, but if he finds it to be such a thing, he doesn’t speak his mind.

In fact, it’s that same night that he finds himself drawn to the kitchen by the smell of seasoned and grilled wild fowl, caught fresh earlier that morning. It’s long past the time that you’re intended to be asleep, but even the guards don’t bother themselves with you anymore. They get food out of it, who are they to complain?

These days, you have more free reign than most of the employ of the King of Curses, but you’ve never considered it to be special treatment.

Maybe you should, in reality.

You don’t hear him approaching, lured to the smell wafting from within the kitchen.

Caught up within the clanking of dishes and crackling of the fire, you aren’t privy to his footsteps. He’s not a quiet man in his movements, but he is a man of few words, and once again he catches you off-guard.

“What are you cooking so late, little chef?” He inquires, his voice loud enough to gather your attention. You shriek in surprise as your spoon is once again sent flying, clattering across the ground.

With one hand on your chest, you tear your gaze from the spoon to face Sukuna. If it were anyone else, you might have chastised them for sneaking up on you, but you don’t dare around the king. “Apologies, My Lord. I didn’t hear you,” you bow your head slightly, though when you meet his gaze, the amusement held within those usually piercing irises tells you he may have done it on purpose.

Asshole.

Something of a smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he turns his attention to the meal atop a fire. “Wild fowl, correct?” He speaks up.

You nod. “With rice. I used herbs from the garden, I hope you don’t mind.”

He doesn’t grace you with a reply, even as a pair of eyes flicker away from the dish, towards you. You don’t take it personally, he’s never been all that talkative.

“It’s not quite done. Would you like some once it’s finished?”

He nods. “I would.”

You offer a small smile, picking the wooden spoon up off the floor before grabbing a new, clean one to continue cooking the fowl.

“Why do you cook so late into the night, concubine?” He speaks in an even tone, one that breathes curiosity over disdain, close to your ear.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Is that so?” He hums, pondering your revelation. “Are your quarters unsatisfactory?”

You turn to face him with intrigue, continuing to grill the wild bird. “Not at all. Some days are simply worse than others.”

Having piqued his curiosity, you’re surprised when he inquires about you beyond surface-level questions. “How so?”

“I hear ringing. Some days it’s louder than others,” you explain, “but it’s the worst at night, when there are no other sounds. Sometimes I’m unable to drown it out.”

He hums, though you miss the sound, as he straightens. “Is there a remedy?”

You offer a smile, appreciative of the strange kindness he bears. Turning back to the nearly-finished meal, you put out the fire and begin plating the meals. “No, My Lord. There isn’t.”

He takes the portion of food you offer him, smaller than the previous one given that no one else is awake aside from the occasional guard. Hell, you hadn’t expected Sukuna to be awake either.

As he tries the dish, his brow raises only slightly, a warm gleam within his eye that just barely gives away his satisfaction.

You find yourself smiling before you can help it, finding comfort within the shared meal.

He quickly finishes his portion, setting the dish aside as he stands over you. “Had you the option, is there another outlet you might seek over cooking?” He inquires.

“Do you not like the dish?” Your head tilts, but there’s a lilt to your tone that suggests teasing, testing the boundaries of what the king is willing to put up with.

His eyes narrow, and although you don’t hear it, you see the way his chest rises and falls in one heavy motion, a huff. Mild irritation at worst, toleration of your teasing at best. He doesn’t bother dignifying you with a reply, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

You clear your throat. “I used to like reading, if I couldn’t sleep.”

“Do you not enjoy it any longer?”

“I do! I’ve read everything we have, however.”

His brow twitches as he considers your words. He nods finally, blinking slowly. “Very well. You may carry on.”

You’re not sure why that seems to be his chosen words of departure every time he leaves the kitchen, but it’s not the last time you hear it, either.

–

Once or twice a week, he visits. You never know when to expect him, though your own times within the kitchen are equally erratic. Each time, he startles you. By now you know it’s definitely on purpose when you catch a smug smirk on his lips, and find yourself looking over your shoulder every so often.

For that reason, you notice him several weeks later before he can catch you by surprise.

“Keen senses, little chef.”

“Just luck,” you smile in greeting like he isn’t a monster with a low tolerance for others, continuing to stir another bone broth.

“I rather enjoy startling you.”

“I’m sure you do, My Lord,” you agree.

He hums, something of a pleased noise, although it escapes you. His silence brings with it a strange sense of comfort that you can only find within a man like him. Those watchful eyes, ever-observant, don’t breathe of safety like that of a friend, but your strange connection to the man does mirror somewhat of a camaraderie.

He no longer questions when the food will be ready, and you no longer ask if he wants a portion.

He stands over you, never imposing nor in the way, moving when you turn to grab a utensil and retaking his position when you begin ladling it into two bowls.

He rarely even asks what you’re cooking anymore, simply enjoying the taste and allowing you to tell him, should you choose. If you don’t dignify him with an explanation, he’s fine to enjoy the small pleasure.

There’s a small clank as he sets his bowl down, and you expect him to leave without a word. To your surprise, he fixes you with a calculating stare.

“My Lord?”

“You have read everything within the library provided?” He queries out of the blue, his tone deep although he speaks loud.

Your lips purse, blinking. “I have.”

A pair of crimson irises takes in the state of your bowl, nearly finished, scanning the kitchen briefly. Once satisfied with whatever it is he finds, he raises one of his many strong biceps, his robes draping from them as he whisks you away from the kitchen with a hand placed on your lower back.

He’s surprisingly gentle, given what you know of him. Hell, you’ve seen him tear head from body with the simple flick of a wrist for the smallest of errors. You’ve always chalked his kindness towards you up to a good meal and a little bit of luck, but it would seem at some point you earned his favor, too.

He leads you down long winding hallways, long past the point where the rest of the concubines are allowed. Your steps falter when you reach the barrier in which Sukuna scarcely allows people, but his large and steady hand remains in place as he pushes you along.

You’re allowed to peer up at him rather than bow, another perk of having his favor. He dwarfs you in every manner of the word. The markings that trail along his jaw serve to accentuate just how broad and sharp his edges are, equally so to his personality, though you rarely see that side of him.

Coming to a halt at a door down a corridor you don’t recognize, you await his guidance as he pulls a key from within his robe, unlocking the grand door. Pushing it open, he awaits your movement as he holds the heavy door well above your head. You don’t even need to duck to walk under his arm, entering the dimly-lit room. You don’t make it far inside, unable to make out much of anything in the darkness.

Sukuna confidently moves past you, waving a hand over a candle. Your eyes light up with intrigue as it sputters to fiery life suddenly, unaware that the king had any influence over fire. With your path lit just enough to ensure you don’t bump into anything, you trail after him, awaiting any sort of instruction.

Reaching his destination, Sukuna waves a hand once more over a larger bundle of candles and a candelabra, which bring the room into a greater light. As you’re able to take in the room, Sukuna watches with quiet intrigue.

Books surround you on every side, rising far beyond your height into the ceiling. A small window overlooks a garden you’ve never seen with a cushion at its base, while a much larger chair- the perfect size for Sukuna, one might think- sits at the base of a ladder intended to reach the higher annexes. The room has a homely smell to it, one of old paper and melted wax that doesn’t resemble the rest of the estate.

Bringing your gaze back down to meet Sukuna’s, you’re perplexed as to why he’s brought you here.

You’re no fool, you know he’s allowing you access to more books. You know you share something of a connection to him, whether he simply puts up with you or enjoys your presence more than he lets on, but this goes beyond that. Why is he extending so much kindness to you?

He takes a step forward, satisfied with your exploration and silent question. Holding out one hand, he awaits your own, dropping a key into your palm. “You may make use of this area when you are unable to rest.”

Your thumb brushes the length of the brass key, deftly wrapping your fingers around the peripheral. “Thank you, My Lord,” you breathe, turning to take in the sights again as your attention settles on the large chair. “Is this your personal library?”

“It is.”

You can’t help the wonder within your expression at what seems to be every book anyone could ever need, all held within the walls of a library that you’ve been given what you assume to be exclusive access to. Words are beyond you as you slowly approach the wall, your finger brushing the spines of old woven books and fresh prints alike, as though Sukuna keeps an eye out for what might interest him.

“Have you gotten sick of my cooking?” You tease as your fingers brush along the spine of a poetry book, peering back over your shoulder at him.

The king’s eyes narrow at your jest, lips pressed into a thin line as he doesn’t grace you with a reply.

Your smile widens at his disdain for your teasing, as you thank him once more. “Thank you, Lord Sukuna.”

It’s the first time you’ve addressed him as such. As you turn back to the wall, slipping a poetry book from a shelf to flip through, Sukuna finds himself growing fond of the sound coming from your lips.

–

In the weeks that follow, Sukuna never truly knows where he’ll find you. More often than not, it’s tucked into the nook of his personal library, overlooking the garden designated only for him and a couple of servants he tolerates. As weeks turn to months, he finds you in the kitchen on occasion as well.

There’s quiet camaraderie held within the curse’s movement throughout the estate. There are weeks where he’s gone, while those where he’s within the walls of the large property, it’s said that he can be heard bellowing orders.

You never see that side of him..

Sukuna can’t be sure what always seems to lead him through the halls late at night, but if he isn’t drawn to the alluring smell of whatever concoction you have on the fire, his feet still seem to subconsciously carry him to the library.

You always perk up at the sight of the monstrous man, even on the days where he manages to catch you off-guard.

He’s never had the pleasure of seeing another’s eyes light up at the sight of him.

Perhaps he enjoys that about you.

Sometimes, he even finds himself indulging in reading alongside you. He’ll splay out on his own chair as neither of you pay any mind to one another. An unspoken agreement hangs in the balance between you, though on occasion you both find ways to break that agreement.

Your brow twitches. Minute, but not unnoticed.

“Is that book not to your satisfaction?”

Surprised to find him breaking the unspoken agreement, you let the book rest on your lap, blinking at him. “No, that’s not it, My Lord.” You don’t know the way his chest burns as he longs for you to address him by Lord Sukuna once more. “I’m simply contemplating the meaning behind the words.”

His gaze carefully trails to the book in your lap. Slowly, he reclines further as one of his elbows rests on the arm of the chair, if it could even be deemed as a chair, rather than a throne. He rests his jaw on his fist, lazily regarding you. “Indulge me,” he waves another hand, a strange air of relaxation to the king like a cat in the sun.

And so you do. You find that Sukuna can be rather insightful, surprised to come across the fact that he’s actually already read through the entire library, each one held within the walls of this room merely out of the fact that he enjoyed it. Over the months, you even find books that you don’t recognize from before, as though he’s adding to his otherwise dusty collection.

Your conversations pull a smirk from him more often than you care to think about. You chalk it up to that same camaraderie, but as night after night you find yourself engaged in discussion with Sukuna, there’s warmth to be found within the sanctuary he offers only to you.

Although a curse now, Sukuna was once a man. He claims to see humanity as a sign of weakness and if you dare ask, he would proclaim that to the world. But he’s no fool. It’s been months now since he’s shifted his sleep schedule to revolve around these quiet meetings, regardless of whether he’s met with a late night snack or quiet literary discussion.

He may not be entirely familiar with the feelings it stirs within him, but he’s learned to navigate the unfamiliar on his own over the years.

Even if it frustrates him to no end that his mind and body seem to seek you out before he has the sense to reconsider.

Slowly, as the months pass and the phases of the moon greet you from the window each night like a dear friend, he begins to notice your chatter dying. You don’t look up as often from your book when he sighs, and your eyes rarely stray from the page at the sound of him shifting in his seat. The orders of guards well outside the walls that surround you are lost on you, too.

When he approaches you in the kitchen, you’re no longer amused as he startles you, but instead seem frustrated. Your disdain seems directed towards yourself, however, rather than him, and you soften when he finds his usual place beside you.

Some part of him understands that it’s getting worse. That you strain more and more to put pieces of sentences together, even when reading lips.

So, just as he had on the day that he discovered your disability, he adapts.

You don’t know it, but he stomps into the kitchen when you’re cooking. You assume he’s just heavy on his feet, or that maybe you’ve grown better at sensing the vibrations now that your focus falls into your other senses.

He’ll never tell you he’s simply stomping about and bothering the rest of the staff all for your convenience.

But it’s only the first of the changes he makes.

Setting your brass key atop a small table, you shut the door behind you within the library. It’s dark as usual, but you’ve come to know where the sulfur matches await you. You softly sigh as you take the wax stick of the first candle and use it to begin lighting the rest until the room has a soft glow to it.

It’s darker than usual for summer, but your ability to sleep has gotten worse over the months. You know those around you can tell, between the fact that you miss breakfast and you’re often found wandering the halls at odd times of the night. No one dares to question you, not when Sukuna himself lets you be. Done staring wistfully out the window, you go to take your usual spot when you realize the layout of the room has changed.

Sukuna’s chair has disappeared, while the spot where you usually curl up has grown in size, more cushions precisely placed by the windows, many of a larger size. You curiously peer at them, wanting to brush it off as Sukuna being done with his time with you and granting you a larger space for yourself...

But that would be a foolish assumption, when the cushion across from you is so clearly Sukuna-sized.

Your suspicions would be confirmed when you feel the rumble of heavy steps as he approaches the library. Your gaze is already on him when he opens the door, clad in his usual white robes. He doesn’t seem particularly alarmed, let alone bothered, by the fact that his chair has been removed, leading you to believe that it was him, after all.

He takes his time choosing a book, before sitting directly across from you. His mass takes up a large space of your cushioned nook as he leans back against the shelf behind him. Bathed by soft candlelight, his expression seems calmer than usual as he gradually relaxes into the spot, his large limbs tossed haphazardly across the floor at his sides. You smile, returning to your book.

Maybe he just needs the companionship you offer more than you realized.

That’s what you assume, until-

“Do you not sleep anymore, little chef?”

With a hand holding the careful binding of your book open, you sit straighter, blinking as you realize he’s figured you out. The lack of sleep and the worsening of your fifth sense. He’s moved closer so that you can hear him better.

Sukuna is a particularly tough man to read. He constantly wears a neutral, if not disinterested, expression and doesn’t often have much to say, so the fluttering within your chest feels forbidden. You’re a concubine, and you’ll admit you have privilege where others don’t, and yet… he’s never shown an interest in any of his concubines. You have no reason to see yourself as anything beyond another inhabitant between the walls of the estate who bows to the king.

The butterflies in your stomach don’t seem to agree, though.

“I hear ringing,” you begin, “it’s gotten louder recently and makes it harder to hear anything else.”

He grunts, something you piece together only through the way his adam’s apple bobs.

Those are the only words he speaks to you that night. It’s some of the very few he shares with you at all, these days. Your conversations always remained formal, but they still came easily, once upon a time. Now, silence surrounds you.

Yet, the ringing reminds you that you don’t know true silence.

It’s funny; how you long for both true silence and the noise that comes with being able to hear all at once. Instead, you’re granted neither, dulling your sense further and the world with it.

Sukuna can see it killing your spirit.

Simply moving closer, speaking louder, walking with more intent; it isn’t enough.

So he’ll take it a step further.

–

When Uraume’s knock outside your door is met with silence, they quietly enter your quarters, figuring you haven’t heard them. “I apologize for the intrusion,” they loudly proclaim, but there’s not a single sound to greet them. Scanning the room, they return to Sukuna to inform him.

He straightens, scowling as he makes his way to the kitchen, first. He supposes given your sleep schedule that it’s not an unreasonable time to have a meal, but preparations for dinner are already underway and you’re nowhere to be found.

As a couple of wide-eyed servants cower at the sight of Sukuna, he turns on his heels and makes his way to the only other place he can think of to find you. 

He supposes maybe he should have started here. With light flooding in through the window above, you resemble a cat basking in the sun, curled up around whatever you were reading last night, still asleep mid-afternoon.

The curse frowns to himself as he stands over your sleeping form. He wonders how often you sleep here, rather than your own quarters, though he’s never caught you until now.

He contemplates leaving you be, though the way that you’re curled up doesn’t look particularly comfortable and it’s mid-afternoon. He huffs, scowling at you as he lowers himself to a seated position, resting an upper hand on your shoulder. He lightly shakes you, rousing you from your sleepy state.

“Lord Sukuna?” You murmur groggily, your hair and clothes disheveled as you sit upright.

“I sent Uraume for you. You weren’t in your quarters,” he spares no time explaining, still scowling. There’s a twitch in his steady composure when you call him Sukuna, that you can’t quite discern.

Whether he’s upset with you or just wearing that expression, you aren’t certain. Like you said before, he’s a tough guy to read. “Apologies, My Lord. I suppose time got away from me.”

“Simply because you have a key does not mean I will allow you to rest within these walls,” he loudly grumbles, his tone strained as he struggles to balance his frustration with something akin to… concern?

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you shift to sit on your knees. “It won’t happen again, My Lord.”

He scoffs, if the way he exhales dramatically is anything to go off of. “What led to this?”

Raising an arm to block the sun that cascades through the window, you squint out at the garden. “Is it midday?”

Sukuna doesn’t reply, awaiting your response to his question first as he continues to scowl at you.

“I…” you trail off, but there’s no reasonable answer to it. You’d just gotten carried away in what you were reading, and you suppose by the time the sun came out and the bustling of the estate drowned out a modicum of the ringing, you just… passed out. “I suppose my late nights caught up to me,” you excuse yourself with a sheepish smile.

You’re sure he huffs based on the way his chest rises and falls in one quick motion.

Getting to your feet, you brush your robes off as your muscles adjust to the waking world. Sukuna follows suit, standing over you with that same knit in his brow that a part of you longs to smooth. Perhaps too bold for someone in your position.

“You sent Uraume for me, My Lord?”

Pulling Sukuna from his glowering stupor, he nods, ensuring he’s visible when he says, “come.”

A hand from his lower pair of arms settles on the small of your back as he leads you past guards that don’t even take a breath as Sukuna turns down a long corridor. You peer through the threshold of a room towards the end of the hall, lips pursing at the realization that you’ve reached his chambers.

As far as you’re aware, no one besides Uraume and the occasional servant have ever so much as witnessed these halls and lived to tell the tale. You have half a mind to think he could kill you for just being here, and yet… the way his hand has settled on your back, maybe not.

A few steps further, Sukuna opens a door towards the end of the hall, one in which some sort of white noise drones from, one that drowns that constant ringing, just a bit. It’s a large room with a bed in the center and a door out to what you assume must be Sukuna’s private gardens. The white noise comes from an indoor waterfall installation, water cascading over an artificial bamboo precipice that loudly trickles into a pool below.

You don’t want to make assumptions, certainly not one that places your personal quarters beside Sukuna’s, but…

What other assumption is there to make?

At a loss for words, you wrap your arms around yourself. “My Lord, is this…?” You can’t even bring yourself to say it. The mere suggestion feels like blasphemy on your tongue.

His hand leaves the small of your back, replaced with one on your shoulder as he takes a step closer when you barely enter the threshold of the room. His body heat radiates against your back, his chest brushing the back of your head when you lift your gaze to peer up at him.

Certain that you’ll be able to read his lips if necessary, he replies in a low tone. “You will sleep here from now on. Uraume will move your belongings. The guards will not stop you.”

You blink up at him, glancing back at his bulky chest as heat rises from the back of your neck to the apples of your cheeks. “Thank you, Lord Sukuna,” you breathe, unable to convey the sense of relief it is to have something to drown out the ringing.

He straightens, a gleam of pride held within those ever-fiery irises. When you turn to face the fountain once more, a giddy smile overtaking your features, Sukuna glides a thick finger along your jaw, pulling your attention back to him. “I will not catch you asleep in the library, do you understand?”

Your eyes widen at the close proximity of his form as he leans close to you, his gaze piercing yours. It pulls the air straight from your lungs as his presence wraps around you, bathing you in his very essence. Your gaze flickers wildly across his face, lingering on his lips, much to his amusement.

“Do you understand?” He repeats himself, a lilt of mirth caught in the air between you.

You nod, unwilling to trust your voice as the very King of Curses that everyone fears gives to you a portion of his soul.

“Good,” he purrs, standing upright. He drops his hand from your chin, stepping back to head back to his daily duties. He pauses before he leaves. “Get some rest,” he instructs. “I would like to request a salmon dish when you are well.”

You have to press your lips into a thin line in order to prevent your smile from breaking through.

–

By some sort of miracle (or maybe the kindness of the man normally seen as a monster), sleep no longer evades you. Throughout the week, your time in the library adjusts to an earlier schedule, and with Sukuna sitting alongside you, it becomes easier to communicate again.

There’s a saccharine affability to Sukuna’s ability to flip on a dime from the rough ruler of the estate, barking orders and noting incompetencies, to the man who sits across from you and shares his favorite literature. You keep your promise not to fall asleep in the library again and even serve him the salmon dish he requested and in return, you find more and more robes and jewelry of increasing quality popping up in your quarters.

It’s overwhelming in a sense, even more so as the other concubines alienate you more and more. At times, you’re grateful you can’t hear their mutterings, but the green gazes that are shot your way are an adjustment.

Still, you keep your head up and continue wandering the halls day after day, busying yourself with whatever piques your interest from moment to moment.

Passing by the throne room, Sukuna’s voice bellows loud enough that you pause at the entrance, casting a glance in his direction. Although you didn’t catch what he said, you’re surprised to find his gaze trained solely on you, his eyes traveling the length of the new robes you wear, a stunning white with vibrant red stitching.

You cock your head questioningly, leading Sukuna to beckon you over with two fingers.

Only once have you ever been a witness to the king’s throne room. He sits atop a massive cushioned seat, one that positively screams of power and strength, at the end of the room, with Uraume and a pair of guards near the doors. Before him, a woman trembles on her knees, an offering laid out in front of her on a cloth.

In spite of the room’s size, with high ceilings and intricate ornaments decorating the edges, the room is stifling.

At least- that’s how it felt when you stood where the woman now is. When you were an offering. You had heard the stories of the warlord with two faces, but the grandeur of his presence felt understated within the lines of texts about him.

Now, standing with your head bowed at Sukuna’s side, the air no longer seems to close in around you. It may not be customary within the library, but you don’t dare act out of line within his own kingly chamber.

His robes rustle as he reaches a hand out to brush your elbow, gathering your attention without a word. “Lift your head,” he instructs, beckoning you closer with two fingers once more, before adjusting his position to leave room for you.

On his lap.

Your cheeks warm, but you find comfort tucked between two bulky biceps and his peck. With your legs thrown over Sukuna’s legs and one forearm lazily settling atop your thigh, you find it easy to get comfortable.

He lowers his head to your level, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks. “Does their offering satisfy you, my little chef?” With your body pressed into his, you can feel the deep vibrations that his voice carries, the sensation making understanding come easier.

You straighten slightly as he calls you his, blinking off the surprise as you stare down at the necklace before the woman. The gold has dulled, but polish will bring the shine back out. “It’s gorgeous,” you comment, curious as to what she’s requesting.

Sukuna eyes you on his lap for a moment, straightening to face the trembling woman. “Very well. I accept your offering.” He lazily waves a hand through the air. “Uraume.”

His most trusted ally steps forward, lifting the cloth and jewelry and setting it aside with other accepted offerings. As you look over the assortment, it seems to range from rare foods and herbs to books and tools with expert craftsmanship.

“Your farm will remain in my territory under my protection, however-” His tone darkens, something you aren’t used to with him. “Should your husband choose to defy me again, an offering of this type will not suffice.”

“Yes, My Lord,” the woman trembles, not daring to look up at him.

“Leave,” he growls dismissively, reclining as he leans his jaw on a fist.

With a simple flick of the king’s wrist, Uraume is bringing in another group. A man, a woman, and who you can only assume is their daughter, a gorgeous woman around your age who clings to her mother whose head is ducked in shame.

“Lord Sukuna,” the man bows, though brimming with confidence unlike the last woman. “In exchange for the protection of my village, I offer my first-born as a concubine.”

You can’t make out a majority of his lowly spoken words from where you sit, but you don’t need to given the context. You’ve been in the very position of the woman who seems to be silently begging her parents not to sell her off as a bargaining chip. Your stomach churns, something between disdain for the man, and something far greener at the prospect of Sukuna accepting a concubine when now is certainly not the time.

While you may not have heard the man’s full statement, you do feel Sukuna’s huff. “Oh?” Sukuna leans forward at your side, his head beside yours with a much darker expression than you’re accustomed to.

The man’s confidence wavers, but he puffs out his chest, proceeding to list the tasks his daughter excels at. You have half a mind to question if she’s being offered as a concubine or a servant, or whether her father simply doesn’t care.

A chill runs coolly up your spine, uneasiness prickling at the back of your neck. As the man drones on, Sukuna turns his attention to you, stiff within his grasp. He quietly observes your scowl, using one gentle finger to turn your head to look at him. “Is your uneasiness due to my duties, or the offering?”

You purse your lips, casting a sidelong glance at the offering in question. “The offering.”

“I see.”

“Why do you take concubines, if you don’t spend time with any of them- us-” you correct yourself, “- My Lord?”

Sukuna’s chest rumbles dangerously behind you. “Are you jealous, little concubine?”

Your mouth opens, closes, and opens again before you steel yourself. “No,” you murmur.

“No?” He parrots, amused. “Then to what do I owe your envious questioning?”

You hesitate again, struggling to come up with anything reasonable as a reply. There’s no way out of his question that doesn’t show the true color of your inquiry.

Sukuna laughs lowly under you again, lowering his head to your ear. “Let me ask you something,” he begins, his eyes trained viciously on the man ahead of him. “Had I not taken you, where would you be now?”

Your brow furrows as you consider his question. “I don’t know,” you admit.

“Your lives are nothing more than bargaining chips to these warlords and wretches. Were you not my concubines, you would be another’s, or perhaps a servant, and not of your own accord, correct?”

“You’re… sparing us?” You query, turning your head incredulously to face him. As much as you’ve grown to earn his favor and even learned to admire the king in response to his kindness, you’ve never known him to be benevolent. You’ve turned your head up at the screams of those damned by Sukuna, and you’ve seen his rage over something that’s purely principle. You know what meat lies within the kitchen every night. So… “Why?”

Sukuna shifts beneath you, his arm wrapping around your waist with possessive intent. “I am not fond of humanity, nor their intentions,” he explains close to your ear, his voice in a near-growl. “However, I am less fond of the idea that some deem their own spawn to be lowered to nothing more than a gift.”

You blink, peering up at his sharp jawline.

“I have no interest in those who don’t come to me of their own volition,” he dismisses your question. “You are all free to live here, so long as you stay out of my business,” he gruffs.

“The concubines are free to leave?”

He hums, felt under the weight of his arm. “That is correct.”

You blink, having never considered leaving, as if there’s some unspoken rule that you quietly and quickly internalized. “What about the servants?”

His gaze flickers down to you, otherwise unmoving. “They willingly offered their own services in exchange for one thing or another.”

You nod in understanding, turning your attention to the man who holds his daughter’s wrist firmly, shuffling under Sukuna’s harsh stare. He hunches forward, a dark grin lifting his lips as he finally has a response for the sleazy man.

“Do I appear to be in need of any concubines?” He challenges, low and slow, almost serpentine in the way he oozes condescension and disdain.

The man’s gaze shifts to you, his brow quirking. “There is value in more than one concubine.”

Something between a grunt and a growl rumbles deep within Sukuna’s chest, predatory in the way he regards the man like a small animal. The curse looks at him like something meant to join the ranks of the kitchen- and not in the way you often do.

“There is value,” Sukuna hisses, “in keeping your mouth shut.” You can feel the rage burning from the surface of his skin, searing in the spot where his arm remains firmly around your waist. “Uraume.”

This isn’t Uraume’s first brush with this situation. The white-haired curse-user moves gracefully through the room, not a shred of evidence as to what they’re thinking written within the creases of their neutrality. They lead the new concubine past the guards and into the depths of the estate, the entire scenario reminding you far too much of your arrival here.

Sukuna’s gaze follows, and once he’s certain they’re out of earshot, he faces the concubine’s parents once more. His eyes slide from one parent to the other, reading the mother’s fear, and the father’s pride.

He raises a hand, and without a word, the sleazy man sputters, blood spurting from his mouth, before his body slumps to the floor, dismembered from his head. You go rigid at the sight, your breaths coming faster at the suddenness with which the man is no longer a thought for Sukuna. He shifts his attention to the woman, whose hands cover her mouth as she panics, falling to her knees as she begins pleading with Sukuna. Not for her husband’s life or even her own, but her daughter’s.

“Silence,” Sukuna bellows in a snarl. The trembling woman bows her head sharply. “You will bring his head to your village and advise those in charge that I do not desire more humans, lest you wish to sacrifice the meat off their bones,” he growls, eyes narrowed.

“Y-yes, My Lord,” she whimpers. “My daughter, will she-?”

“She may return, should she so choose,” he mutters dismissively, sitting upright as he returns to a lazily seated position, sprawling himself out once more. “Though I have yet to bear witness to a concubine leaving my estate.”

“Of course, M-” She chokes on a fearful sob. “My Lord.” With a final bow, she shakily takes her late husband’s head and retreats in a flurry of limbs and cheap fabrics.

As Sukuna instructs Uraume to grab servants to clean up the mess and bring the man to the kitchen- something you do not want to think too hard about- you chew on your lip. Once the room is clean and the smell of iron has been replaced with that of incense, Sukuna dismisses everyone save for the guards at the door.

Leaning back in his chair, he briefly shuts his eyes, waiting a solid few moments before he lets out a breath, his attention given in full to you. With one arm still firmly holding your waist, he raises another to glide along your jaw, pulling your gaze to him. Crimson irises examine your expression as he lets his thumb slide up to your lips, pressing down on your lower lip and sliding it off.

Deep within your chest, you shudder at the feeling of his calloused skin sliding across yours. His lidded eyes follow the movement of his thumb. “Speak your mind,” he murmurs, shifting his hand to grip your waist with more fervor. There’s curiosity for him in the fact that you seek his touch despite watching him kill someone with a flick of his wrist.

“Why did you kill him?”

His lip curls into a smirk. “I will not be offered meek humans.”

“Is that not what I am?”

“Human, perhaps,” he leans closer, “meek, no.” He purrs. “I would never have caught you in my kitchen without permission, were you meek,” he scoffs, but there’s amusement caught within his tone, woven into the syllables. You aren’t loudly defiant, but a quiet and respectful sort of bold that he enjoys. You don’t fear the king, so you feel no need to seek permission where others do.

It’s that fearlessness and the freedom you feel to challenge him that draws him to you.

You’re strong, not because of what you’ve been through, but in spite of it.

Although heat rises to the tips of your ears, you still question the king. “Did he need to die to prove that point?”

“Does it bother you that I killed him?” Sukuna queries, eyes narrowed as he carefully inspects your expression. Your brows knit, deep in thought as you internalize his question, considering the new revelation that he had likely done the same with your own family.

Does it bother you that he killed that man? That he killed your father, if you had to guess?

Does it bother you that he sent the head of a man who tried to sell you like cattle back to your village?

“No,” you reply with finality, something gleaming within your eyes that makes Sukuna grin, a wild look igniting within his own gaze.

“I expected as much,” he hums, more to himself than you as a simple observation. “I am pleased to find that’s the case.” His hand brushes the apple of your cheek with just the slightest tremor. Not one that suggests he’s scared, for the King of Curses doesn’t feel such a thing, but one that suggests he’s holding back.

You test that theory as your sultry gaze finds his lips.

He inhales a long breath, recognizing your temptation. “I have duties to attend to,” he hums, “I will find you tonight.”

–

After having been dismissed, you wander the halls with more authority than you’re accustomed to. Although you’ve never been stopped before, you don’t usually have heads ducking and bowing to you, either. You wonder what Sukuna mentioned to change such a thing, or whether there’s simply been a shift in the atmosphere that comes with sitting atop the throne.

It’s a strange sensation, but what’s even stranger is coming across Sukuna in the courtyard, discussing something with Uraume, when his newest concubine, the one he just accepted, shyly strolls over, bowing to thank him. He doesn’t seem too interested, waving her off with an unoccupied hand, when she suddenly tugs on the front of his robe and grabs his attention.

Although somewhat irritable when he replies, you watch his attention turn to her again when she places a hand on his abdomen, running it up his chest. Unable to make out what they’re saying, you slip away with a frown, moving through the halls with that same authority that you aren’t quite sure what to do with.

The unheard conversation with the new concubine invades your mind against your will. No matter how much you tell yourself you have no business being jealous, and no reason to be jealous, it would seem the devil on your shoulder whispers otherwise.

For someone with poor hearing, that devil is awfully loud.

As the bustling of the estate begins to die down and the ringing grows louder, you retreat to your room, but your restlessness remains. Moonlight pours through the sheer curtains that face Sukuna’s private garden, and when the guards don’t stop you from entering it, you figure you’ll ask for forgiveness from Sukuna later, should he be bothered that you’re in his garden.

His personal gardens consist of less herbs and more personalized plant choices, each one piquing your curiosity. A small creek runs from the edge of the estate to the outer walls of the garden, protected in the shadows cast by tall hedges that close it in. At the end of the garden is what you assume to be a small hot spring given the region, and a gazebo next to it.

Taking notice of it and enjoying the sounds of the running water that doesn’t make everything seem so quiet, you take a seat at the edge of the gazebo,watching the way water flows from the creek into the edge of the bubbling stone pool.

It almost feels silent. As close to true silence as you may ever feel, relieved from the ringing by the white noise of water.

Yet that damn little devil on your shoulder. You want to swat at it, but there’s no use.

You can’t count how many minutes, maybe even hours, that you sit by the creek, but Sukuna doesn’t look pleased when he finds you.

Your head whips around as the boards beneath you shift, finding a frustrated Sukuna standing with two pairs of crossed arms. He mutters something under his breath that you don’t catch, but your confused expression seems to soften his disdain.

He frowns as he stands above you, speaking in a bellow he’s certain you can hear. “I thought you left the estate.”

“No, My Lord.” But you give him no explanation for disappearing from your two regular spots without a word.

“What has drawn you to my private gardens, then?” He makes a point of emphasizing your defiance.

“Would you like me to leave?” You query, eyes narrowed just enough to tell Sukuna you aren’t afraid of him.

“Speak your mind. I will not tolerate your questions,” he hisses loudly, the wrinkle of his nose suggesting frustration that runs beyond the regular teasing you take part in.

Your brow twitches as you turn your head from him, denying him from knowing if you can hear him. It forces him down to your level so that he guarantees that you do. To your shock, he doesn’t simply command you to give him your attention while you speak, but rather takes a seat behind you, with one leg bent and one knee raised. He rests an arm atop his knee, huffing irritably given that you can’t hear it.

You still face away as you speak. “What did the concubine want?”

It takes a moment for him to reply, loud and even. “She wished for my bed.”

You don’t reply.

He huffs again, his own outlet before he faces your envy. He states your name, successfully pulling your attention to him as your head whips around at the use of your given name. Before you have the chance to process what’s going on, his massive form slides forward as he places one leg on either side of you, pressing your back into his chest as his lower hands roam from your hips up to your waist, settling possessively there. “If I have not made myself clear,” he begins, a low drawl in your ear, “I have no interest in taking new concubines. I have no interest in having any at all.”

As if the ringing wasn’t enough, your heart beats in your ears, your blood running cold at the revelation. Slowly, you lift your head to peer over your shoulder where the king’s gaze looms as he examines your expression.

“I do not share this wing of the estate with just anyone,” he tacks on. “Or had you not noticed the way the guards bow to you, too?”

“I had, I just…”

When you trail off, Sukuna continues. “My favor is not easily earned. I do not wish for the attention of concubines.”

“But you want mine?”

You know he does.

He knows that you know that.

He also knows that you’re playing a little game to get him to admit it.

“I do,” he concedes, pleased with the giddy smile you try to hide. One hand slides from your waist down to the top of your thigh, which he squeezes. “Join me for dinner tomorrow.”

“I won’t eat what you do,” you warn, only half teasing.

“I would expect no such thing. I know your preferences, the kitchen will be made aware.”

“I don’t sleep very well,” you warn again, as though serving him a laundry list of baggage will dispel him.

“I am aware of your tendencies,” he chides, lifting an upper arm to graze your collar, sliding up to rest along the column of your neck. There’s something equally tender about the action as it is possessive, seeping in everything Sukuna embodies to the very core.

“I might not always be able to hear you,” you tack on quietly, your vulnerabilities breathed into the limited air hanging between you.

Sukuna inhales, long and deep, as those crimson eyes take in the way you expose your self-doubt to him.

There’s strength held within the ability to speak to a man like Sukuna about thoughts that plague your mind. His brow knits in that way that you’ve come to recognize, as though he’s truly seeing you. All of you. In a deathly serious tone, he replies, “there is much more to communication than words.” He leans in closer, his lips barely a breadth from your jaw as he spares a moment to allow your mind to mull over his words.

You glance over at him, but find no reason to doubt him. Sukuna isn’t one to beat around the bush or waste time. It’s as he said, he wants to make his intentions clear. After months of spending time with one another, he’s grown more than just fond of you, the connection that you share something much deeper.

As Sukuna patiently awaits for your thoughts to catch up, you find yourself mindlessly stroking the marking on his wrist that’s settled on your waist with your thumb. Slowly, you nod.

“See? No words needed,” he hums, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. When he pulls back, he’s smirking as he feels your pulse increase beneath his palm on your neck. “Cute,” he hums, tilting your head closer to him as he leans in more hungrily this time. His lips move against yours eagerly and for once you feel like you can melt into him. There are no doubts held between you, and no questions unanswered.

It’s not adoration or care that you would use to describe the kiss. It embodies everything that Sukuna is, searing and all-engulfing. To your surprise, Sukuna tastes strongly of tea, the one he often brings with him to the library. Strong, and green. It’s pleasant as his tongue invades your mouth, but what’s more pleasant is the way your core heats up as he squeezes your neck just the slightest bit.

Your tongue dances with his when the action pulls a small gasp from you.

God, is he ever right when he says that there’s more to communication than words. He reads you like a book. He acts on every little twitch and gasp, repeating movements that cause you to react.

No longer satisfied with just kissing, he separates from you with heavy breaths and moves over you, his knees caging you onto the planks of the gazebo. “Let me show you what I can do without words,” he growls, piercing and hungry eyes boring straight into you, like you’re the only thing he can see.

You don’t so much as hesitate as you breathe out, ‘yes,’ taking his face between your palms and pulling him back to your lips. His tongue swipes your lower lip, granted access as the muscle plunges into your mouth. He’s not gentle, in spite of the way he usually acts with you, he’s rough, claiming. While two hands hold him up, the other two dip beneath your robes, exposing your shoulders and breasts to him.

He parts from your lips to drink in your appearance. Unable to hold back, he dips down to plant rough and dominant kisses atop the smooth skin. “Beautiful,” he mutters. He knows you don’t hear it, but the way his voice vibrates against your skin, he knows you get it.

He’s right to assume you understand nonetheless when your breath stutters under the weight of his lips latching to your skin, decorating and painting the landscape in hues of blue and purple.

He pauses at the bow tied delicately at your waist, a silent question searing within his eyes. When you reach down to undo it for him and reveal your skin, his breath is as warm as the fire that burns behind his darkened eyes. You cling to his biceps that hold him over you for purchase as he takes his time exploring the expanse of your skin, lingering on your hips as he nips at one experimentally.

You let out a small yelp, your nails leaving crescents in the dip of the muscle of his forearm. Chasing the way that your reaction makes him feel, he smooths his tongue over the spot he bit, savoring your whimper.

“My dove,” he murmurs as he makes his way down to your thighs. You part them for him, his hungry exhale hot on your soaking core. His upper pair of arms hold your thighs down, pressed into your chest as an unoccupied hand slides down to roughly grope your ass. He may not say a word, but his eyes speak volumes as he soaks in the tantalizing sight before him.

Moving up from your ass, his two middle and ring fingers glide through your folds. The simple motion is enough to send your heart racing, but despite the way the blood roars in your ears and the tinnitus screams, your entire attention is focused on that feeling. You don't need to hear as the world narrows down to just the two of you in the moonlit private garden.

The king brings a hand up to his mouth, licking the pad of his thumb before pressing it into your clit, rubbing firm circles against the sensitive bud. He isn't gentle by any means, but he’s careful. There's meaning behind the way his fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as you squirm under the pleasure he rubs into you.

It’s your shaky exhale that sends him to heaven, though. He grunts, involuntary and with no clue if you've heard it. Unable to wait a moment longer with you laid out beneath him so gorgeously, he splits his gaze, eyeing both your face and your pussy as he buries his tongue within you.

It pulls a gasp from the depths of your chest as you reach out to cling desperately to anything, your fingers catching on the ridges between planks of smooth wood. Your back arches as you ride Sukuna, his tongue delving into you before being pulled out to roll over your clit. The stimulation has your body trying to push him away involuntarily, all too much, but Sukuna drags you back with a muttered growl of, “don't run.” You may not have heard, but you feel his fingers flex into your skin as he pulls you closer and presses you into the gazebo to keep you in place.

He doesn't need words. He’s a man of very few as is, so he puts his focus into shutting out the world for you.

Desperate for purchase, your hand finds his hair, burying within it as you press him harder into you, so close, teetering on the edge.

“Patience,” his hisses against your folds, the vibration held within his throat reaching your core as heat pools at the base of your abdomen.

As you moan softly at the sensation, he pulls away and pins your arms down, using another hand to press down against your stomach when a finger prods at your slit. He gathers your slick on the pad of his finger, using it as lubricant to push inside. One digit alone and you're already feeling the burn of your walls adjusting around him. So slowly it's almost downright painful, he curls his finger and carefully watches your reactions.

Your body twitches and jerks each time he prods the gummy part of your walls, leaving a smirk on his face as his length tents beneath his light robes.

Once your walls begin to give and let him move his finger freely within you, he presses another one in alongside the first. The stretch takes more time to adjust this time around, and with each small pump of his fingers to allow you to get accustomed with the size difference between you, the curse grows impatient and reaches down to fist one of his cocks.

A whimper parts your lips as he curls his fingers in tandem, prodding your g-spot. It's experimental at first, but the vicious curl of his lips that follows tells you all you need to know about Sukuna. Leaning over you, he presses his lips to yours, hungry and with intent while he bullies the walls of your cunt.

The way your stomach coils isn't slow or gradual, it hits you all at once, and suddenly. Your walls clamp down around his fingers as you hit your climax and your head falls back. Moaning loudly, Sukuna grins as he’s sure the whole estate can hear your pliant scream. He works you through your orgasm with purposeful and rhythmic thrusts of his fingers, the sensation rocking you as your thighs tremble in his hold.

“Satisfied, little dove?” Sukuna whispers darkly into your ear, pulling back barely a breadth so he can have you watch the way he licks your essence from his fingers. Your chest rises and falls quickly, breathing labored from the taxing sensation of an orgasm ripped from you with masterful precision.

If you had another life before this one, you're certain Sukuna knew you then and remembered  how to please you.

You wouldn't put it past him, given what you know of his nature.

Finally coming down from your high, you nod in reply to him.

“Good,” he hums, glancing back behind him before untying his own robes and letting them fall to the grass as he steps off the gazebo. He circles all four arms around you, lifting you gently and with ease as he backs into the hot spring and lowers himself. 

It’s deeper than you expected, warm and relaxing on your muscles. Slumping into the embrace of the spring, you rest against Sukuna.

His watchful eyes drink you in, lingering on your shoulders as he gazes sidelong at your face buried into his neck.

“I wasn't aware you felt that way, My Lord.”

“No more formalities,” he grunts, ignoring your statement altogether. “You will call me Sukuna.”

He can feel your smile against his skin. “Sukuna,” you test out the name without any mention of the term ‘lord’. He hums in approval, his stoic gaze watching with interest as you raise your head. “Am I to assume you don't want me to return to my village, then?”

His brow knits tightly, scowling before he has time to process your bait. “You would return after our night together?”

You giggle to yourself, shaking your head as you further antagonize him. “No, I just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

He huffs, if his dramatic eye roll is anything to go off of. “You test my patience,” he mutters though the very act of teasing him causes his cocks to twitch between you.

Smirking at the sensation, you lower a hand to return the favor, when you come to realize that there isn't one, but two awaiting you. Both thick, twitching, and hard with prominent veins. Like the rest of Sukuna, he continues to surprise you. Your lips part as you stare down at the water beneath you, barely lit by the moon high above.

As it stands, his fingers were a lot to take. Everything about the lord of the estate is monstrous in size, but he couldn't possibly expect you to take both, right?

“Look at what you do to me,” he purrs, one hand on either of your biceps as though he fears your still-quaking thighs won't hold you upright even with the water’s support.

Swallowing hard, you peer up at him, something between uncertainty and eagerness swimming within your irises.

“Show me what you would like, dove.” He motions for you to take what you want from him, watching expectantly as your hands, tiny in comparison to him, fist both shafts, stroking in a long up and down motion.

He inhales deeply, head falling back slightly though he never takes his eyes off you.

“Will you continue to take concubines?” You ask suddenly, a hint of jealousy within your tone.

Sukuna, occupied by the pleasure of your soft palms, takes a moment to reply. “I will allow unwilling offerings to stay within the estate,” he replies steadily, fixing you with a serious stare when your movement slows. “They will no longer be concubines, however. They will be residents only.”

Pride floods your chest. “I’ll be your only concubine?”

Sukuna looms over you, taking both wrists in his hands. Perhaps a scary sight to others, it puts you strangely at ease to see him stalking over you, slowly pressing you into the stone wall of the hot spring. “You,” he states, lidded eyes drinking in your expression as he ruts both cocks against you. “Will be my Queen.”

Thank god for him taking the time to stretch you out, because you fear the sensation of being pulled down on his length may very well have killed you otherwise. He lines his top cock up at your entrance and pushes in slowly, pausing at the first ring of resistance as you cling to him. He splits you open, despite how slow and gentle he is. His kisses on your neck are gentle, reassuring, and yet they sear with need, claiming you.

As he bottoms out and grunts against your skin, biting down lightly, you find yourself clinging to him out of desperation. He’s the only thing keeping you upright as your legs tremble around his girthy shaft. He fills you entirely, and you’re barely left with the ability to think straight. Everything about him is all-encompassing, the world unable to provide a single distraction when your entire body screams out for him, him, him.

“Would you like me to move, my queen?”

Eagerly, you nod as your nails rake his back when he does so. Every thick vein, every twitch, every jolt, it all speaks the words so that Sukuna doesn't need to. At some point, you became his obsession. His nightly escapades began as little more than curiosity and grew into something consuming. Turned him into something consuming.

As you feel him expertly gliding against your walls at a restrained pace, moans and whimpers pour from your mouth, feeding his desperation until he’s slamming his hips into you with fervor. He relishes in your sweet noises, when you suddenly feel something prodding your clit. Your body jolts at the unexpected stimulation before melting entirely when his stomach tongue flicks the nerve again.

Never have you experienced anything so intense and animalistic, yet so passionate as he shows you how little he needs words. He figures out the language of your body so quickly, turning your muscles pliant as you bounce on his cock.

Your orgasm doesn't sneak up on you this time, you ride the sensation of being on the edge as your nails rake his back, until he feels you clamp around him. “So tight,” he hisses to himself, his speed ramping up as he uses his second mouth to suck on your clit, sending you straight over the edge with a scream of his name. This time, he’s mean as he fucks you through it, chasing his own high as you cling to him with shaking limbs while your orgasm rocks you like a wave.

Gasping when he brushes your g-spot just right, you shudder and clamp down around him again. His pace stutters and gives out as he spills deep within your cunt, holding you tightly to him as his own chest heaves. His cum is warm in your sensitive pussy, as you’re thrown into an overstimulated sensation that makes you whimper when he pulls out slowly.

He holds you tight against his body as you breathe in the shared glow of one another, his body slumping back against smooth stones with you slumped on his chest.

“You’re right,” you murmur between pants. “We don't need words.”

He hums as his fingers brush your shoulder and a surprisingly soft kiss is pressed to your neck.

–

Just as you warned him, your hearing fades entirely.

For a long time, it frustrates you. You long to hear your husband’s baritone and grumpy voice, you long for the whispers of guards deep in discussion about the servant you wouldn't allow Sukuna to kill for a mundane hiccup.

He knows. He sees the way you eye whispering guards, confusion rife across your features as you attempt to read their lips and dissect their phrases, but no matter how good you get at it, you never quite seem to get the full story.

But like he always does, Sukuna adapts.

He lets his hand linger on your cheek on the days you struggle with self-worth, he nips playfully at you in jest when he catches his queen cooking her own meal out of stress. Sometimes, he writes little notes. Sukuna, the King of Curses, writes you notes.

He’s rarely around to see you find them, so you think, but quietly from around the corner, he watches with relief as your eyes light up and you go in search of him. He watches you bound off in the wrong direction, wondering what God presented him with someone so benevolent and kind.

You share small signals with one another. A hand sign for slipping away when you’re overwhelmed, a squeeze of your hip to let you know your king is needy, or a careful hand on your cheek to wake you up without startling you. He still stomps around, he moves loudly and with purpose to make sure you can always find him just by the movement of the estate, and rarely does he speak without facing you, giving you the opportunity to understand, even if the matter doesn't concern you.

He loves you, in a silent sort of way. A way that works because your connection runs deep.

Only one time, many moons after being plunged into constant ringing, he made a loud show of affection, reserved only for you.

A book. Simple, elegant, bound with precision. Within, a series of notes. Each one dated right down to the phase of the moon, documenting little moments. Jokes shared between you, things you may have missed.

He denies it, claims he bought it from a merchant, as though you don't have hundreds of well-crafted pages of notes to compare the handwriting to.

But you let him have that claim, because you know the truth. You know that within the way Sukuna places you at the center of his world, he will be your ears when you can no longer hear.

masterlist

❦ a/n ; i wanna lick him

“Lord Sukuna,” Uraume’s gentle voice sounds from beside him, constantly sneaking up on anyone who wasn’t already expecting them.

“Speak,” Sukuna waved a hand, not turning away from the deer he was currently skinning in spite of the servants' protests that he shouldn’t deign to do something like this himself. 

“The maidens will be arriving at sundown, do you wish to be tended to in your chambers?” This earned them a quick glance, those four crimson eyes narrowing at the sight of the young person kneeling beside him.

“Do you believe I am not capable of such things myself?” Sukuna grumbled, turning back to the deer and cutting a particularly rough path down the stomach.

“I apologize my lord, I am only the messenger,” Uraume watched Sukuna’s shoulders tense before relaxing a fraction, his control on his temper only reserved for the young sorcerer. 

“And this request, when am I to be tended to?” Sukuna huffed, the work of the deer would have to be passed on to someone else if he was not quick enough.

“At your leisure, my lord,” Uraume offered.

“Be forthcoming and tell me your stance,” Sukuna waved one of his free hands.

“As soon as possible, I believe they expect you to pick a bride tonight,” Uraume’s calm and steady voice was the only thing keeping Sukuna from driving his knife into the deer carcass. 

“Insolent fools,” he muttered, his pace quickening as he continued working through the animal hide. While no one was so bold as to tell Sukuna what he must do, it was implied in the way of intentional looks and carefully chosen words.

Wed and bear heirs.

As if such a thing existed for a being like him, he was no longer a man as any of the others who walked around the hallways were. He was never one to begin with, truthfully. He only gained his title due to the heinous massacre he induced, taking such a title as Lord from the bloody death of others. He only walked around in this large estate due to fear others carried for him. It was all he ever knew, all he ever would know.

“Such is your duty, my Lord,” Uraume never failed to truly tell Sukuna what they believed, after they were given permission of course. “Though I know how much the thought of another being around here ails you, is it not time?”

“Time for what,” Sukuna was on the verge of snarling, his anger at the clan being aimed at Uraume.

“To allow yourself a taste of normalcy,” they offered, so earnestly Sukuna felt the biting remark fade off his tongue, a long winded sigh replacing it.

“Such a luxury is not mine to have,” Sukuna’s voice was a quiet conviction. The thought of taking what he desired was never foreign, he would do anything to satiate any worldly desire such as power, land, wealth, food. 

But a woman, that was never something he desired. It was not even an unreachable fantasy, hidden in the depths of his mind. He was content in solitude, so the notion he was expected to be wed was rather grating.

“Any luxury is yours, Lord Sukuna, so long as you take it,” Uraume merely answered, as if Sukuna was being entirely unreasonable. 

“You tire me Uraume,” Sukuna’s voice held no bite, only resignation. “Tell the servants to be in my chambers, I shall be seen to.” 

“As you wish, my Lord,” Uraume’s answer was immediate, carrying a tone Sukuna found his head turning at. A small, barely discernable, pleased smile danced around their lips.

“Do not do such things in my presence,” Sukuna grumbled. “And order someone to tend to this deer, I shall expect it in pristine condition and in the ice house.”

“Of course,” Uraume stood swiftly, their white hair shifting with the movement of their deep bow.

Sukuna waved them off, standing to his full towering height as he released the pressure in his neck. He grabbed the dirty cloth he had brought with him, wiping the animal gore from his hands before heading to his chambers.

-

-

-

The spring air was cooling as the sun began its descent behind the mountains, the temperature not yet unbearable, though summer was quickly approaching. The sky began the familiar changes of turning a deep orange color as you ascended the walkway to the massive estate. The lanterns hanging from posts already glowing, the light from them dancing with the slight breeze in the air. 

Your kimono was styled as neatly as you could manage, ensuring you had carefully washed and dried it the day prior. It was a dated style, one of your mothers best that you did everything to ensure survived throughout the years. Not only for the memory of her, but for instances such as the one you were in now. 

Another event, another lord, another marriage prospect. 

It was not lost on you that you were the only one walking to this event hosted at Lord Sukuna’s. All the other women were of noble status, their means of transportation far more superior to yours. As were their kimonos, you couldn’t help but notice at every turn during these events. But with what little luck you had, you were born a sorcerer, in a land where such a thing was coveted. Not that you had any knowledge of your abilities, nor the time to foster them, but it afforded you an automatic invitation to these events. 

Of course, being a sorcerer was not a matter any woman of noble status cared about. Most lords did not care either. So you knew you were the source of the mocking snickers, and the quiet conversations taking place behind your back were nothing short of aggravating. But you still held your head high, attending every event you could and putting on a show like the other women in attendance. 

If only things such as wealth and power did not suit these noble men, perhaps you would have a genuine opportunity to preserve and better the life of your siblings. Giving them more than you could have ever dreamed for, and if it meant marrying a man you did not care for, then so be it. It was a small sacrifice many women paid, regardless of their current social status.

You were greeted at the door, before being ushered into a large room, the many women in attendance taking note of you before turning their noses up and beginning their bird-like chatter.

“Here she goes, embarrassing herself again.”

“As if he would deign to lay eyes on her.”

“Look at her kimono, it’s surely bound to fall apart soon.”

You settled onto a small seat near the back, keeping your mouth shut and your eyes observing as you waited for the next direction to be given.

Usually each Lord would have their own specific set of preferences for how these events were hosted. Some required skill performances, like playing an instrument, showcasing artistry, even something as simple as a performance of manners, whatever the lord desired to see in a wife was the showcase. Some required each woman be presented to him individually, addressing any concerns privately and allowing the women to choose their talent to showcase. 

What you did not expect was for a small child with a shock of white hair to enter, having each woman line up next to each other and stand in the center of the room.

“Lord Sukuna will grace you with his presence shortly,” was all the child offered before exiting the room.

You were at the opposite end from the entrance, the last one to be glanced upon in this odd speculation event. Your hope was slowly dwindling away, there were women far more suited to be the lady of this estate lined up ahead of you. Their dazzling outfits, perfectly styled hair, and some even wore jewelry, blatantly showcasing their wealth.

You held your head high anyway, standing stoically as you awaited your fate for the evening.

It was torture as the wait carried on, there was very little known about Lord Sukuna. So your mind naturally drifted through every small piece of information you did know.

He was strong, physically and as a sorcerer, how could he not be with four arms? He was quite gifted in hand to hand combat along with his cursed technique, making him feared by any who set their sights upon him. He was a murderer, though such things were looked past in favor of his wealth and newly gained status. As long as he did not murder your siblings, you figured it was alright. Even if he murdered you, it would be acceptable so long as he let your siblings continue to live out their lives. 

When the door to the room banged out, most women in attendance stiffed, you yourself had a jolt of fear shoot through your body at the sudden forceful sound. 

You kept your eyes forward as he began walking down the line, women bowing and staying low as he glanced upon them. Your mind was begging you to glance upon the predator who just entered the room, begging you to arm yourself at the impending doom swirling inside these walls.

When Lord Sukuna’s massive frame appeared in front of you, you bowed low before standing tall again, raising your eyes straight ahead. Which gave you a clear view of the woman’s kimono he was currently donning, a small spark of amusement coursed through you at the thought of this brute of a man finding more comfort in wearing a woman’s kimono.

“What is your name, sorcerer,” his voice was deep, he spoke as if he had authority over every atom in this room and they best not defy him.

It was no surprise he could sense your abilities, so you offered your name, letting the syllables roll off your tongue as you kept your eyes on his chest. 

“If you are not the sorcerer in front of me, leave the estate immediately,” it was not a command given with much force, nor his words embellished with a raising of his voice, but it had every person in attendance immediately in action. The sounds of swishing fabric and the quick movement of feet filled the room.

He stayed in front of you, and you kept your breathing even as you prepared for the worst. Perhaps it was an insult to him to even be here tonight, he was not known to be a kind man, in fact everyone knew how volatile he was.

He did not speak again until the door finally signaled your sole presence, “Why are you here?”

“To be considered as a marriage prospect, the same as anyone else, my lord,” perhaps it was not in your best interest to be mildly sardonic towards the man known as the King of Curses, but you could not help it with his mindless question. 

“If you wish to be insolent you will at least look me in the eyes as you do so,” he crossed one pair of his arms, his stance becoming that much more rigid, though he did not move away from you.

“Apologies my lord,” you let your gaze travel upwards, slowly meeting the crimson gaze that many men had faced before their deaths. A gaze known to crumble the resolve of any who looked upon it, “I was merely unsure if you knew what this evening was for.”

A hint of something danced across his face, but it was gone before you could decipher whether it was amusement or intent to murder.

“You are not afraid?” He asked, his eyes drinking in your every expression.

“Of you?” You raised a singular brow, “No, my lord, I am not.”

And you found you truly meant that, you did not think he would kill you. In fact, he seemed like the type of man who wanted to find justification before mindlessly killing someone, whether the reason be minor or not. Though he also seemed like the kind of man who did not care if someone was innocently caught in the crossfire when he did decide to kill. Quite a fine line you were toeing by speaking to him the way you were.

“And do enlighten me as to why that is?” He was looking down his nose at you, clearly wishing to spur your sharp tongue on, but you held your anger at a simmer before you answered.

“You are merely a man,” you held his eyes, narrowing yours as you saw a resolve settle over his features.

“Is that so?” One of his arms hidden beneath the kimono reached out from under the pair that was still crossed. You felt his fingers lightly dust your jaw, as you remained still, knowing this was some sort of test for him. 

“It is so,” you answered firmly, the feeling of his fingers working their way back caused a shiver to snake its way down your spine. 

You were not as pure of heart, body, and soul as you should have been, to be standing in front of lords hoping for the proposal of marriage. But his touch was different, it was exploratory in a way that made you feel more seen than you ever had before.

“Then you shall not object, should I offer a proposal of marriage?” He stepped closer, his fingers in an unexpectedly gentle manner guided your face upwards to remain in eye contact.

“I shall do you one better, my lord,” you held that crimson gaze deeply. “I shall accept, should you deign me worthy.”

“You have already proven your worth, my betrothed,” his eyes held a weight to them you could not decipher, but his words were as good as law in your eyes.

He was not the type of man who would lavishly propose in a fit of romance, no, but he was certainly the type of man to claim you as his and be done with it. Who would object him anyway? Not you, that much was sure.

You broke the connection building between the two of you by stepping back and bowing deeply, “Then I shall carry the honor of being so, my lord.”

“Rise, have Uraume arrange for your possessions to be brought to the estate,” his voice was laced with annoyance and for the first time tonight, you feared the result of what you would have to say next.

“I cannot until I am fully honest with you, my lord,” your voice quivered ever so slightly, noticeable in the quiet room.

“Go on,” you could hear the frustration building in his tone.

You dropped to your knees before pressing your forehead into the floor, speaking softly, “I am the caretaker of my siblings, I must beg of you to have mercy for their situation, my lord.”

“You are implying I cannot have you, without them,” there was no question, but you answered anyway.

“No, my lord, I beg of you to-” the words dying on your lips as you realized you were in no position to ever request your siblings be brought with you, especially not from this particular lord. 

“To bring them to the estate and live in this household?” He asked, his voice devoid of any emotion as you continued to grovel on the floor.

“Yes, my lord,” you answered quietly, your confidence long gone.

“Or what, you shall not marry me?” He mused.

“I cannot marry and forgo the future of my siblings,” your confession was quiet in nature, but loud in the space between the two of you.

Such a thing was unheard of, a lady in search of marriage requesting something of the lord in return. But it was unavoidable to you, you would rather live your life by suffering to provide for your siblings, than abandon them in favor of an easier route, void of them. If Lord Sukuna would not take them in along with you, you could not accept his proposal.

“Then you shall not,” his answer was firm, wariness rushing through you as you waited for him to continue. “Uraume will see that they are brought along with the rest of your possessions.”

His words resounded through your body as a wave of relief rushed through you, “I thank you for your mercy and generosity, my lord.”

“Stand and do so as you look upon me, if you truly mean what you say,” another challenge, another test from him that you found yourself unafraid to complete. 

You rose to your feet, your eyes clearly damp as you looked at him once more, those four eyes narrowing on you, “My gratitude is boundless for you, my lord. Your mercy will not be forgotten as I live the rest of my days.”

The sight of a single tear of relief falling down your cheek had him lifting his hand out again, swiping the tear away as if it personally offended him.

“I do not know what this is,” he gazed at his thumb, at the newly acquired dampness on it as his features scrunched up. 

“I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable, my lord,” you murmured, your eyes drifting down as embarrassment washed over you.

“Uraume will be by shortly to show you to your rooms,” was all he offered you before heading towards the doors and shutting you into your new life. 

a/n: true form sukuna, my loveeee <3333

Abandoned places possessed a strange allure, a magnetic pull that attracted both the curious and the reckless. There was something exhilarating about stepping into a place that time had forgotten, walking through corridors where no one was supposed to be. Dust settled where crowds once gathered, silence lingered where voices had once echoed, and every shadow felt as though it was hiding something just out of sight.

What always excited him most, however, was the feeling at the back of his mind that despite being alone, he wasn't truly alone; and sometimes that feeling turned out to be right. During several expeditions, he had encountered homeless people living inside the buildings. Usually, he would apologize for disturbing them while filming and simply edit that part out later to respect their privacy. Other times he'd ended up sprinting for his life when they decided they didn't appreciate unexpected visitors.

Regardless, he wasn't about to abandon his hobby because of a few bad experiences.

Currently, he was in an abandoned underground mall from the 90’s that he had read about online. The article hadn't specified exactly why the mall had shut down. It only mentioned that an incident had occurred one day, forcing the entire complex to close permanently. The entrances had been sealed off long ago, hidden behind fences and warning signs, but Toji knew exactly where to look for openings forgotten by the public.

Luckily, he had discovered an abandoned warehouse only six minutes away from the mall. The warehouse had been locked down as well, but after years of neglect the chains securing the entrance had become heavily oxidized. 

For someone like Toji, that wasn't much of a challenge. The back of his truck was filled with tools for situations exactly like this. All he had needed was a steel strapping cutter to cut away the rusted metal. 

Inside the warehouse, he discovered a narrow tunnel leading in the direction of the mall. The opening was partially hidden behind stacked debris and old structural supports, as if it had been intentionally forgotten rather than simply abandoned. Judging by its structure and the faint remnants of industrial markings along the walls, it appeared to be an old cargo route once used by employees to transport merchandise directly into the underground facility, long before the place was sealed off.

Toji hopped back inside his truck and drove through the tunnel. Darkness swallowed everything beyond the reach of his headlights. Concrete walls stretched endlessly on either side, stained by decades of moisture and neglect. The deeper he drove, the quieter the world became. Even the distant sounds from outside disappeared entirely, leaving only the low hum of the engine accompanying him through the darkness.

Eventually, the tunnel finally opened into a section of the mall.

Inside, the first thing Toji did was look for the control room—luckily he was able to locate it quickly. The metal door groaned loudly as he pushed it open, the sound echoing through the empty building. A stale smell immediately greeted him; a mixture of dust, mildew, and old electrical wiring that had sat untouched for decades. Rows of dark monitors lined the walls. Most were covered in a thick layer of dust. Once he spotted the electrical panel, he began flipping switches one by one. A few fluorescent lights flickered awake somewhere inside the building, bathing the corridors in a cold bluish-white glow reminiscent of daylight. Others remained dead no matter how many times he tried, leaving large sections of the mall drowned in darkness. 

The silence that followed felt heavier than it had been seconds ago.

Walking to the center of the complex, Toji stopped and stared. The mall contained four levels. The top floor—where he had entered and located the control room—overlooked the third and second levels below. Then there was the first. Even from above, the final floor looked wrong. Dark stagnant water covered nearly half of it, stretching across the abandoned storefronts like an underground lake. The surface remained still, broken only by the occasional drip falling from the ceiling far below. Years without circulation had transformed the water into a breeding ground for mold, algae, and bacteria. The smell drifted upwards through the open center of the mall in damp waves, carrying the scent of rot, mildew, and decaying concrete. The water reflected the surviving cold lights overhead. 

After settling inside an abandoned store and setting up his tent, he made sure he had everything he needed before recording.

The mall was far too large to fit into a single twenty-minute video, so he had already decided to divide the exploration into multiple parts. He could practically see the title already. “I Explored a Completely Abandoned Underground Mall (You Won't Believe What I Found)” or something equally ridiculous. Even if he didn't discover anything particularly exciting, there was no harm in making the title more dramatic. More views meant more revenue, and YouTube happened to be his primary source of income.

Toji grabbed another cookie while making the final adjustments to the video. Just as he finished saving the file, his phone rang. It was honestly a miracle he still had signal in a place like this. Only a single bar remained, and he suspected even that would disappear the moment he ventured deeper into the building.

Pulling out his phone, he checked the notification. A message from his girlfriend. She was asking how things were going and how much longer he planned to stay.

Toji immediately snapped a selfie, flashing a peace sign towards the camera.

Toji: Finished exploring the first top floors. Going to check out the second one next so I might head back soon. Still debating whether I want to explore the last floor though. The whole thing is flooded with dirty water up to my ankles, but I could probably just wear some rain boots.

Almost immediately, another message appeared.

Wifey: Be safe.

Wifey: I love you.

Toji smiled at the message, the corners of his lips lifting. He sent back a bunch of heart emojis, followed by a thumbs-up, before slipping the phone back into his pocket. 

Time to get back to work.

For a moment he remained sitting at the entrance of the tent, finishing the last cookie from the package. His gaze wandered across the dark store he had chosen as his temporary camp. Sleeping inside an abandoned mall probably wasn't the smartest thing he had ever done, but it certainly wasn't the dumbest either. Compared to some of the places he had explored before, this was practically luxury.

The underground mall remained silent around him. No footsteps echoed through the corridors. No distant conversations. No sounds of traffic from outside. Just the occasional drip of water somewhere on the lower floors and the faint hum of the lights he had managed to bring back to life. The silence was strange, but Toji had grown used to it after years of exploring forgotten places.

Letting out a small sigh, he stretched his arms above his head until his shoulders popped. The mall was massive. Much bigger than he originally expected. Even after spending hours wandering through it, he still felt as if entire sections were waiting to be discovered.

After finishing the last cookie, Toji pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the camera resting besides his backpack. The battery was still good, the memory card had plenty of storage left and he still had more than enough daylight left outside if he decided to head back later.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself.

Leaving the tent behind, Toji walked down the stairs and returned to the same exact spot where he had left off the previous video, which was inside the second floor of a Sears. The upper floor he had already covered, and now he was in the middle floor; unfortunately, he couldn't go any further down yet because it was also covered in dirty water.

He pointed the camera at the store, turning on the light to have some source of brightness. The beam immediately cut through the darkness, illuminating rows of abandoned shelves and display stands that had remained untouched for decades. Dust coated almost every surface in a thick gray layer, disturbed only by the occasional footprint he had left behind during his earlier walkthrough. A few ceiling panels hung precariously above him while others had already collapsed onto the floor below, leaving piles of debris scattered throughout the department store.

Toji adjusted the camera settings one last time before pressing record. A small red light appeared. Instantly his posture changed, the tired explorer disappeared and the content creator took over.

“Okay guys, welcome back to part 3 of my exploring abandoned buildings series, and as you can see we're still at the underground mall where we last left off.” he carried the camera around as he walked through. The flashlight attached to the camera swept across empty aisles and abandoned displays as he slowly moved deeper into the store. “Unfortunately, there isn't much in this Sears store, just the ceiling tiles that have fallen off over time and cracks on the floor. There's also those mannequin stands that were left behind still wearing clothes.”

Toji pointed at a mannequin wearing a red shirt and overalls on top of it.

The mannequin stood completely still near a collapsed clothing section, its plastic face covered in a thin layer of dust. One of its arms had fallen off at some point and now rested on the floor besides it.

“Not really my style, so I'll just leave him be.” he waved goodbye to the mannequin.

For a few seconds he kept the camera focused on it, then he lowered it.

“Actually never mind, looking at him for too long is kind of creepy.” Toji immediately turned away.

The mall remained silent. There were no sounds, no movements, there was nothing. Only the faint echo of his own footsteps bouncing across the empty building.

He continued exploring the structure with the camera recorder in hand, making small silly commentary whenever possible to keep viewers entertained and not leave them alone with the same uncomfortable silence he was experiencing. Later he'd add some soft background music so the video felt more alive than the mall itself.

The deeper he went into the second floor, the more surprised he became.

Unlike the first levels, which had already been heavily vandalized by time and previous trespassers, many of the stores here still contained merchandise. Not much, but enough. Enough to make the place feel less abandoned and more like everyone had suddenly gotten up and left one day without warning.

There was the Sears store, of course, but there was also a RadioShack that still had some old electronics left behind. Old desktop computers sat covered beneath layers of dust. Shelves contained outdated accessories, tangled cables, and forgotten gadgets that probably hadn't been touched since the place closed. He'd definitely come back later for some of those antiques and store them inside his backpack after he finished recording this part.

Then there was a Claire's store too. Toji paused near the entrance and pointed the camera toward a display rack.

“Guys, look at this.” the camera zoomed in. Hanging from one of the hooks was a small TY plushie keychain. Dust covered its fur, but otherwise it looked perfectly intact. “Maybe I'll get this for my girlfriend.” 

He gently picked it up. The toy was surprisingly well preserved; no stains, no missing eyes, no tears, just years worth of lint but that could be cleaned off. “Yeah, this one's definitely coming home with me.”

A few stores later he discovered a Hot Topic. The old familiar scribbly red logo immediately caught his attention.

“Oh hell yeah.” Toji laughed.

Unlike the modern stores people saw nowadays, this one still contained older merchandise; and it was the good stuff. A black-and-white striped jumper. A Skelanimals Y2K Kit the Cat tote bag. A vintage Ruby Gloom Leave Me Alone hoodie. Band shirts. Belts. Accessories. All frozen in time. His truck was going to be filled with all sorts of crap after he finished this series. There were simply too many items left behind. Too many forgotten treasures. Too many things he couldn't just leave here to rot. These things deserved to be appreciated. Do you know how expensive it is to buy something that was manufactured in the 90's nowadays? And here Toji was, standing in the middle of what felt like a treasure chest, free to take whatever he wanted.

Continuing down the hallways, he occasionally pointed the camera towards the railings overlooking the lower levels. The view from above made the mall look even bigger. Rows upon rows of storefronts stretched into darkness. Some sections remained illuminated by the lights he had activated earlier while others disappeared completely into blackness. 

He had to watch where he stepped. Broken glass covered sections of the floor. Pieces of fallen ceiling littered the walkways. Rotting building materials crumbled beneath his boots. Every step produced a crunch that echoed throughout the abandoned structure. Graffiti covered the walls. Dark stains marked the floors. Mold spread across corners and ceilings in strange patterns. Dead decorative plants remained trapped inside oversized pots, their brittle branches threatening to disintegrate at the slightest touch.

It was beautiful in a strange way. Everything was abandoned, forgotten. Yet somehow preserved, as if time itself had stopped moving within these walls.

For a moment Toji stopped talking. Stopped filming. Stopped joking. Instead he simply looked around. Places like this were the reason he loved urban exploration. Not because they were scary or dangerous, but because they felt like memories made physical. Little snapshots of history left behind for someone else to discover years later. As if he had traveled back in time.

After 20 minutes passed, Toji ended the video.

“Alright guys, that will be all for this part. If you enjoyed this, make sure to keep up with part 4 and perhaps part 5.” he pointed the camera down to the first floor. “Eheheh, I'm still deciding whether to explore the last floor or not, but regardless, if you liked this video make sure to like, comment and subscribe. See you soon in the next video.”

Toji clicked stop on the record button and lowered the camera. The cheerful smile he had been wearing for the audience immediately disappeared. The silence returned. He simply stood there staring at the dark hallways stretching beyond the reach of the lights. It always felt strange whenever he finished recording. One second he was talking nonstop for hundreds of viewers and the next he was completely alone again. There were no comments, no music, no audience. Just him and an abandoned mall buried beneath the earth.

Toji glanced at the camera screen, quickly checking that everything had recorded properly. Twenty-two minutes. Not bad. He could probably stretch this place into another two or three more videos if he explored the flooded floor as well. Assuming he actually decided to go down there.

His eyes drifted to the lower level. Even from up here, he could see the stagnant water reflecting the ceiling lights. The surface barely moved. The smell, however, definitely reached him. Years of mold growing. Rotting debris. Water with no circulation. It looked disgusting. Maybe he should return another day with proper waterproof equipment, or maybe he should listen to his girlfriend and stop doing dumb things for once.

“Yeah right.” Toji snorted. That wasn't happening.

Shaking his head, he adjusted the strap of his camera and began making his way to the stairs that led back to where his tent was on the upper floor. Behind him sat an abandoned Blockbuster. The iconic blue and yellow sign was faded from age but still recognizable. Rows of empty shelves could be seen through the broken glass entrance.

For a second Toji considered going inside. Then again, he'd already spent hours recording. His stomach was beginning to complain. The cookies alone weren’t enough. The tent was warm. And he still needed to edit today's footage.

Blockbuster could wait.

He continued down the corridor. His footsteps echoed softly through the empty mall. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Broken glass shifted beneath his boots. A loose ceiling panel swayed gently overhead. The farther he walked, the fewer working lights there seemed to be. The darkness gradually thickened around him.

Toji shoved one hand into his pocket and let out a yawn. Maybe he had been here longer than he thought. He couldn't even remember what time it was outside anymore. Without windows or sunlight, time felt strange underground. Hours blended together. One hallway looked almost identical to the next, maybe that was why he immediately noticed it. There was a strange faint glow.

Toji stopped walking. His eyes narrowed. “...Huh?” 

The glow was coming from the wall.

At first he thought it was a reflection. Maybe the lightning bouncing off a polished surface. But the more he stared at it, the less sense that explanation made. The light wasn't moving. It wasn't flickering. It was just... there. A thin sliver of pale cutting through the darkness.

Weird. 

Toji frowned. He had memorized the layout of the mall from the blueprint map he had found earlier and according to it there shouldn't be anything behind this wall. Maybe it was the light reflecting on it, or perhaps his eyes were simply tired. After all, he had been inside this place for hours. 

Still, curiosity slowly began creeping into the back of his mind. The same curiosity that had gotten him into trouble more times than he could count.

Toji took a few steps closer. The glow became brighter and brighter. Now he could see exactly where it was coming from, a crack; a very thin crack running vertically across the wall. A crack that absolutely should not have been there.

Toji approached it carefully. 

The light spilling through was unlike anything else in the mall. It wasn't like the cool daylight  lights. It wasn't white either. It almost looked… artificial. 

He leaned closer. There was nothing; no voices, no machinery, no footsteps, not even the distant hum of electricity.

“Hello?” Toji called out, his voice echoed through the corridor.

No response came back. 

Toji swallowed.

Now that he was standing this close, he could clearly see the light pouring through the crack. There was definitely something on the other side. Something that wasn't supposed to exist according to every map he had found; and that bothered him, because abandoned buildings followed rules. Maybe not legal and safe rules, but they followed logic. There was always an explanation. A hidden room. A forgotten hallway. An old maintenance area. Something. But this? This made absolutely no sense.

Curious despite the growing unease in his chest, Toji lifted his hand and clenched it into a fist. The logical thing to do would be to knock on the wall. If there was a hollow space behind it then he'd hear the echo immediately. Maybe there really was another section of the mall hidden away from the blueprints. It wouldn't be the first time old documentation was incomplete. Buildings this large often had maintenance corridors, storage rooms or forgotten expansions that never appeared on public records. The more he thought about it, the more reasonable explanations he found. A hidden room. A sealed-off hallway. A forgotten employee area. Anything made more sense than whatever his imagination was currently suggesting.

Swallowing hard, Toji stepped closer until he was standing directly in front of the crack. Up close the wall looked completely normal. If not for the strange glow leaking through the thin opening, there would have been nothing remarkable about it. Yet despite that, his heart continued pounding against his ribs. Something about this felt wrong. Not dangerous necessarily, just wrong; like looking at a puzzle piece that didn't belong to the same set.

“You're overthinking it,” Toji muttered to himself, letting out a nervous laugh that sounded strangely loud within the empty corridor. 

Taking one final breath, Toji raised his fist and moved forward. He expected his knuckles to touch the concrete. Instead, they kept going. His entire hand passed through the wall.

For a split second, his brain completely failed to process what had happened. The wall rippled around his wrist like disturbed water before becoming solid again. Toji stared blankly at the spot where his hand had vanished, then reality caught up with him.

“What the fuck?!” he stumbled backwards so fast that his feet tangled with each other. The camera nearly slipped from his hands as he crashed onto the floor. His heart hammered violently against his chest while every muscle in his body tensed. 

For several seconds he simply sat there staring at the wall. Nothing happened. The crack continued glowing softly. The wall remained completely still.

Toji wiped the sweat from his forehead and forced himself to take a few deep breaths. Okay. Okay. He definitely did not imagine that. There was absolutely no way. His hand had gone through the wall. Not bounced off it. Not pushed through some hidden door. Gone through it as if the concrete wasn't even there. 

The realization made his stomach twist. 

For a brief moment he considered leaving. Forget the recording. Forget the mysterious light. Just grab his stuff, drive home and pretend he never found this place. Yet even as the thought crossed his mind he already knew it wasn't going to happen. If he left now, he'd spend the rest of his life wondering what was on the other side.

Slowly, Toji pushed himself back onto his feet, pressing the camera recorder tightly against his chest. His palms felt clammy. His breathing still hadn't completely settled. Despite that, he found himself stepping forward again; one step, then another and another. Eventually he was standing directly in front of the wall once more.

“Okay…” he breathed out shakily. “You're okay.” he ran a hand through his hair. “You know you're not crazy. You saw your own hand go through the wall.” the words sounded ridiculous the moment they left his mouth, yet they were true.

Questions immediately began racing through his mind. What was on the other side? Was there a way back? What if he got stuck? What if this led somewhere else entirely? Another building? Another city? Another country? Hell, what if it wasn't even on Earth? The possibilities were so absurd that under different circumstances he would've laughed.

“Calm yourself Toji, you're alright.” he spoke the words aloud for reassurance. But being the adventurer that he was, curiosity inevitably won. It always did. The same curiosity that had driven him into abandoned buildings ever since he was a child refused to let him walk away now.

“You can do this. You can…”

Closing his eyes, Toji took a deep breath and tightened his grip around the camera. If he was really doing this, then he wanted proof. Nobody would believe him otherwise. 

Slowly he stepped inside. The moment his body touched the wall he felt resistance for only a fraction of a second before it gave way. It felt almost like walking through a thin veil hanging in the air. A cold sensation brushed across his skin. The air shifted around him. His ears popped. Then it was over.

Toji slowly released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was the color yellow. Every surface around him was covered in faded yellow wallpaper stretching farther than it should have. The second thing he noticed was the sound. A constant buzzing filled the air, low and unending, coming from the fluorescent lamps  mounted across the ceiling. The noise seemed to softly vibrate through the room. That’s when Toji realized something. The mall was gone. Completely gone. There were only yellow walls. Yellow carpet. Yellow hallways stretching into the distance.

For the first time since entering the underground mall, genuine fear crawled up Toji's spine.

“Sooo, what was it that you wanted to show us?” Satoru asked, yawning as he relaxed comfortably in the passenger seat of Toji’s truck while everyone else was pressed together like canned sardines in the back.

“You’ll see when we get there.” Toji replied flatly, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead.

“For you to finally text us, it must be something veeerry important.”

“I text you guys, just not in the groupchat.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“When?”

“I text Sukuna like every other day.” Toji admitted.

Satoru dramatically raised his arms into the air. “You text him but not me?” he scoffed. “I’m offended.”

“You’re annoying.”

Yuki, who was squeezed next to you, let out a chuckle.

“Why are you even here Yuki? You’re not even in the groupchat.” Satoru snapped back, feeling a bit humiliated from Toji’s words.

“Choso invited me.” her smile widened as she looked over at Choso, who was squeezed to her other side.

The truck continued down the road while everyone carried on with their usual banter. Between Satoru's constant complaints, Suguru occasionally adding fuel to the fire, and Yuki laughing whenever someone got annoyed, the drive felt normal despite the mystery surrounding whatever Toji wanted to show everyone. Every now and then the truck bounced from a pothole in the road, causing everyone who sat in the back to groan in annoyance as shoulders bumped together again. At this point nobody even bothered apologizing anymore, there simply wasn't enough room.

Eventually the vehicle began slowing down. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as Toji pulled into an empty clearing before finally bringing the truck to a stop.

“Alright, everyone pipe down. We’re here.” Toji announced while stopping the car and hopping off.

As soon as he opened the back door, almost everyone tumbled outside.

One by one everyone climbed out from the back seats, stretching stiff muscles and relaxing their bodies after being seated in uncomfortable positions for so long. Several joints popped, few complaints immediately followed, meanwhile Satoru was already standing outside with a bright smile on his lips, clearly enjoying the fact everyone else had suffered while he sat comfortably in the front seat the entire trip.

According to what Sukuna had told you, Toji texted the groupchat because he had found something “extraordinary,” something nobody had ever seen before, but for whatever reason he insisted everyone be there in person instead of simply explaining it through messages. With nothing else to do, Sukuna accepted and asked if you wanted to go with him. You had agreed almost immediately. Exploring an abandoned building had always been one of those experiences sitting quietly on your bucket list. It was something you had thought about doing before, but never actually committed to. Of course, imagining yourself exploring abandoned places and actually doing it were two very different things.

Still, with everyone else hopping on board, it made you feel safer if anything were to happen. Not that your boyfriend wasn’t strong enough to protect you—far from it actually, but having more people tag along made the whole thing feel less intimidating. Besides, the men would all probably end up doing their own thing while you and Yuki stuck together. It happened every time the group went out. The guys always ended up in one corner talking about some sports match, video game, or whatever random topic had their attention that week, while you and your girl friends  managed to talk about literally everything else in existence.

Toji walked to the back of his truck and unpacked a duffle bag before quickly typing something into his phone. “Alright, everyone stay close and follow me. I set up a small tent in one of the stores so we’ll go there first before proceeding to the thing I actually wanted to show you.”

The group naturally split into pairs as they followed behind him. Toji led from the front while Choso and Yuki walked together behind him. Satoru and Suguru stayed side by side, casually engaging in chatter about something neither of them seemed particularly invested in. Meanwhile you held onto Sukuna’s forearm, staying close to him.

The moment you stepped inside, your grip around Sukuna tightened slightly. A chill immediately ran down your spine. Sure, you had wanted to explore an abandoned place before, but wanting to do it and actually doing it were completely different experiences. The air felt stale. Dust lingered in the atmosphere. Every footstep echoed softly throughout the enormous structure. Shadows stretched across corners where the light struggled to reach. The place still felt unsettling.

A quiet voice in the back of your mind whispered that this was probably a bad idea. That maybe you should've stayed home. That maybe some places were abandoned for a reason. You tried your best to ignore those thoughts. Taking a slow breath, you forced yourself to calm down. You didn't want doubts winning before the exploration had even begun, and even so, it was already too late to back out now. The only way home was in Toji’s truck, and you highly doubted he wanted to waste gasoline driving one person all the way back just because they were nervous.

“This way.” Toji turned around for a second, pointing towards a small store tucked away inside the mall before continuing.

The group followed.

“Sooooo, you’re going to tell us what this is about now?” Satoru asked, stretching his arms above his head as he walked. His voice echoed faintly throughout the empty structure.

“In a second.” Toji replied.

Reaching the small store he had been using as a temporary camp, Toji dropped the duffle bag onto the floor and crouched besides it. The store itself looked no different from the others you had passed on the way in. Empty shelves stood abandoned against the walls, dust covered nearly every surface, and part of the ceiling had collapsed near the back, leaving broken tiles scattered across the ground. In the corner sat a small tent, looking strangely out of place amongst the decay surrounding it.

Toji unzipped a duffle bag he had brought with him from the truck. Inside were several water bottles, a granola bar, an apple, a banana, chocolate chip cookies, and a bag of Doritos. There was also a flashlight, a small pocket knife, a compass, extra batteries, and a few other supplies neatly packed away.

“You’re taking us to a battlefield, Toji?” Sukuna snickered after seeing the contents inside the bag.

Toji let out a tired sigh, already regretting bringing his friends here. Ignoring the comment, he continued organizing the contents, checking his camera batteries before placing them inside the bag and closing the zipper.

“I found something strange on the second floor while exploring.” he finally revealed.

Immediately everyone's attention shifted to him.

“What did you find?” Choso asked while holding hands with Yuki.

“Well...” Toji reached down and unfolded one of the blueprint maps he had left nearby. Kneeling on the dusty floor, he spread it open and pointed towards a specific section with his finger. “According to these maps, there shouldn’t be anything behind this section of the mall.”

Everyone leaned slightly closer. The blueprints looked old and worn from how much Toji had been handling them. Various sections had been circled in pen while other areas contained small handwritten notes.

Toji tapped the location again. “But while I was exploring that hallway, I saw a glowing light coming from a crack in the wall.”

“Great, so you saw a lamp shining into another room that wasn’t on the layout map. Is that why you insisted on us coming along?” Satoru laughed teasingly, clearly hoping to get a reaction out of him.

“This is why no one likes you, Satoru.”

“Ouch.” Yuki grinned.

“Not true! Suguru, Shoko and Utahime all love me.” Satoru defended himself.

“Ehhh, debatable on that last one.”

A few chuckles spread through the group. Toji merely shook his head. His friends were all complete idiots.

Part of him wanted to explain everything right then and there. To tell them about the wall, the portal, the strange yellow room on the other side, but the moment he imagined their reactions, he immediately decided against it. If somebody had told him they walked through a wall and ended up in some impossible room hidden behind reality itself, he probably wouldn't have believed them either.

Without another word, Toji folded the blueprint back up and stood. “Come on.”

Everyone followed after him again as he guided the group deeper into the mall. The more you ventured inside, the quieter everything became. Footsteps echoed through the abandoned corridors. The occasional crunch of broken glass sounded beneath someone's shoe. As everyone walked, you found yourself looking around more carefully. The place felt even bigger. Perhaps it was because there were more people with you, allowing you to pay attention to things other than your own nervousness. Storefronts stretched endlessly along both sides of the hallways. Faded advertisements still hung from walls. Mannequins stood motionless inside display windows. Abandoned decorations remained exactly where they had been left years ago.

“Be careful not to slip.” Toji called over his shoulder while leading everyone to the staircase. “That water is dangerous and has a lot of microorganisms. One of them I read about can cause serious injuries to the brain.” then he glanced back at Satoru. “Not that it would matter much in your case, but still, be careful.”

“You truly hate me!” Satoru dramatically placed a hand over his chest, pretending to be wounded.

“Only a little.”

Satoru gasped. “See? This is workplace harassment.”

“You don't even work for me.”

The group continued climbing the stairs. One floor then another. Each level seemed more creepy than the last. The smell of stagnant water became stronger the lower you went. It lingered in the air alongside everything else, creating an unpleasant combination that made you wrinkle your nose. 

Eventually everyone reached down to the second floor. Toji slowed to a stop. One by one everyone looked ahead. And there it was, a thin crack running through the wall. Bright light spilled from the other side.

Nobody said anything at first. The corridor had gone quiet. Even Satoru wasn't making jokes anymore.

“...Wooowww...” Yuki gasped softly as she slowly stepped closer to investigate.

Almost immediately, Choso's hand tightened around hers. He gently pulled her back before she could get too close. He wasn't particularly fond of the idea of her touching something strange, especially in an underground building with almost no signal and no signs of civilization nearby.

Everyone stood there staring at the crack in the wall. The light continued shining through the narrow opening, bright and unwavering. It wasn't flickering like the lights throughout the mall, nor did it resemble sunlight. It was simply there, lightening the darkness around it with an almost unnatural glow. You found yourself staring at it too. The closer you looked, the stranger it seemed. According to the blueprints there shouldn't have been anything behind that wall, yet the evidence was right in front of you. A crack on the wall, a light behind it. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, something about it felt wrong.

Suddenly you understood why Toji had insisted everyone come see it in person. No amount of explaining would've convinced you. You had to see it with your own eyes.

“Curious about this I placed my hand on the wall to knock, you know, an echo on the walls to give me confirmation that there was something else on the other side and not just my mind playing tricks...” Toji explained.

“Yes, Toji?” you asked, still holding on to Sukuna’s hand.

Toji took a moment before continuing. His eyes drifted towards the glowing crack before lowering to the floor. He seemed hesitant, almost unsure of how to explain what had happened without sounding completely insane. The silence stretched for several seconds before Toji finally spoke again. 

“Well... then this happened...” Toji stepped closer to the wall before taking another step and disappearing.

A breath caught in your throat.

One moment Toji was standing here in front of the whole group. The next he was gone. Not hidden behind something. Not turning a corner. Gone completely, as though the wall had swallowed him whole.

“What the hell?!”

“Where did he go????”

“Toji!”

“Toji, can you hear us?!”

“Get back here!”

Everyone shouted at the same time, voices overlapping throughout the corridor and each other. Panic immediately spread through the group as all eyes locked onto the wall. Your heart began pounding inside your chest. There was no way. That wasn't possible. Walls didn't just eat people, yet you had seen it happen with your own eyes.

“What do we do?” Yuki asked, looking at Choso for answers.

Unfortunately, Choso looked just as lost as everyone else. His hand tightened around hers while he stared at the wall, searching for some logical explanation that simply wasn't there.

For several long seconds nobody moved. 

Then Suguru let out a heavy breath through his nose. “Fuck it, I'm going in.”

Before anyone could stop him, Suguru stepped forward. He approached the wall without hesitation, stopped directly in front of it, and walked straight through. Just like Toji, he disappeared too.

“Suguru! Wait for me!” the words had barely left Satoru's mouth before he immediately ran after him. True to form, he didn't stop to think, didn't ask questions, and didn't consider the possibility that this could be dangerous. He simply charged after his best friend and vanished through the wall as well.

“These idiots...” Sukuna grunted, dragging a hand across his face. “Toji too.”

You remained frozen where you stood, staring at the spot where three people had disappeared. It felt unreal, like a magic trick somebody forgot to explain. Your brain kept trying to convince itself there had to be a rational answer somewhere, but every possibility fell apart the second you remembered what you had just witnessed.

“What now?” you asked quietly, taking a small step backwards. “Should we go in...?” your eyes shifted to Sukuna.

For the first time since you two started dating, he looked genuinely uncertain.

“Uh... I mean...” Sukuna scratched the back of his neck. “Do you want to?”

You looked back at the wall. The crack continued glowing softly, completely indifferent to the panic it had caused. 

You looked back at Sukuna again. “To be quite honest... not really,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I didn't expect my first time exploring abandoned places to turn out like this.” the words felt ridiculous coming out of your mouth because of course you weren't comfortable. Three people had just walked through a wall and vanished. “But what other choice do we have? We all came in Toji’s car, and he’s the only one with the keys, so it's not like we have much of a choice...”

Sukuna pressed a hand hard against his temple as realization slowly settled over him. Unfortunately, you were right.

“That fucking loser...” he groaned.

Walking home wasn't exactly an option. Not from here at least.

He let out a long sigh before looking back at you. “Just uh… let me know whenever you feel ready. We'll both go through it together.” his hand tightened around yours, enough to reassure you. A silent promise that whatever happened next, he wasn't letting you go through it alone. 

Besides you, Choso cleared his throat. “Why don't we just wait for them to come back?” he suggested.

“And if they don't?” Yuki asked, her voice noticeably quieter than before.

Immediately Choso fell silent. His mouth opened slightly before closing again, because he didn't have an answer. None of them did.

The corridor went quiet once more as everyone stared at the glowing crack in the wall. On one side was the abandoned mall. On the other was something completely unknown, something impossible. The thought of stepping through that wall without knowing what waited on the other side was foolish, yet the longer you stood there, the more thoughts began creeping into your mind.

What if it wasn't dangerous? What if whatever was on the other side wasn't bad at all? Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe this was simply another hidden part of the mall. Maybe Toji was playing some elaborate prank. Maybe there was a projector involved. Some kind of special effect. After all, Toji did run a YouTube channel. He recorded videos, edited footage, and spent most of his free time learning new technology. Perhaps this was just another one of his ridiculous ideas to get views online. Then again… even for Toji, this felt extreme.

You shook your head and pushed those thoughts aside. None of it explained how three grown men had just vanished through a solid wall.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Sukuna’s hand. “Okay...” you said quietly. “I think I'm ready.”

“You sure?” Sukuna asked, studying your face carefully as if trying to figure out whether you were forcing yourself to do this.

You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced back to the wall. The strange light continued pouring from the crack, illuminating part of the corridor around it. Standing this close, it almost felt as if it were inviting you in. Every instinct in your body told you to turn around and leave, yet another part of you—the same part that had agreed to come exploring in the first place—wanted answers.

“I think so...” you admitted.

“Alright then.”

The both of you turned to face the wall. Sukuna gave the mall a long look before tightening his grip on your hand. Behind you, Choso rubbed his face while Yuki continued staring at the crack with a mixture of fascination and concern.

“Fiiiine,” Choso groaned. “We’re going too.”

Yuki smiled nervously beside him. “Thank the gods, because there is absolutely no way I’m standing here alone.”

“You weren't going to.”

“I know, but saying it out loud makes me feel better.”

You looked over at Sukuna one last time. “Together?”

“Together.”

The two of you stepped closer to the wall. The closer you got, the stranger it looked. The crack itself wasn't particularly large, yet the light coming from it seemed far brighter than what should've been possible. It spilled across the floor and walls around it.

Your heart hammered inside your chest. This was insane. Completely insane. People weren't supposed to walk through walls.

The moment you reached the crack, Sukuna gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Ready?”

“No.”

“Good answer.”

Despite the fears, a small laugh escaped you. 

Before you could change your mind, both of you stepped inside. The sensation was impossible to describe. It felt cold and warm at the same time. Smooth yet rough. It felt as though your entire body had become weightless. The sounds of the mall disappeared. The air around you shifted. Time itself seemed to slow down until everything became strangely distant.

Then it was over.

The ground felt solid beneath your feet once again.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I-is it safe?” you asked, refusing to open them. “Are we okay?” your grip around Sukuna’s hand tightened.

From somewhere nearby, you heard voices.

“Satoru, stay still. How did you even manage to do this?” Suguru sounded exasperated.

“I just wanted to grab those headphones!”

A short laugh escaped Sukuna. “Yeah, we’re okay. You can open your eyes now.”

Slowly, you did. The first thing that greeted you was the light, a neutral white light. You blinked several times before your eyes adjusted. Yellow. Everything was yellow. The walls. The carpet. The endless hallways stretching beyond the room. The place looked like some strange office building frozen in time.

In the middle of the room sat a mountain of recording equipment: cameras, microphones, headphones, tripods, memory cards, light stands, cables tangled together in massive knots, and right on top of that pile was Satoru.

“Get me out of here!” he complained. 

Several cords had somehow wrapped themselves around his legs while he desperately held onto a pair of headphones. Suguru stood next to him trying to untangle the mess while simultaneously questioning every life decision that had brought him to this moment. In the corner of the room, Toji was adjusting his camera settings as if none of this was unusual.

“Where are we?” you asked quietly, still holding onto Sukuna as you slowly observed the room around you.

Behind you, Choso and Yuki stepped through the wall as well. The moment Yuki opened her eyes her jaw practically dropped. 

“Woooooooow!” she gasped. “Toji, where are we?!?”

Even Choso looked stunned. His eyes moved across the yellow walls and endless hallways, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. 

Everyone looked amazed, baffled. No words could properly describe the feeling. Nothing about this place made sense. It felt real. The carpet beneath your feet was real. The buzzing lights overhead were real. The stale air filling your lungs was real. 

Suguru ultimately succeeded in releasing Satoru from the cords. Satoru joyfully raised the headphones right away.

“I hope these work when we get back.”

“Dumbass,” Suguru muttered.

In the corner, Toji finally finished adjusting his camera. A small red light blinked on, indicating that it was recording. Of course he was recording.

“Alright.” Toji cleared his throat. “I did walk around for a bit, but not much. Follow me.”

The group slowly gathered together. Nobody seemed particularly eager to wander off alone. Not in a place like this.

As everyone followed behind, a strange uneasiness settled over you. The room was silent aside from the constant buzzing of the fluorescent lamps overhead. No air conditioning. No distant voices. It reminded you of standing inside an empty building after closing hours, except worse. The air was strangely still. Not oppressive. Not heavy. Almost as if something was missing from it.

As Toji led everyone towards one of the hallways, your eyes drifted to a sign hanging from the wall.

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

The sign looked old, worn, and oddly out of place. Authorized personnel, you thought. Personnel for what exactly? Who would even work somewhere like this? You wondered if this place had once been part of the mall. Maybe some forgotten section hidden behind the walls. Maybe a store that had closed long before everything else.

“Authorized personnel only...” Choso read aloud. “Seems this is our cue to turn back now.”

“Nonsense!” Satoru immediately protested. “We just got here. We have to investigate this place.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea...” Choso replied.

Toji stopped walking then turned around to face everyone. “Okay.” his expression became more serious. “From this point on we're continuing further inside. If anyone wants to turn back, do it now.”

Nobody answered. 

You found yourself instinctively moving a little closer to Sukuna.

Suguru and Satoru seemed completely unconcerned. If anything, they looked eager to continue. Satoru's eyes kept wandering down the hallway as if he expected to find something exciting around the next corner. Suguru wasn't much different. While he appeared calmer, there wasn't any sign that he planned on turning back.

On the other side, Choso looked significantly less enthusiastic. His arm remained around Yuki's shoulders while his eyes studied the hallway ahead. The place clearly bothered him too. The problem was that curiosity always outweighed fear.

"What do you want to do?" Sukuna asked quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear.

You hesitated. The sensible answer was obvious. Turn around, go back through the wall, and pretend none of this ever happened. Yet when you imagined leaving now, a different feeling settled in your chest; regret, because if you left, you would never know what this place was. You would spend the rest of your life wondering what existed beyond these hallways.

“I don't know…” you admitted honestly. “I don't feel too sure about this place, but…” your eyes drifted towards the corridor. “I'm intrigued.”

Sukuna nodded. “I feel the same… I think I want to stay too. But I'm not leaving you here alone.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. 

You looked down at the carpet beneath your feet. Every part of your brain was screaming at you to turn around. Yet your feet refused to move. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was stubbornness. Or maybe seeing everyone else standing here made the decision easier. Whatever the reason, you eventually sighed. 

“We should stay.”

“You sure?”

You bit your lip. Not really, but you nodded anyway. “I think so.”

“Alright then.”

The two of you looked back at Toji.

Across the room, Choso let out an exaggerated groan. “Fiiiiine.” he threw one hand into the air. “We're staying too.”

Yuki immediately brightened up. “Really?”

“No.” Choso deadpanned. “I was planning on leaving you here.”

Yuki smacked his arm.

Satoru laughed. “Excellent decision. I knew you guys would come around.”

“You say that like you didn't sprint through a mystery wall after Suguru without thinking.” Sukuna said.

“I thought about it.”

“No, you didn't.”

“I thought about it very quickly.”

“That's not how thinking works.”

Meanwhile, Toji had already turned the camera back to himself. The red recording light continued blinking. Part of you wondered how he could still be focused on filming at a time like this. Then again this was probably the biggest discovery of his entire career. Millions of people explored abandoned buildings. Nobody discovered impossible worlds hidden inside walls.

“Okay…” Toji spoke into the camera. “We don't know where we are. I found this weird light inside the abandoned underground mall. When I approached it, it led me here.” he slowly turned the camera at the group.

Satoru immediately waved. “Hi mom.”

“You think your mom is watching this?” Suguru asked.

“She definitely will after this.”

Ignoring them, Toji continued. “Me and my friends are going to see what's back here. Hopefully something interesting.”

The moment he finished speaking, he stepped beyond the warning sign. The rest of the group exchanged uncertain glances before following after him.

As soon as you crossed beyond the sign, a strange feeling settled in your stomach. Nothing changed. The walls remained yellow. The lights continued to softly buzz. The carpet felt exactly the same beneath your shoes. But something felt as though you had crossed an invisible line, like the sign had been more than a warning.

The place was huuuge, endless,  no matter where you went there was just another opening taking you somewhere else. Every room seemed connected to another, every corridor opening into two more, every turn revealing another section of yellow walls and buzzing lights. It almost felt as if the place was constantly unfolding in front of you. No matter how long you walked, there was always something beyond the next room waiting to be discovered.

At first there was nothing, just big rooms that would echo the footsteps or noises someone made. The group kept quiet, looking at everything in bewilderment and baffled by what they were seeing. Every now and then someone would stop to stare at a wall for a little longer than necessary or glance down a corridor stretching into the distance. The place didn't feel real. It felt like a dream someone had forgotten to wake up from.

At some point, Satoru—as usual—began some meaningless chat, making stupid remarks and occasionally getting a response. The sound of conversation helped. It made the endless rooms feel a little less empty, a little less unsettling. Even if half of what came out of Satoru's mouth was nonsense, it was still better than listening to nothing.

A few corridors connecting the rooms were completely dark, but thankfully the rooms from both ends and Toji's camera flashlight shined inside. Even so, every time the group crossed one of those darker hallways, you found yourself walking a little faster without realizing it. The darkness felt different here. Not threatening exactly, but unnatural. 

As the group went deeper and deeper, stranger things started appearing.

There was furniture, but it was all wrong: a table was halfway finished, chairs didn't have their legs, lamps were going through the walls, a desk was stuck on the ceiling, everything was just wrong. It felt like someone had tried to photocopy a room and the image came out distorted. A copy of a copy that kept degrading each time it was reproduced. The longer you looked at those objects, the more uncomfortable they became. Everything looked familiar enough for your brain to recognize it, but wrong enough to make you wish you hadn't looked so closely.

The entrances got weird over time too. At first they were just long empty entrances, but then they got odder. A small square on the center of the wall took you somewhere else. A really slim rectangle led to another corridor. There were rooms completely dark. A piano stuck on the floor. A car that had crashed into one of the walls, dark smoke dust around it. Based on the model of the car, it must've happened years ago. Yet there was no sign of the driver. No belongings. No indication that anyone had ever been there.

“Hellooooo? Is anyone here???” Satoru stretched out his voice, the noise vibrating and resonating throughout the rooms.

As the group went deeper and deeper, more things started appearing. In some places, there were cameras on the doorways with cardboard cutouts of a caveman saying hello in multiple languages. Drawings started appearing on the walls, usually point marks or arrows leading the way. Toji, acting as the group's leader, followed them without much hesitation.

The place felt endless, like a maze. It reminded you of a labyrinth but without the Minotaur... well, at least you hadn't seen one yet. Hopefully things stayed that way too.

Over time, as you continued exploring with the group, your anxieties began calming down. The longer you were here, the more your mind started forgetting the idea that there was something else lurking somewhere within these endless rooms. Perhaps this was proof that once you faced your fears, things became less scary. And they did. What had once felt overwhelming now felt strangely familiar. The yellow walls no longer made your stomach twist. The constant buzzing slowly faded into the background. You were more at peace now, even cracking jokes with Satoru and Yuki every once in a while.

“All these empty rooms, they could build apartments here.” Yuki joked as she looked around one of the larger spaces.

“Would you move in?” you asked her.

“Hmmm...” Yuki thought about it for a second, placing a finger against her chin. “I think I would, though they seriously need to change the lighting and wallpaper. All this yellow is not it. Reminds me of piss.”

You and Satoru immediately burst out laughing. Even Suguru let out a low chuckle. Only Sukuna, Toji, and Choso remained quiet.

“Heyyy, brighten up.” Satoru reached over and shook Choso's shoulder.

“Satoru... let go.”

“What? I'm not doing anything.”

“We need to stay focused.”

“You're too tensed up dude, chill. Nothing is going to happen.”

“You don't know that.” 

“If it did, it would've happened already.”

Choso grunted. His response felt different; not annoyed but tired. Over the last hour, he had slowly spoken less and less. While everyone else occasionally got distracted by the bizarre things around them, Choso remained alert. Constantly looking around. Constantly checking hallways. Constantly making sure Yuki remained nearby. The deeper they ventured into the place, the less comfortable he seemed.

From the front Toji called out, “Can you guys keep it quiet? I'm still recording.”

Satoru looked at him and immediately let go of Choso's shoulder, raising both hands. “Alright, alright, sorry...” he whispered before adding under his breath, “party pooper...”

Toji ignored him.

On the walls even more signs started appearing, and Toji seemed far too invested to stop following them. Every new arrow felt like a clue. Every new marking felt like evidence that someone else had been here. He continued leading the group through more and more rooms, the camera constantly rolling as he documented everything. Random holes had started appearing in the floors too, forcing everyone to watch where they stepped.

Eventually the arrows led everyone to a wall covered in scribbles.

The moment you saw it, the atmosphere changed. Unlike the previous markings, these weren't simple arrows or directions. They felt desperate. Messages had been written all over the wallpaper using different colors and different handwriting.

the sound doesn't stop

it knows your fears

it hears me

it hears me

it hears me

God closed its eyes

There were handprints pressed against portions of the wall. A strange smiling face had been drawn near the center, its expression somehow making your skin crawl despite how simple it looked. Near the top—far too high for an average person to comfortably reach—someone had drawn a window with trees and a bright sun outside.

Beneath it another message had been written: if you see it don't move, don't scream, don't breathe. Stay still

You felt your stomach tighten.

At both ends of the wall were more arrows.

The arrow on the right read: Habitable Zone

The arrow on the left read: The End

“Huuuh...” Toji slowly recorded everything on the wall, taking his time documenting every message and drawing. “Habitable Zone or The End...” he muttered. “Well, I imagine The End is just the end of this.”

Nobody said. The lights continued buzzing, but louder now. 

Choso finally spoke. “Can't we go through the other side?” he asked, looking around. “We've explored enough and I don't want to take my chances pushing this further. We should all go back. I'm tired, and I'm sure it's pretty late by now.”

“What?” Yuki looked over at him. “You want to go already?”

“Yes...” Choso answered. “I think we should all return.”

“No way dude, this is all too fun and mysterious.” Satoru immediately blurted out.

“Yeah Choso...” Yuki agreed. “We just got here. No way you're tired already. Besides, this is all too cool to quit now.”

Choso exhaled slowly through his nose. “Yuki.” his voice sounded more serious this time, more commanding. “We've been here for more than an hour. There's nothing to see, and to be honest, I don't like being here.” his eyes briefly wandered around the room. “I know you're excited and all, but I don't feel comfortable being here. Honestly, I'd appreciate it if you didn't disagree with me on this one and just came back.”

“Choso.” Yuki scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You say that every time I’m out with your friends. You always want to leave before everyone else.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” Yuki crossed her arms. “I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t want to start an argument, but it feels like you’re being too overprotective. We’re fine. Nothing is going to happen.” she gestured towards you. “She is here too, and I barely get to hang out with her because we’ve all been so busy lately. Can’t you please do this for me once?”

Choso stared at her. “You don’t understand.” 

“No, you don’t understand.” Yuki immediately shot back. The frustration in her voice caught everyone off guard. “Every single time we go somewhere you act like something terrible is about to happen.”

“Because something could happen.”

“But it hasn’t.”

“Yet.” the answer came instantly. Even Choso himself seemed surprised by how harsh he sounded.

Yuki stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means look around, Yuki.” Choso spread his arms. “We walked through a wall. We’re in some place nobody understands. We have no clue where we are. We don’t know how big this place is. We don’t know if there’s something else here with us.”

“Exactly.” Yuki replied. “We don’t know. We don’t know anything. Which is why I want to keep exploring.”

Choso let out a disbelieving laugh. “Exploring?”

“Yes.”

“You’re treating this like some vacation.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are.”

The argument was escalating now. You could feel it. Neither of them were really listening anymore.

“You know what?” Yuki stepped closer. “I’m tired of you acting like I can’t make decisions for myself.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“It is.”

“No it isn’t.”

“You literally just asked me to leave because you don’t like being here.”

“Because I’m worried!” the words came out louder than intended. 

The entire room fell silent; even Satoru stopped smiling. Toji lowered the camera. 

Choso closed his eyes, immediately regretting it, but the words were already out. “I’m worried.” he repeated more quietly. “I’ve been worried since we walked through that wall.”

Yuki’s expression softened slightly, only for a second, then she looked away. “Choso...”

“No.” he shook his head. “I’m serious.” his hand moved through his hair. He looked exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally. “I don’t like this place.” his eyes wandered toward the hallway labeled The End, then to the one labeled Habitable Zone, then back to Yuki. “Every room looks the same. We don’t know where we are. We don’t know where we’re going. We don’t know if we can even find our way back.”

The lights continued humming.

“Maybe I’m overreacting.” Choso admitted. “Maybe I am.”

Yuki remained quiet.

“But I don’t want to keep doing this.”

Yuki looked down at the floor, then back up at him. “And I don’t want to leave.”

Choso’s shoulders dropped. For several seconds neither moved. Neither spoke. The two simply stared at each other. Then Choso slowly let go of her hand.

“Fine.” the word sounded defeated. “Do whatever you want.”

“Choso—”

“No.” he shook his head. “I’m not your father. You’re old enough to do whatever you want.” he turned and began walking away. Towards The End. Away from the argument. Away from the room. Away from the buzzing lights that never seemed to stop.

Yuki watched him leave. Something flickered across her face. Regret. Hurt. Frustration. You couldn’t tell. She turned around too. “Fine,” and started walking in the opposite direction.

“Uhhh guys...” you mumbled. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to split up.”

Neither of them listened. They just kept walking. Further and further away. Disappearing into separate hallways.

“Orrr you can just ignore me.”

The rest of the group remained standing there. 

Satoru looked at the corridor Choso disappeared into. Suguru looked at Yuki. Then both looked at each other.

Suguru massaged his forehead. “Satoru, go get Choso and convince him to come back. I’ll go get Yuki and do the same.”

Satoru groaned dramatically. “Alriiiighttt... didn’t think I’d end up playing babysitter in an interdimensional piss maze.”

Despite the argument, a short laugh escaped Suguru. “Just go.”

Satoru saluted. “Yes, sir.”

The two immediately headed in opposite directions, chasing after the couple before they managed to get too far. And just like that, the group became even smaller.

“Of course this had to happen.” Sukuna muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The room felt much larger than before. Only moments ago there had been seven people standing together. The conversations, the jokes, the occasional complaints from Satoru had made the place feel almost normal. Not safe exactly, but manageable. Now half the group had disappeared down separate hallways.

“Toji?” you looked over at him. “Are you, uhhh... going to get them?”

Toji didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the wall of messages. The camera stayed raised, recording it. His gaze moved across the arrows, the warnings, the scribbled notes left behind by people who had apparently been here before.

“Toji?” you repeated.

“Huh?”

Your voice seemed to snap him out of whatever thought process he had fallen into.

He looked over his shoulder. “Oh.” he blinked. “Nah.”

“Nah?”

“They’re all grown adults.” he shrugged. “They can take care of themselves.”

You stared at him. That answer wasn't reassuring at all. 

“But—”

“I imagine they'll come back here eventually.” Toji adjusted the camera settings while speaking. “So I'll just continue exploring for a bit before they get back.”

“You seriously don't care?”

“Ehhh...” Toji tilted his hand side to side. “Not really.”

Your jaw dropped slightly.

“Like I said, they're adults. My main focus here is getting footage, not looking after them.”

“Okayyy...”

Part of you wasn't sure whether to admire his confidence or be horrified by it. Maybe both.

Sukuna leaned closer to you. “You know they're usually not like this.” he whispered.

You immediately whispered back. “No kidding?”

Normally, Choso and Yuki were practically attached at the hip. Sure, they disagreed sometimes, but never enough to storm off in opposite directions. Suguru and Satoru definitely weren't the type to wander away from each other either. Something about this place seemed to amplify everything. Every irritation, every doubt, every uncomfortable thought, like the rooms quietly took whatever was already inside your head and turned the volume up.

“Anyways,” Sukuna continued, straightening up. “We should stay close to Toji.”

“Yeah....”

You looked down the hallway where Yuki had disappeared, then to the one Choso had taken. Neither of them were visible anymore. The corridors swallowed people surprisingly fast. One minute somebody was standing there. The next they were gone behind a corner.

A strange chill ran through you. For the first time since arriving, the size of this place truly began sinking in. If someone got lost here… how would you even find them? The thought lingered in the back of your mind as Toji started walking without waiting for anyone, without even checking whether the rest of the group was following. He simply picked a direction and kept moving.

Toji paced a few steps ahead of you and Sukuna, keeping some distance while still recording everything else with his camera.

Honestly, you were starting to regret tagging along. Sure, at first the idea had been exciting and you had completely lost your mind when he walked through the wall, but after spending all this time wandering around with nothing particularly interesting happening, it was starting to become boring. The rooms had felt mysterious at first, every hallway making your imagination run wild with possibilities, but after hours of walking through endless yellow rooms and identical corridors, the novelty was beginning to wear off.

You yawned. “I’m hungry.”

Sukuna chuckled softly. “Yeah, same here.”

You continued walking besides him, your footsteps muffled by the carpet beneath your feet. “You know, I’m starting to regret coming along.”

Sukuna dramatically gasped. “Are you saying I’m boring company?”

You giggled. “Well, it’s not you. I like spending time with you, it’s just that this is boring. We haven’t seen anything interesting, and after a while it gets old seeing basically the same rooms over and over again.” you reached over and held onto his hand.

“I get it.” Sukuna nodded. “Normally we’d find something interesting, but this has just been the same rooms with weird doorways and half-finished furniture.”

“You think Toji remembers how to get back?” you asked, glancing briefly at the front before looking back at him.

Sukuna scratched his ear before replying. “Probably not.”

“Figures. We should’ve left a trail or something.”

“Mhhm.” Sukuna nodded in agreement.

The two of you continued walking behind Toji. The cameraman seemed completely absorbed in whatever he was recording. Every now and then he'd stop to film a doorway, a strange piece of furniture, or one of the countless arrows painted across the walls before continuing onward.

“Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“You think the others are fine? I hope Choso and Yuki make up because it’ll be awkward if they break up. You know, us being friends with both. It always feels like you're forced to choose between one or the other.”

Sukuna snorted. “I get it, but they'll probably be okay. It’s not the first time they've argued before, and when they make up they act like it's their first time falling in love.”

“To be fair, they act like that all the time.” a small smile tugged at your lips. “But seriously, I don't think it was a good idea to split up. Whatever. At least Satoru and Suguru are with them and Toji's not alone.”

“Agreed.”

The conversation died down. At first you didn't notice what had changed. Everything around you looked exactly the same, yet something here in this room felt different. The hairs along your arms slowly stood up. Your stomach tightened. The air had grown colder. Not dramatically colder. Just enough for you to notice, enough for your body to notice before your mind did. Your breathing suddenly felt heavier. The uneasy feeling you had experienced when first entering the wall came rushing back stronger than before.

“You feel that too?” you stopped walking, tightening your grip around Sukuna’s hand.

“Yes...” Sukuna immediately stopped as well. His eyes scanned the surrounding rooms, the entrances, corners, dark hallways, every possible direction. It wasn't panic. It was caution.

Ahead of you, Toji paid no attention to either of you. He remained completely absorbed in recording, almost captivated by whatever thoughts were running through his head. You wondered how the camera was still running, but knowing Toji he probably had enough spare batteries stored away to survive the apocalypse.

The three of you continued walking. The temperature seemed to drop another degree. The lights buzzed louder. The silence felt ominous. Toji walked inside a dark corridor. Without warning he took a sharp turn around the corner. The moment he did, his entire body froze. His posture straightened instantly. The camera lowered. For a second he simply stared.

“What the hell?!” his voice echoed through the hallway, then he ran straight into the darkness.

You and Sukuna looked at each other confused and alarmed.

“What?”

“Hey Toji, wait up!”

Neither of you received a response.

You and Sukuna ran after him. By the time you reached the entrance of the dark corridor, Toji was already gone. Only the sound of his footsteps remained, fading somewhere deeper within the maze.

“Let’s go check it out.” Sukuna said. “We can’t lose him.”

You nodded.

The two of you hurried down the hallway. The darkness swallowed the corridor between the pools of light at either end. Your footsteps echoed as you followed the direction Toji had gone, turning the corner and entering the next room he wasn't there. 

This new room was enormous. Much larger than the previous ones. Several entrances branched off in different directions, each one leading somewhere else. You and Sukuna stopped in the middle, looking around and listening for Toji, but nothing came.

“Fuck!” Sukuna cursed. “Where the fuck could he have gone?”

“Toji?” you called out. “Where are you?” your voice echoed down one of the tunnels.

No answer came back, only silence.

“Great.” Sukuna sighed.

“What do we do now?”

Sukuna stood there for a minute, thinking. “We should probably look for him. As much as I want to, we can’t just abandon him.”

You huffed. “So where do we go from here?”

The both of you slowly turned, studying each entrance. Trying to decide. Trying to guess. Trying to find some clue.

“Through here.” Sukuna finally pointed to one of the openings.

“Are you sure?”

“No.” he immediately admitted. “But what other choice do we have? We can’t just stay here.”

“Okay...” you slowly inhaled and exhaled.

“Come,”

The two of you walked towards the passageway on the left, stopping briefly at the entrance. For a moment neither of you moved, silently contemplating the decision before finally stepping through. Almost immediately the temperature returned to normal, or at least as normal as it could be in a place like this. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly. The feeling of being watched faded.

You exchanged a look with Sukuna. “I hope we find him.”

“I hope so too.”

Just as every other hallway this one seemed to lead to more pointless rooms. The two of you continued wandering through the maze. Occasionally there would be a random hole in either the ceiling or the floor leading to even more pointless rooms beyond. Every turn was similar to the last. Every corridor seemed to stretch forever before opening into another room that looked the same. Unfortunately, neither of you had been able to find Toji.

At first you had been hopeful. Every new room made you think maybe he would be standing around the corner recording something weird for his channel. Every distant shadow made you wonder if it was him. But after spending who knows how long walking through endless hallways, you were finally forced to admit the truth. He was lost.

“This was such a terrible idea.” you grunted, facepalming yourself.

Sukuna snorted. “You're only realizing that now?”

“Yes.”

Your legs kept moving, taking yet another turn. The conversation died off again as the two of you wandered through another corridor. The lights buzzed faintly overhead. The carpet muffled your footsteps. Everything felt strangely still, which at this point became normal.

Both of you stopped in a new room, but this one was different. Well, not completely different. It still had the same yellow wallpaper and the same unsettling atmosphere. Yet it was undeniably different. The room was slightly larger than the others. A row of pendant lamps hung from the ceiling, each spaced evenly apart. Bright red signs screamed 'EVERYTHING 50% OFF!' from different corners of the room. There were different types of tables: coffee tables, console tables, round tables and dining tables. There were couches: vintage camelbacks, ottomans, recliners, sofas and armchairs. Beyond them sat complete bedroom displays with different bed frames, nightstands and dressers arranged neatly together. It looked like an actual place, a setting.

“Wait...” your voice came out softer. “Is this supposed to be a furniture store?”

“Ikea?” Sukuna said.

You gently smacked his chest. “Not the time for jokes.”

“I wasn't joking.” 

He looked completely serious. You rolled your eyes.

“Even so, why would this be here?”

Sukuna shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno.”

You both slowly began circling the room, staying close to each other while investigating. You peeked inside drawers. Opened cabinet doors. Checked behind furniture displays. Part of you hoped there would be something useful here. A clue. A note. Anything that could explain where you were or where Toji had disappeared to. Unfortunately, the furniture store seemed just as abandoned as everything else. He was such an idiot for running off like that.

“You know what this whole place makes me feel like?” Sukuna suddenly said.

You glanced over at him. “What?”

“It makes me feel like I'm this forty year old guy stuck in a shitty job after my wife kicked me out of the house and I never got to accomplish my dreams.”

You immediately laughed.

Sukuna made a very dramatic face, closing his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows while somehow still grinning. One fist rose into the air, clenched tightly as if he were starring in some low-budget drama.

Slowly opened his eyes again. “You wouldn't kick me out of our house, right?”

The two of you didn't even have a house yet. You just lived together in a small apartment your father had let you borrow while the two of you scraped together enough money for a place of your own. Having only recently graduated from college and started your lives together, things had been challenging at times, but so far you had managed.

“Hmmm.... I don't know.” you placed a finger against your cheek, pretending to think about it. “If you start acting like an asshole to me, I would.”

“Well then, I'll be sure to be careful.”

“Good boy.” you patted his head.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and put on an annoyed expression, but after spending so many years together you already knew he was only putting on a show. The truth was that he loved when you coddled and praised him, but only when alone. If you were ever to do this in front of his friends you were sure he’d kill you and them. 

The two of you simply wandered around the store together; opening more drawers, testing recliners, making fun of ugly furniture designs. It was oddly normal. Almost enough to make you forget you were trapped in an interdimensional maze hidden behind reality.

Sukuna's expression slowly shifted into a devilish grin. That immediately made you suspicious.

“Since we're lost and Toji is not around...” he reached into his pocket. “I have a wonderful idea.” he pulled out his phone.

“Which is?” you narrowed your eyes.

Sukuna slowly approached you, placing one hand on your lower back and pulling you closer until the two of you were face-to-face.

“Well, we're alone and there's tons of mattresses laying around.” he gestured to the bedroom displays with his free hand. “I think you can figure out the rest.” his grin widened. He looked far too pleased with himself.

“Seriously? Now?”

“Why not?”

You shook your head. “We're lost in a nightmare.”

“Exactly.”

“That is not helping your argument.”

“It is from my perspective.” he laughed. “Think about it. Nobody’s around, so it’s not like they’re going to notice. Besides, imagine the views we’ll get if we fuck in a place like this.”

You looked around at the strange space surrounding you. It would be like the two of you were having sex in a furniture store, but something about this place wasn’t right.

You bit your lip, thinking it over before eventually giving in. “Okay... just make sure you crop out our faces when you upload it.”

Sukuna walked over to one of the bedroom sets, clicking record on his phone and placing it on top of a dresser to capture both of you as well as the weird-looking background.

“Of course. I always blur out our faces when I upload.” he started taking off his shirt, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants.

You laid on the bed, taking off your clothes as well and getting ready into position. “You even have signal on that thing? Mine wasn’t working earlier.”

“Nah, but after we get out of here I’ll upload it to our shared account. You know, surprisingly, Twitter pays well.”

“Makes sense. People are horny over there.”

You spread out on the bed, shifting to the side with your legs apart. From over your shoulder, you could already see the outline of his erection pressing against the fabric of his boxers. It suddenly became very obvious why he had suggested the idea in the first place. The man had been hard this entire time.

A soft giggle escaped you.

Sukuna leaned over your body, leaving kisses across your face as he immediately got to work, gently pressing his fingers against your clothed womanhood.

A soft sigh escaped you. Neither of you seemed concerned about the endless maze. 

Your hand found its way to his dick, slowly stroking him as he continued kissing your cheek and jaw.

The familiar intimacy eased some of the tension that had settled into your body over the past few hours. Being trapped should have felt terrifying, but with him close, it became easier to forget.

Moving across the bed, you came face-to-face with his hardened cock. A smile found its way to your lips as your hand wrapped around his shaft, tapping it gently against your lips before bringing it in your mouth. Slow, steady motions followed as your head bobbed around him, savoring the salty taste of his precum. A deep breath filled your lungs before taking him fully, his tip reaching the back of your throat while your lips brushed lightly against his darkened pink pubes.

“Hmmmphh…” you moaned around him, the vibrations making him shudder as his hand tightened around the back of your head.

Looking up, you watched his jaw hang open as he breathed deeply, eyes squeezed shut while he gently guided your head back towards him each time you pulled away. Fighting the urge to gag, you focused on steadying your breathing against the feeling of him fully sheathed in your mouth.

“Fuuuck…” he groaned, opening his eyes slowly to look down at you.

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly pulled away from him. His hand remained resting on your head but made no move to pull you back. Instead, his gaze sharpened, something darker settling behind it.

Suddenly your hips were in his hands. 

With a firm grip, he turned you around until your face was buried in the pillows before dropping to his knees and tugging your panties down. Strong hands settled on your hips, holding you firmly in place as he dragged his tongue across your slit. A bite of your lip did little to muffle the sounds escaping you. Fingers tightened around the pillow instead, knuckles slowly turning white against the fabric. Sukuna pressed the tip of his wet muscle on your clit, flicking your bud rapidly before sliding it back to your entrance. The juices spilled onto his mouth as he continued savoring them, like a thirsty man who hadn’t had water in over twenty-four hours. Sukuna continued. You bit your lip, trying—and miserably failing—to quiet down the moans. Your hands clutched the pillow tightly.

Without a warning Sukuna pulled away. You turned your head to look at him, a smirk pressed on his face.

He pumped his dick three times before guiding himself inside you. 

A sharp breath caught in your throat. Your eyes widened at the familiar intrusion as he slowly filled you, every inch making your body tense before gradually giving way. Not that you weren't used to Sukuna, but every time he pushed inside it still sent a sudden shock through you, that brief moment of adjustment making your fingers tighten against the sheets.

“Ohh, baby….” you moaned, pressing yourself harder into the pillows while shifting your thighs upward, spreading them further to give him more room. 

Maybe it was because the place felt so empty. Maybe it was because everything around felt artificial. Whatever the reason, the need to be close suddenly felt stronger than usual. 

Too impatient to give either of you much time to think, Sukuna immediately set a steady rhythm of thrusts. A low groan escaped him as one hand remained anchored on your lower back, keeping you close while the other traveled upwards to unclasp your bra. The garment slipped away seconds later, his touch lingering before that same hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you there as if he couldn't bear to put any distance between the two of you. 

Sukuna kept thrusting, his pace slowly losing whatever restraint he had before, each movement growing rougher and more desperate than the last.

Unable to stay pressed against the pillows any longer, you pushed yourself upright until your back rested against his chest. One hand found its way to his neck before tangling into his hair, holding on for support as the uneven rhythm of your breaths mixed together.

“You feel good…”

Sukuna was pounding into you when he abruptly pushed your body forward, the force making him slip out and leaving you feeling suddenly empty. He climbed onto the bed sideways, his legs facing the phone’s camera.

Immediately, you knew what to do. 

You moved over, spreading your legs on either side of him as you sat on top. From the vanity mirror, you could see both yourself and him beneath you. 

Settling into a steady rhythm, you found your pace. The knot in your stomach tightened little by little, each movement making it harder to focus on anything else. Around you, the lights continued their low flickering, the cold air of the furniture store contrasting sharply with the heat building between your bodies. Both of your noises mixed together, uneven breaths and quiet sounds filling the otherwise empty room. It made it easier to forget where you were.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Sukuna groaned. His hands snaked over to your breasts, fondling them. He had once jokingly called them his “personal stress balls,” though judging by the way he looked at you now, there was nothing particularly humorous about it.

A shaky laugh almost escaped you before it dissolved into another breathless sound.

The longer it went on, the more restraint seemed to leave him.

“Babe…” you whined, pressing your nails on his pectorals, leaving tiny scratches that would fade by morning. “I’m going to cum soon…”

Something flashed across his face at the confession. His grip tightened. He pulled away again, forcing a frustrated sound from your throat before guiding you onto your back. In one swift motion, he lifted your hips and repositioned himself, wasting little time before pulling you close again. Sukuna groaned loudly, any remaining restraint disappearing as his pace became increasingly relentless.

“I’m about to—” you cried out, the words breaking apart before you could even finish them.

“Cum with me.” he whispered into your ear, his voice rough and husky.

The request sounded less like an order and more like a plea. Something in his tone sent a shiver through you.

His grip tightened instinctively, holding you closer as if putting distance between the two of you was physically impossible. Every uneven breath, every sound, every desperate movement seemed to blur together until there was nothing left beyond the overwhelming need for each other.

The two of you came apart at the same time.

For several seconds neither of you could do anything except breathe. Both breaths came uneven and ragged. Sukuna practically collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest pressing against your back as he struggled to catch his breath, his forehead resting briefly against your shoulder.

He placed a kiss on your cheek, sweat still dripping down his forehead.

“You stink.” you murmured against the pillows.

“Like you smell any better.”

The two of you chuckled at the meaningless exchange.

Sukuna painfully moved off you and sat besides you, his back pressed on the headboard. “Wish I had a cig right now.” 

“You think this place has showers? I could go for one right now.” 

Sukuna sighed, getting off the bed and tossing your clothes back to you before grabbing his own and pulling them on. “Here, put these on before the others come. And no, I don't think so. Well, I haven't seen any, but if I did I'm definitely thinking about doing a part two for this.” 

He grabbed the phone from the top of the dresser, clicking the red button to stop the recording before walking back over to the bed. “Uhhh, I'll edit it later.”

Opening the gallery, he gave the video a quick review before making any major changes, like blurring out both your faces.

“Okay...” you lazily reached across the bed, grabbing your clothes and painfully pulling them back on. “You know, next time you don't have to be so rough.”

He paused the video and looked up, giving you a warm smile. “Sorry, angel.” he resumed the footage.

You cuddled against his side and closed your eyes, enjoying the chance to rest. For the first time in hours, neither of you were walking. Neither of you were searching. Neither of you were worrying about endless hallways or where the others had gone off to. 

The buzzing lights in the background seemed to grow louder and louder. 

Sukuna went quiet for a second, then asked, “Wait... what is that...?” his voice was softer now, kinda confused.

You opened one eye.

Sukuna brought the phone closer to his face and increased the brightness. “Hey babe, do you see this thing?” he shook your shoulder and flipped the screen to you.

Blinking away your exhaustion, you squinted at the footage. “No...? Is there supposed to be something?”

Sukuna frowned. His finger tapped a specific spot on the screen. “Right here in the corner. Doesn't the background look weird to you?”

You looked again, harder this time. The footage showed a dark hallway splitting into three directions: forward, left, and right. There was nothing unusual, at least nothing you could see.

“No. I don't see anything. What do you see?”

His expression slowly shifted. Curiosity. Confusion. Concern. Without answering, he stood up from the bed.

“Ryo?”

With his phone in hand, he began walking towards that same darkened corner visible in the recording. His figure disappeared into the shadows.

“Babe, come back here. There's nothing over there.” you lazily waved a hand, your face still pressed against the cheap cotton sheets.

No answer came. For a few seconds everything was silent. Then suddenly a loud terrifying scream. The sound echoed throughout the furniture store. 

Every hair on your body stood upright. A wave of nausea rolled through your stomach.

“Sukuna!” you sat upright immediately. The right part of your brain fought to take control. It was probably a joke, a prank. It wouldn't have been the first time your boyfriend decided to mess with you after sex.

“Ryomen, come back here!”

Nothing, only the noise of the ceiling lamps now becoming louder than before. 

The furniture store remained perfectly still. Tentatively, you climbed off the bed slowly. Each step felt heavier than the last as you approached the same darkened corner he had disappeared into. The shadows grew larger.

“Ryo, stop that. This isn't funny.” your voice came out smaller than intended. Your heart pounded violently against your ribs.

As you reached the doorway, your steps faltered, stopping before it. You tried your best to peer through the darkness, trying to find him, trying to hear something, anything, but there was nothing there. 

“Ryo... please come back. This isn't funny...” the bedsheet remained clutched tightly around your body as though it could somehow protect you.

Taking a shaky breath, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself, trying your best to feel brave and step into the hallway. The darkness swallowed you almost immediately.

“Ryo... where are you?” your voice echoed into the corridor.

Still no answer from him.

From somewhere behind you a sound. A horrible screeching noise. Getting closer. The movements were fast, too fast. 

Your heart stopped. Spinning around, you caught a glimpse of something illuminated by the distant lights of the furniture store. It was a tall dark shape. Its limbs seemed to bend in ways they shouldn't. And it was charging directly at you.

You opened your mouth and screamed. The thing lunged, and everything went dark.

Dividers by: @\somebitchprobably-graphicdump

It’s unnerving. The flapping of wings in the pit of your stomach is exchanged for a more ill-seated churning when Satoru leaves and Sukuna takes his place. Yesterday when you didn’t have the gumption to ask how the hell this arrangement was meant to work, you might have called it nerves, but by only day two, it’s just frustrating.

The brute glances up from whoever he’s texting, visibly fiddling with his lip ring that shifts each time his jaw ticks.

You meet his gaze from behind your phone, dropping the device from your gaze when he doesn’t waiver.

“Do you mind?”

His head tilts an inch, his chin raised just enough that his smirk feels condescending. “Not at all.”

You can’t decide whether you prefer Sukuna when the weather in his world is stormy or when it’s sunny and he’s amused. They’re a different brand of asshole.

“You know, asking you for help was pretty fucking hard to do in the first place,” you begin, frustrated with the theatrics of your co-worker. His brow cocks as you pin him in place with your words. “So I’d appreciate it if you stopped making me feel weird about it.”

His lips press into a thin line, any hint of amusement fading. “Look,” he begins with equal frustration. “I’m not trying to make you feel weird for asking for help. I don’t give a shit how you learn about what we sell, even if it’s because of Satoru. I told you that from the start. If you want someone’s instruction, whatever. That’s fine.” He pushes up off the counter, all six-foot-something of him towering over you. “You’re allowed to ask questions about sex, especially here. But you knew from the start what I’m like.”

The demeanor he carries himself with that gives you the sense he thinks he’s above not just you, but everyone, still simmers under his skin. You can see it in the way he carries himself, like that egotistical mindset never fades.

But you can’t be upset when he’s honest with you, and open too in the subject that makes your stomach flutter. His words aren’t comforting, but they settle your frustration and nerves. Something in the way he’s direct and has nothing to hide reminds you why you ever asked him in the first place.

Pushing his fingers back through his hair, he shakes his head. “Why not just tell Satoru you don’t have experience?”

Your shoulders rise and fall as you face him. “It’s not…” You sigh, your gaze falling. “Just about Satoru.”

“Then what’s it about? What’s getting to you so much that you asked me?”

Running your tongue over your lower lip, you worry it in between your teeth. When it takes you a moment too long to reply, Sukuna grunts questioningly again, pushing for an answer.

“I just…” you stall, scratching your shoulder. “I shouldn’t still be a virgin at this age, right?”

Somewhere under all of that snide overconfidence is a man who was raised right, in spite of all of his shortcomings and his belittling behaviour. His nose scrunches, his head shaking from side to side in short, disbelieving movements. “What? Who fucking cares, that’s your choice.” Then, something else dawns on him as he starts up again before you can answer. “Wait. You’re a virgin?”

“See, it does matter! And whether it’s Satoru, or any other guy, they’re just gonna think I’m a prude or something because I haven’t–”

Running a hand over the faint stubble along his chin, his jaw briefly hangs open as he listens to your retort. When you keep going, at last he interrupts. “No, it doesn’t matter.” He pauses, pinning you in place with adamance. “The reason I’m asking is because I want to make sure you actually want to do this shit with me,” he states plainly, no amount of teasing present in the serious gaze he fixes you with. “I’m not fucking around when it comes to boundaries and consent.”

As much as his condescension and total righteousness is frustrating, you can appreciate his ability to be serious when there’s a need. At least he has a couple of redeeming qualities under all of those layers of snide narcissism.

Shutting your eyes as you try to formulate an answer, you give a short shake of your head. “Look,” you sigh, waving a hand through the air as your lashes flutter. “I don’t know what possessed me to choose you,” you begin, earning a snide huff from the other party, “but I wanna do this. I’ve tried dating apps and things but I feel like it’s so hard to meet people organically and I finally found someone I really like, so I just don’t wanna mess things up with Satoru, okay?” Your shoulders hang as his expression remains largely unreadable.

Your closing remark has your co-worker dragging his hands down his face. When he finally drops them to his sides with a plop as they hit the denim of his jeans, he gives a haphazard shrug. “All this for that asshole,” he mutters. “Why start with an arrangement like this, anyway? Why not go to the bar if you’re so against dating apps? It’s not like some one night stand means anything either.”

You grimace. “I want someone I trust.”

He won’t admit it, but it’s humbling to a man like Sukuna. Not because he doesn’t think of himself as trustworthy, but because he’s given you no real reason to put so much of your trust in him. He’s been cruel from the start and only a few days ago was reminding you that no matter your deal, you aren’t friends.

He’s still for a long time, a genuine disgruntled frown unrelenting. 

“Fine,” he gruffs at last. “For the record though, Satoru wouldn’t care that you’re a virgin. If he did, he’d be a piece of shit.”

If only your mind would wrap itself around that concept. Twenty some-odd years on an earth that treats virginity– particularly at your age– as taboo has taught you otherwise.

“Oddly insightful from you.”

Displeased as you throw snide commentary back at him, he takes another step forward. “No matter what you think of me, I wasn’t raised wrong.” His tone is low, almost dangerous, and you’re surprised when warmth spreads to the pit of your stomach. You’re grateful he’s already turned back to his laptop as you find yourself blinking at nothing in particular. “What did you want to try anyway? And you’re buying, FYI. This is for you, not me.”

You hum thoughtfully as you find yourself staring between the gaps in the shelves at the far end of the story. Your gaze briefly stops upon reaching the vibrators, which feels like a fairly low barrier of entry. 

“A vibrator?” You query.

Sukuna, leaning over the counter on his elbows with his back facing you, rolls a muscle in his shoulder. “Sure.”

His lack of enthusiasm has you grimacing. “We get an employee discount, right?”

“Half-off.”

“That’s pretty good,” you comment in an attempt to make conversation as you slip out from the counter and walk to the wall to look over options.

He hums his agreement, typing as his eyes skim whatever project he’s working on.

Taking the hint, you let your attention drift back to the wall of silicone and plastic. Although there are a variety of different options, you’d made up your mind a while ago upon hearing Sukuna’s explanation.

With a small black bullet vibrator in a discreet box with a purple-blue gradient in-hand, you make your way back to the counter, setting it aside. Whether out of curiosity or a subconscious movement, Sukuna’s attention flips to you as he evaluates the box on the counter. He languidly shoots you a glance before you fall into nothing more than background noise for him once again. You don’t get much of an idea of his thoughts on your choice, if he has any.

And much like his silence on your choice, that’s how you spend the evening, aside from when he teaches you to close. Over the past month or so you’ve grown to find the dead air less and less uncomfortable and no longer feel the need to fill it. He still shoots you a disapproving side eye every time a customer asks a question that’s left to your anti-social co-worker because you can’t answer it, but it’s noticeably less harsh.

By, like, a fraction. He’s irritated still, but he’s not outright disappointed. 

You call that a win.

You’re pretty sure your friends back home would call it sad.

But you can’t talk to Yuki or Choso about your arrangement with Sukuna anyway, so you suppose it’s not worth thinking too hard about it.

By the time you’re flipping the open sign and turning the lock on the door, Sukuna is ringing up the vibrator you chose, along with a bottle of something you didn’t add. He slides the payment terminal towards you as you make your way back. You don’t question his judgement upon finding the label to say toy cleaner. With your card in-hand, you find yourself hovering hesitantly over the payment terminal.

The question atop your tongue feels stupid.

“What?” Sukuna gruffs when you don’t speak your mind.

“Is this… a good choice?”

He sucks in a breath, measured. “It’s a fine first choice. It’s kinda cheap, but it’s a good starting point.”

“I know the quality and how long it’ll last would be affected, but does how cheap it is affect much beyond those two things?”

Another breath, but it’s equally measured. He picks up the box, his gaze darting across the lettering that covers it. “If it was your only toy, I’d say to invest in something better, but if we’re trying a lot, cheap is fine.” His mild expression seems to pick you apart when you’re faced with sanguine irises that flicker across your face. There’s the faintest hint of an upward quirk of his lips when he catches your pout.

“You never actually answered my question,” you mumble snarkily, snatching the box back from him.

No longer tempering his amusement, he shifts to the other foot with a full-blown smirk. “It’s a cheaper plastic or silicone. Less durable, the motor inside will give out quicker, and the battery won’t last as long. It’s louder than more expensive ones, too.” He glances at the box, a thoughtful narrow to his eyes. “It probably runs on watch batteries, which get expensive the more you go through.”

You recall him mentioning that to a customer, but given the circumstance, you suppose he’s right that it won’t matter. Nodding, you tap your card without another thought. He takes a bit of extra time to show you the remaining closing procedures which feels less like a courtesy and more like a curse given that you run on his clock at his will now, but you suppose a couple of extra hours won’t hurt here and there.

Even if you won’t be paid.

Shutting off the lights at the back, you make your way to the door where he waits. “So,” you start, digging through your bag for your keys, “my place is pretty noisy, should we–”

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, uh– I’m next to the station on third street.”

“Good. Meet me at the pub on the corner.”

You blink as he tosses you the store keys, barely managing to catch them in clumsy fingers. Before you can even protest, he’s already getting into the old but well-maintained black Honda across the street.

“O-kay,” you mutter to yourself, turning back to the door as you pull down the security shutter, locking both it and the glass door. His engine has already rumbled long into the distance by the time you finish fiddling with the old finicky locks and get in your beat-up vehicle. “You have to wait for me anyway, asshole.” Your muttering somehow feels better left for the world to hear rather than internalized.

The ride to the coffee shop has you once again replaying every life decision that brought you to this point in life. Maybe you should have given time to that guy who was trying to flirt with you in the library. Then again, you were studying for your final. Maybe you should have indulged the man who told you that you were pretty at a karaoke bar once. Well, no, he was creepy.

You’ve just been focusing on yourself and your fingers have done the trick anytime you were horny.

Not to mention, you can’t help but find that you don’t see yourself in porn and it doesn’t leave you feeling satisfied. That’s not even beginning to mention that much of what you found feels performative, which doesn’t cut it at an adult shop.

Though, that’s a lie too. Because at the end of the day although you are curious and this is something that you’re intrigued by given your environment lately, you’re equally hoping to impress Satoru.

Maybe Sukuna’s right that you should just tell him.

But that also feels like an uphill battle.

Stupid. This whole thing has you feeling like you’re overthinking everything and in an effort to stop thinking so damn much, you shut your car off and push into the pub.

Sukuna’s sitting in a booth at the back, already nursing a drink in one hand. His opposite arm is lazily strewn across the back of the booth, his gaze following you with that striking intensity that never fails to make your hair stand on end. Slipping in across from him, you watch as he leans back, completely at ease. As much as his arrogance can piss you off, his ability to remain calm and even puts out any fires your nerves threaten to stoke.

“Want anything?” He asks, jutting his chin towards the drink menu. Curiously, you flip to the first page before Sukuna’s hand comes down authoritatively, stopping you from browsing the menu he just offered. He flips to the back page confidently. “Non-alcoholic only.”

Fixing him with a scowl, you point towards his drink. “What are you drinking, then?”

He slides it an inch closer to you, an offer to test him. “Non-alcoholic IPA.” He lifts his hand from the menu, finally allowing you to browse your options as he leans back again. “We have rules to go over. Need your head on right and your consent after.”

As much as you don’t appreciate his commanding nature, you can admit it settles your nerves that he’s taking this seriously. He’s so flippant and dismissive when he wants to be that the soberness with which he’s treating the situation is reassuring.

In fact, it’s even a little hot, as much as you don’t even want to so much as think of the compliment. Truthfully though, you appreciate that he knows when to turn the damn attitude down.

Inhaling slowly, you look over the menu, waiting for the waiter to arrive. You order a Pepsi just for the sake of having something to hold and hide your fiddling as Sukuna’s gaze scarcely departs you.

“I thought we went over the rules already?” You ask when you finally have something to focus on. The condensation is cool against your fingers, a much-needed departure from the facetious personality across from you.

“Of the agreement, sure.” He starts, bringing his glass to his lips as he leans back casually. “But I’m not doing this without knowing what you want.”

“I thought I–”

He doesn’t give you the time of day, glass still held between his fingers as he leans forward on his forearm. “You want me in charge, yeah?”

You blink, nodding. 

“You understand that that puts me in a dominant position for our agreement, correct?”

Your cheeks warm as you nod again. “That’s kinda what I wanted,” you admit quietly.

He hums, a hint of his teeth gleaming behind a smirk. He lets the moment hang a second longer, basking in the way you squirm under his gaze. Throwing back what’s left of his drink, he sets the glass on the table with a dull clank. “Right,” he begins, “so you’ve never been with anyone before?” He asks, growing more serious again.

His ability to casually swing back and forth between both moods is beginning to piss you off.

“Yeah, you know that,” you reply snarkily.

His eyes narrow. “Not what I mean, sweetheart. You ever done anything with anyone? In any capacity?”

You chew on your lip briefly. “I gave a guy a handjob once,” you admit quietly, painfully aware of the public setting.

Sukuna’s eyes avert for a moment as he considers how to approach things. “That's it?”

“I– Yeah, can you stop asking?”

His throat bobs as he swallows, frowning. He lays his thoughts out plainly, straight to the point and without the arrogant attitude. “Think what you want of me, but I’m not trying to embarrass you. I already told you it doesn’t matter. I’m asking because it gives me a good sense of where to start.”

Sitting upright, you nod slowly.

“Do you masturbate?”

With every question, you swear your face gets warmer. “Yeah.”

“But no toys?”

“No.”

He rolls his jaw, prodding his tongue against the side of his mouth. “Alright. I can work with that. Do you know what you like when you touch yourself?”

“Do we have to do this somewhere so public?”

He snorts. “No one’s listening. The closest table is so sloshed you’d think it’s three in the morning,” he points out, motioning over your shoulder. Admittedly, he’s right. There’s a group of three women and two men all slumped over, eyes red-ringed and laughter bubbling from within. 

With a sigh, you turn back to him. “Fine. So what rules do we need to go over, then?”

“I need to know what’s completely off-limits for you.” He taps a finger once on the table. “I’m kinky but there’s shit I’m not into either.”

“Okay, um,” you take a moment to consider the toys lining the walls and some of the porn you’ve seen while browsing. “I don’t know, I guess I don’t think I’d be into whips or spanking.” Sukuna hums. “I know the candles are for… wax play, right?”

“Mhm. Some people like the pain.”

“I don’t think I would want anything painful.”

He nods his agreement. “Anything like that is off the table.”

Tapping your nails along the sides of your glass, you wrack your brain of the items that line the walls at work. “I don’t think I’m into collars or muzzles or anything.”

“Alright. No pet play. You not into being tied up, or just the pet part?”

Your hesitation is brief as you consider the difference. “I think I’d be okay with being tied up,” you muse. “Not yet, but–” you shrug, cracking a smile. “It sounds kinda fun.”

Sukuna smirks. “She’s a little kinky, I like it.” His lidded expression sends heat up the back of your neck and straight to the pit of your stomach. You adjust the way you’re seated, crossing one leg over the other as you focus on the glass in front of you. Amused, your counterpart pushes for details. “What about gags, handcuffs, and blindfolds?”

“I’d be open to those.”

His smirk grows, teeth bared just enough to call it a grin. “Alright. No whips, and pet and pain play are past the ceiling. Anything more intense than that’s off the table, yeah?”

You nod, grateful that he isn’t leaving you to try to come up with things when you’re scarcely familiar with the products at your own job.

“Hair pulling? Choking?”

You take a moment to consider it, but nod. “That’s fine.”

That seems to be the majority of his questions as he leans back in his seat again, stretching his arms overhead. He has that same expression from the day you originally made the agreement, the one that makes you feel like you’re no longer background noise in his world. Like you’ve surprised him and he’s willing to humor you.

“Alright. Anything else we can go over if it comes up,” he shrugs. “I just needed a baseline.” Yawning, he takes a moment to let his thoughts settle as he works out details in his mind. It gives you a moment to reset, gratefully taking the opportunity as you lean back in your seat, no longer fixated on your glass.

It occurs to you in that moment that he’s surprisingly quelled your nerves. You can’t place whether it’s through making a point of doing this in a public setting but ensuring this stays between you, or the way he’s actually maneuvering this conversation in a way that makes you feel open and in charge. Either way, you have to hand it to him that for a guy who’s made it clear he isn’t fond of people, he’s good with them. With you.

He spends a moment thinking things through before at last continuing. “Are you familiar with the traffic light safe word system?”

You meet his gaze, shaking your head.

“I need you to understand that even if I’m the dom, your word is my law. You tell me green and you leave shit in my hands to make you feel good. You tell me yellow and we’ll stop for a bit to figure out what you don’t like or what doesn’t feel good. You tell me red and my hands are off of you. What you say goes, you understand?” He leans forward with an intensity that seeps straight to your bones.

“Okay. I understand.”

“Good.” His shoulders rise and fall as he sucks in a breath, letting it out gradually. “And for the record, no kissing. No making out. No sex.”

As he repeats his rules, you press your lips into a thin line at how much he loves to remind you that you aren’t friends and these aren’t benefits. “You mentioned.”

“I’ll take my shirt off if it makes you comfortable, but that’s all you’re getting from me.”

“How sweet,” you comment dryly as he completely ignores your previous retort.

He grins, shrugging like the chivalrous man he is. “You didn’t ask for love, sweetheart.”

“And if I had?”

His grin stays in place, his chin lifting an inch as he regards you with the kind of expression only someone as conceited as Sukuna himself can manage. “Then you’d be switching to morning shifts.”

You want to roll your eyes, but you can at least respect his honesty, even if it’s painfully self-centered. You suppose it’s in part why trust comes easily with him. It’s not out of respect or friendship, but rather the simple fact that he doesn’t sugarcoat things. For better or for worse, he means what he says and has nothing to hide.

Jutting his chin in a motion to your nearly-finished glass, he keeps that painfully smug expression as he gruffs out a question. “Ready to go?”

Downing the last of your drink, you nod as you make your way to the bartender. She rings up your drinks together, only for Sukuna to step aside for you to pay.

Chivalry might just be dead, after all.

Your counterpart shoves his hands into his pockets with a haughty smirk, watching every micro expression cross your face as realization tents your brow, before twisting into a glare. Sukuna’s gait is entirely casual as his boots hit the pavement outside. When he comes to a halt by his car, his hand settles on the roof. “Send me your address,” are his last words before he ducks into the driver’s seat. The engine rumbles on and his music begins in an instant, a booming bassline that’s faintly familiar, but it’s too muffled to make out.

Sucking in a breath, you let the music fade as you head for your car, sending him your address just around the corner. You take an extra moment to make it to your car, breathing in the cool summer night air. The ever-present murky smell of smog hits you the moment the sharp scent of alcohol dissipates, but you’ve grown accustomed to it by now. The air on your skin is refreshing, and gives you a moment to think.

In spite of his frustrating tendencies, Sukuna treats sex– in all forms– differently from the men you’re used to. Not just men, but everyone. Even your closest friends. It’s not an expectation, it’s not something that requires any pressure. It’s whatever you want it to be, and whatever you’re comfortable with.

You appreciate the fact that in spite of you wanting him to take charge, this is all still at your beck and call. Sukuna says everything like it is. As much as you despise that for how plainly he’ll point out any fault the moment he finds it or throw you under the bus in a heartbeat when he sees himself as a man who’s always in the right, you appreciate the fact that he doesn’t make things into a spectacle either.

How many parties have you been to where ‘never have I ever’ turned into a wave of judgement, or a game where you found yourself lying to avoid it? How many times have you avoided parties altogether, hating the way all concepts surrounding you seemed to change over something that shouldn’t be everything it’s so often perceived as?

Hell, growing up in an era where sex was perceived as something cool and sold to adults through media only to be thrust into a new era where censorship is pushed more than education, it was bound to twist the perception around virginity.

Your own insecurity is an unfortunate side effect of those two very things clashing with one another. Just like your insecurity in the impression you’ve given Satoru, regardless of if you’ve actually spoken to him or not.

Which is why Sukuna’s attitude around sex is a breath of fresh air. There’s no judgement from him that you’ve abstained for so long.

And for that, you find yourself excited as you pull up to your house.

The man in question is parked before you even arrive, standing at the brick staircase by the time you lock your vehicle. The three-story building towers overhead, yet he still looks big at the base of the stairs.

His arms are crossed as he leans back casually, eyes on his phone. The racing jacket he sports hangs heavily over his broad shoulders. It looks like a replica F1 jacket of sorts, and in spite of its large size, the muscle definition beneath the tank top clinging to his skin is still obvious. It’s almost unfair that he’s so attractive and such a dick.

Just as the thought crosses your mind, his crimson eyes lift from his phone screen. He pockets it, looking you up and down once before letting you lead the way. You pull the front gate open without a word, unlocking the inner door and shutting it to latch behind you. Your apartment resides on the second floor, a single room backing onto the subway. Convenient, but noisy as all hell.

You like to think of it as the epitome of what it means to chase your dream, but in reality you know it’s little more than measly tape to cover up the fact that it feels more like failure. You’ve only been here for a couple of months and played at a couple of crappy venues that didn’t turn out well and you aren’t about to give up now, but your apartment fails to feel like home.

When you flick the lights on, it gives a warm glow to the run-down apartment.

“Make yourself at home,” you offer of the small space. It’s nothing more than a studio with a bathroom. A kitchenette sits at your immediate left with a microwave, fridge, and a single plug-in hot-plate, while your bed is pushed into the corner at the back. You’ve managed to fit a small TV on a table in the corner, and a tiny couch beside it, but that’s about all there is to see of your small space. Wallpaper peels at the top corners and there are stains and scrapes over the old wooden floor that could very well be older than you.

You’ve done what you can with the space. Over the couch is a number of signed and framed band posters and by the TV sits a cork board with memorabilia pinned to it. Old concert ticket stubs, set lists, and guitar picks all pinned or clipped in place. A lamp sits behind the TV in the corner that makes the space feel more warm, giving light to the two gaming systems sitting under the table. It’s not perfect, but it’s very you.

As you set your keys and bag on what little counter space you have, Sukuna takes in the sight of the small space, his gaze lingering on the signed posters and memorabilia before landing on your guitar, leaning against the couch haphazardly.

“You’re a concert girl?” He queries. It’s hard to get a read on where the question comes from when his tone lacks any real interest or enthusiasm.

“When I could afford it,” you agree with a wry laugh.

He hums, kicking his shoes off and dropping his jacket beside your guitar on the couch. He plops down on the double bed, picking up a drumstick sat on the small night stand wedged between the bed and the tiny table the TV sits atop. He twirls it on a finger as he continues to look around while you fiddle with the box for the bullet vibrator you got, picking at the tape keeping it shut.

Like a sixth sense, your hair stands on-end when his striking gaze settles on you again. He continues to fiddle with the drumstick, but his expression is otherwise unreadable. His slightly narrowed gaze gives you the idea that something is on his mind. “What?”

“Just thinking,” he mutters, his gaze dropping the full length of your body again.

Standing still at the counter, you chew on the inside of your cheek as he checks you out. Or something similar to that. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew this question would arise. A part of you had hoped to avoid it, but given the nature of your agreement with Sukuna, the question doesn’t bother you as much as it might from someone else.

“I won’t be offended, you know.”

The drumstick stills in Sukuna’s fingers. “About what?”

“If you ask.”

“Can you be fucking direct?” He sneers, his eyes narrowed to pinpricks as he fixes you with the kind of gaze that would have made your skin crawl a month ago. Back then, you would have taken it for genuine frustration, but you know now that this is a man who finds pleasure in the fact that one look can make someone avert their gaze.

But you don’t budge, turning to face him with the bullet vibe in-hand. “You wanna know why I’m still a virgin if I’m open enough to ask you for this arrangement.”

You can’t blame him. You get the feeling you’re a year or two older than him based on the fact that you graduated already and he’s in his last year. Your reply even seems to intrigue him as he leans forward just enough to show interest. You have his attention, although he doesn’t say it. He may not judge you for it, but you certainly can’t blame him for being curious. After all, your request was a bold one in the first place.

With a sigh, you set the toy on the counter as you manage to free it from its packaging. “You know how I told you I’m from a small town?”

“Mhm.”

“How small do you think I meant?”

He shrugs, having clearly never considered the question. “Ten thousand,” he throws out a haphazard guess.

“Four hundred people.”

His nose wrinkles at the mere thought. Fitting for a guy who seems well-versed in navigating life in a massive city.

“So my options kinda sucked with guys my age,” you laugh dryly, returning to the counter where you set the toy down. You turn to him suddenly, a finger held out pointedly towards his chest. “Don’t even get me started on the older men.”

He snorts, barely more than a push of air from his nostrils that gives way to his amusement.

“It was one of those roadside attraction towns where our whole thing was like,” you wave a hand through the air, looking for the right words to describe it. “Having one of those weird statues or whatever that people will pull over to see.”

“Yeah? So what weird thing did you have, then?”

You crack a smile. “The world’s largest garden gnome.”

He blinks in disbelief, in sudden understanding of the whole situation. One single garden gnome painting a whole picture of who you are and how you grew up. “Damn. That blows.” There’s something so strangely friendly in the interaction that’s unbefitting of everything he is, but for a moment you forget this is Sukuna you’re speaking with.

You laugh. “Yeah. It’s not even the world’s largest anymore from what I’ve been told. So now we’re the ‘original’,” you make finger quotations in the air, “world’s largest garden gnome.”

He snorts again, pushing a hand back through his hair. “No wonder you like punk music. You did need to get out of your town.”

You surprise even yourself at how heartily you laugh. When he’s not being a stick-in-the-mud, it turns out he’s kinda funny. In fact, when he isn’t acting like he’s above you, there’s even a sort of warmth to him that you don’t mind. Whether it’s a public front and he’s dropped the curtain for a moment or he’s growing more comfortable with you is yet to be determined.

Or maybe this is like a one time event that you were lucky enough to witness.

“You must have gone to the city pretty often if you go to a lot of concerts,” he muses. “No interest in hooking up with a guy or doing this shit with someone before now?”

You frown, glancing up from the instructions on the bottle of toy cleaner as you loosely skim them. “I never really considered any of this until the shop. And I’d rather be with someone I know.”

He grunts in irritation before you even finish the first sentence, but he lets it go by the time you finish. At least his frustration with you is purely on a work level. “You don’t know me,” he points out. “You don’t know jack shit about how I am in bed and you barely know me outside of it.”

“I trust you, though.”

His gaze drifts to the floor, something stoic passing over his expression as he allows the thought to sink in. “You trust me,” he parrots dryly, for no other reason than to solidify them for himself. You open your mouth to elaborate, but he’s already talking over you before you can spit out a second word. Infuriating man. “Right. And now you want me to show you the ropes–” he pauses at the irony of his statement, a smug smirk returning to his lips. “Literally.” He stands up from your bed, tossing the drumstick aside in the midst of his amusement.

With a roll of your eyes, you stop whatever narcissistic or teasing comment was about to leave his parted lips, steering the conversation another way before he’s too frustrating to handle. “I can make a guess.”

Sukuna pauses, stepping towards you with curiosity. “About–” he raises his brows. “What I’m like? In general, or in bed?”

“Both,” you shrug. “You like to be in charge. You like to have someone who’s willing to admit that you’re better at something and you like to be mean about it. You like when people feel small around you, it makes your ego feel good like the big man that you are.”

Where you expect offense, you only find amusement, which unfortunately isn’t in your favor either. At the end of the day, he’s still running this interaction like he owns it. His head tilts, his grin unrelenting. The way the muscle shirt he sports clings to his chest as it rises and falls feels unfair. He’s a tease without trying, all because he has the fortune of being hot. “Oh?” His voice comes low, a grit to it that sends heat between your thighs. “Are we guessing, or psychoanalyzing?”

You shrug. “It can be whatever you want.”

His gaze flickers around your face as you move past him to the spot where he was just seated. The amusement laced through sanguine eyes as he watches you sits under your skin in the kind of way that has you grimacing. The way he picks you apart so effortlessly is a shadow compared to the pile of things about him that frustrate you, but you hate the way it gets under your skin.

He has no issues making himself at home either, moving his jacket aside so he can manspread obnoxiously on the couch across from your bed. Your brows tent downwards as he doesn’t hesitate to reach for your guitar either, as though he knows that, too, will get under your skin. “Here, I’ll move that.”

You dart towards him, picking the instrument up before his fingers can graze the neck, setting in on the stand it should have been on anyway. His brow quirks, head tilting as he watches your every movement. The way he moves through life so easily is grating.

When you take a seat again across from him on your bed, you tap your foot a couple of times on the worn wood below. It sounds hollow, even beneath your clothed feet. “So… What should we do?” You query, praying you can find a rhythm with him that makes everything more comfortable.

A smile curls at the corners of his lips. “I told you. You’re–”

His words come to a quick halt, expression twisting into disbelief and clear concern as your apartment rattles briefly, before the obvious noise of the subway passing behind the building follows, and the room settles as it comes to a stop. Unphased, you await his next words.

“You fucking live with that?”

You shrug. “Yeah. I uh– didn’t really realize it would be an issue until I moved in.”

A puff of air leaves his nose, his eyes trailing between you and the window where the train’s shadow cast across the floor moments ago. “How the fuck do you sleep? The subways run all night.”

“They’re less frequent at night,” you offer.

“How the fuck do you get off with that noise?”

Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you shrug. “It’s just background noise.”

Sukuna hangs in a state of disbelief for a moment, crimson boring into you like even he’s questioning how the fuck he got here now. When the moment settles, he runs his tongue over his teeth and shakes his head, muttering a curse under his breath. “You’re something.”

“Thanks,” you reply dryly. The nerves of opening yourself up to someone buzz more as you draw Sukuna’s attention away from the train. Your leg bounces involuntarily, a hollow thump to it as you wait for a reply to your question, no matter how snarky it’ll inevitably be.

But the arrogance never comes. His eyes flicker down to your leg, the previous curl of his lips gone and replaced with something far more staid. With a hand on the couch’s armrest, he moves across the small room with ease, his large frame casting a long shadow over the floor as he blocks the lamplight. Your heart pumps hard against its cage, jumping to your throat when his palm settles on your leg, pressing it to the hardwood to stop its pace.

“Relax.” His voice has a sultry tone that feels foreign to you yet lived-in, like he knows just how to pitch his voice to send it like a shock straight to your stomach. You shift at the sensation, drawn to his gaze as he leans in with a brazen chuckle, clearly pleased that he can affect you in such a way. “Stop talking. Stop thinking. About all of this shit. About me, about the job, the money, the train. Turn your brain off.”

He’s right, painfully so, about every little thing on your mind. But the most relief you usually get is a warm cup of tea on a cool night, and even then it’s disturbed by a train every few minutes. It’s not like you haven’t masturbated, particularly since starting at the shop, but your brain always seems to need something to latch onto and porn feels so performative you can’t get into it.

Sukuna gives you something to focus on, taking the bullet vibrator from within your fidgeting hands as his other hand glides from your thigh to your torso over your shirt. His thumb frames your breast, the sensation sending a shiver straight up your spine. He uses just enough force that you could call the pressure he uses to guide you back onto your bed a ‘suggestion’ rather than a command.

“Give me a color.”

“Green.”

“Good,” he hums, low and smug as you watch his smirk grow into something painfully self-assured and egotistical as he flashes his teeth. You don’t have time to be annoyed when your lashes are already fluttering as he drags the bullet vibrator in his palm over your clothed pussy with just enough pressure that your breath catches. “And it’s not even on yet,” he purrs in that ever-condescending tone.

“I should have asked someone less–”

He grinds the vibrator against your clit in an effort to stifle your attitude, shooting you a smug smirk when it works. “But you didn’t.”

Your scowl barely has a chance to form before it dissipates as he glides a thumb beneath your shirt. The sensation has you shivering as he scrutinizes every micro expression you make when his thumb glides over the sensitive skin of your bare stomach. Goosebumps rise in its stead, inevitable as your body reacts to the sensation. You jolt when his touch is so feather-light that it feels more ticklish than something sensual, and like everything else he picks it up and files it away for later.

When he stops at your hipbone and dips two fingers beneath your waistband, you instinctively suck in a breath, stiffening. His movement pauses, eyes narrowing as he fixes you with a sharp gaze that you recognize as instruction.

“Green,” you breathe.

Something smug in his expression has you swallowing your pride at the realization that submission came easily. He’s too keen to have not noticed how you’re not running your mouth anymore, and you don’t need to read between the lines to know that he enjoys that fact.

With your consent, two fingers drag your pants down, haplessly discarded as his gaze trails the length of your legs slowly. You can’t make out what he’s thinking, your hair standing on end as some part of you longs for warmth in a partner who might revere you, but that isn’t what you asked for. It’s not who Sukuna is.

When his eyes meet yours, they narrow an ounce. “Stop worrying,” he admonishes the thoughts he seems to be able to sense as though your insecurities are written in the air for him to see. It warms your cheeks further than they already are. When he catches the twitch of your brow, whether it’s a tell that he’s correct or some bratty form of defiance, he brings a hand to your jaw, his thumb and finger forcing you to keep his gaze. “I’m serious. Bodies are all different, and–”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, Suku–”

His thumb and finger shift until he’s pressing your cheeks together to shut up your protests. “Everyone is different. You should be. Stop fucking worrying.” He loosens his grip enough to allow you to nod, no longer pursing your lips. “Focus on my hands. Focus on the feeling. Don’t think about the fucking train that’s gonna pass in three minutes. Don’t distract yourself.”

He releases your face, shifting his hand until he’s prodding your abdomen pointedly with a finger. He waits for your gaze to follow before continuing.

“Masturbation is one thing because you know exactly what you want and can make yourself finish quickly, but bringing another person into things changes how your body and brain work.” He moves his hand back to the bed as he leans over you, watching with a faint smirk as the other hand presses the small vibrator, still off, into your clit and you take in a sharp breath. “If you get distracted by all the dumb shit going through your head and don’t stay focused on how you’re feeling, your body won’t let you cum. You’ll go straight into overstimulation without orgasm, or your body just won’t respond. It’s common as shit and a lot of people don’t think they can cum with a partner.”

You blink at how strangely insightful and educational the tattooed prick can actually be. Your shoulders fall into the mattress as you focus on the pressure of the hard silicone pressed into your clothed pussy.

There’s another side to it as well that has your mind ready to reel into something far more tangential, as much as you know you should listen to his advice. The fact is that the very same man who told you not to expect love or care from him is sitting here reassuring you, all the while explaining to you just how much he understands the human body. It’s not just from a biological or fact-driven perspective either, he’s putting your pleasure first.

Sure, it’s worth acknowledging that at the end of the day your arrangement does revolve around your pleasure, but Sukuna’s not just insightful. In one way or another, it’s caring. Whether he wants to acknowledge it or not, you’ve heard horror stories of men not being able to find the clit and it’s driven you further into insecurity surrounding the very concept of sex as someone with no experience.

Sukuna isn’t just skilled or good as you’re sure he’ll put it. He’s put time into this. Not just the kind that comes with being with people, but the kind that comes with research and education.

You knew he could talk about toys without batting an eye.

This is deeper.

He flicks your forehead, eyes flashing with irritation as you protest with a yelp. “What did I just tell you?”

“You’re just kinda being sweet,” you excuse yourself, blinking at him from where he’s crouched over your lower torso.

Something flashes in his eyes. “Don’t fucking mistake being good at what I do for sweetness.” His lip curls, the word dripping in disgust like the very concept is venomous to him. “Or do I need to remind you that this is a fucking deal and the moment this shit’s over you’re nothing more than my co-worker who doesn’t know fuck-all about the product?”

You let out a disbelieving scoff at the way he manages to kill the vibe entirely over what you might consider a compliment. “You’re right. You’re a dick.”

He straightens as he takes command of the situation once more, making himself look bigger as he leans over you. He shifts the reins like he owns your every reaction and can predict the situation. With a flick of his thumb, he turns the bullet vibe on, the vibration a sudden and intense sensation even over your panties. It’s a stark contrast to what your fingers feel like.

“Now stop thinking.” He drags the vibrator from your clit back across your clothed slit, your lips parting as you arch into the sensation.

“How am I supposed to focus when you’re being such an ass?” You grit in spite of the pleasure.

“Now you know why I’m good at this shit.”

He drops the attitude again as he manages to turn you on without the sensual touch or words of a partner, but rather through other methods.

Keeping a steady, albeit low vibration setting over your clit through your panties, he slips a hand under your shirt again. His thumb glides smoothly over your nipple, raising goosebumps along with his calloused touch. Sharp crimson eyes fix on the way your gaze finally shifts from his movements to the ceiling, your hands reaching for the blanket laying over the mattress. Your fingers curl into the cotton as all thoughts of insecurity and Sukuna’s attitude finally dissipate and all you’re left with is a tingling sensation that spreads warmly to your extremities.

“Thaaat’s it,” he guides you in a low tone that acts like sparks in your mind, kindling a fire that burns out whatever last thoughts served as a distraction. At last it’s just you and the sensation of his finger circling your nipple, slow and sensual as he takes the time needed to work your body up to a point where the vibrator won’t be too much.

The mattress dips as Sukuna shifts, his footsteps lost on you as the train passes by the window. It’s nothing more than background noise with your exterior senses dulled to focus only on touch. You blink at the tattooed man as the noise of the vibrator is silenced, lidded eyes watching his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.

“Color?”

You swallow hard. His gaze lowers as he watches the movement, every tiny detail catalogued as he reads your reaction.

“Green,” you reply, breathless.

He gives a nod, fixed still on your expression when he gives the first tug. On instinct your legs twitch to close, so he guides you through the nerves rather than ignoring them. “You’re good,” he gruffs. It’s not soothing, but somehow it settles a modicum of the uncertainty that comes with putting your trust in someone else in such a vulnerable way.

Once they’re over your knees, he tugs the panties off, sending them across the room.

You still can’t help instinctively trying to hide yourself from him, squeezing the blanket tighter between your fingers as the cool air of your apartment reaches your dripping core.

“You want my shirt off?”

The question hangs before you, eyes dipping down to the black muscle shirt he sports, tight over his built chest. It’s the kind of thing you would spot at a gym, but it’s just loose enough over the rest of his torso that it looks less like he’s showing off and more like he effortlessly owns the look and everyone else is just mirroring him.

Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you nod. When you meet his gaze again, it’s smug. He knows every last word that just ran through your head like he’s heard it before and the thought should piss you off, but you can’t be too bothered when he sets the vibrator on your abdomen and grabs the hem of his shirt with crossed arms. He pulls it up over his head with intention, flexing his biceps as he does so and sets it aside. Conveniently, his shirt doesn’t fly across the room.

The tattoos that curl around the sides of his neck snake over his shoulders in thick off-black lines that curve over his pecks. There are another set of bands similar to his wrists on his upper biceps and circles at his shoulders. They sharpen the persona given off by his intense egoism and dyed black hair, but they also accentuate his muscles in the kind of way that has your pupils dilating as you trail over the lines before falling to his abs.

As if that sight isn’t a show enough, at the base of his abdomen is a snail trail that you fix on just enough to earn a chuckle. It’s startlingly pink, matching the roots you spot every few weeks when they grow out.

Your hips shift as your stomach clenches at the sight. The cool air makes it obvious how turned on you are, and when you look back up, Sukuna is smirking. You’re feeding his ego more than you could know.

Satisfied with your reaction, he settles both hands on your thighs, slowly pulling them apart. Exposed to him once again, you find that action has surprisingly replaced your nerves with something far more debauched that has your mind racing.

This time, in all the right ways.

When your legs stay spread, he picks the vibrator back up, flicking it back on in one deft movement. The bed dips when he settles between your legs, dragging the vibrator through wet folds and over your clit, you arch into it with a soft moan. “Now you’re getting it,” he smirks as at last you let go of the endless stress of thoughts and give in to pleasure. “A bullet vibe is too small for much else besides placing direct pressure on the clit,” he explains as though your mind isn’t on another plane. “So it works best with other forms of stimulation.”

He keeps the small vibrator pressed directly to your clit. Your head falls back into the mattress, balling the fabric of your blankets up into your fists.

“You gotta work with me if you want this shit to work,” he continues, his hand pressing your thigh down when he adds additional pressure to the vibrator and your legs jolt shut on instinct. “What feels good?”

“I– hah–” You blink, cloudy eyes fluttering open to drag across the ceiling until they find his gaze, impossibly red and horribly smug as a moan tears your words apart. “The pressure is nice.”

“Nice?” He parrots the word, dripping in amusement. “I’m using a vibrator on you, don’t mince your words.”

You arch into the sensation in spite of his chatter, but he pulls away when you don’t reply immediately. Swallowing hard, you adjust your grip on the blankets and blink as your mind reels trying to catch up to what he wants. “It gets me a lot closer when you press it into my clit.”

He hums.

“But it’s kinda nice when you take it away too, makes the feeling l-last longer,” you stammer over the sentence when he tests your words, pulling it away for a moment. Your hips jolt, but the sensation is nice.

Vibration isn’t like your fingers. It’s far more intense and works you to the edge quicker when Sukuna knows how to maneuver the toy. “That’s called edging,” he gruffs, pulling the vibrator back as he waits for your eyes to meet his again. “This is a pretty tame form of it, but the human body wasn’t built for a vibrator so you’ll cum too fast if I don’t and it’s not as good.” You nod weakly, gaze flickering back down to the small device that he’s still holding away from your body. “Some people like being brought to the edge and coming down over and over, though. If that’s something you wanna try, that’s fine, but let me learn what you like first.”

You nod again, chewing on your lower lip as you buck your hips into his waiting hand.

He clicks his tongue, amused. “Eager.” Before you can retort with something equally cheeky, he presses the vibrator back to your clit as the stimulation curls through your body again, warm and welcome. It blossoms from your stomach to your chest until you can feel yourself teetering at the edge again, only for Sukuna to pull back. “Finger yourself.”

“What? Me?”

“You fucked stupid already?” Condescending prick. “Yeah, you. I told you, a bullet vibe works best with outside stimulation and I wanna see what you do to get off.”

You huff out a sigh, but your fingers slip from the blanket, down your body until you feel slick gather along your fingers. They’re cold, the thin windows giving way to a chill that seeps into your skin. The sensation has you sucking in a breath when they touch your skin, one finger slipping first between your folds, cool and pleasant, and then another. You work yourself open at a comfortable pace and adjust your hips until you find a rhythm and depth that feels nice, though it’s nothing compared to the vibrator.

“Could you cum just from that?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathe.

He hums in acknowledgement, pressing the vibrator with gradual pressure back into your clit. Your fingers stutter, pausing altogether. “Keep going,” he mutters. Even through the fog of bliss, you follow his instructions and keep the pace, your fingers curling into your walls as they begin to convulse around you.

Your breaths turn to soft, somewhat shy, moans with every second the vibrator spends pressed to your sensitive bundle of nerves. The world around you is fuzzy and you swear you can even hear the static that gathers at the edges of your vision. When your abdomen begins tensing and the rhythm of your fingers grows less accurate, more frantic, he uses more pressure to elicit the exact reaction he’s looking for. The sensation throws you over the edge without warning, hitting you in waves far more intense than the best orgasm with your fingers has ever given you.

As your body reacts to each wave of the orgasm, muscles clenching in time, the vibrator shifts slightly and the sensation heads straight into overstimulation. Sukuna reads the reaction and pulls away, letting you come down naturally. Your chest rises and falls heavily as you stare up at the rickety old ceiling.

Letting go and giving in entirely to the pleasure feels good. Your thoughts don’t race. There’s no constant stream of what needs to happen for the rest of the day or when you’ll head to the bar for your next gig. You’re just on cloud nine.

You feel Sukuna rise from between your legs. He moves around the apartment like he owns the place, opening the only door that doesn’t lead out without asking, and returning with a towel.

Pushing up onto your elbow, you hold out a hand expectantly, but Sukuna holds it out of reach. “No. I told you you’re not getting sweet, but I’m not leaving you without aftercare.” He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, folding the towel into something more manageable before holding it out for you to wipe your fingers on. “An arrangement like this,” he waves the folded towel haphazardly between you once you’re done with it, “means that the person in the dominant position should be helping clean up and make sure the sub is in the right headspace.” He speaks so matter-of-factly, you have a hard time believing this is the same guy who asked if you applied for the wrong job.

Tonal whiplash if you’ve ever heard it.

“If you ever have sex with someone who puts you in a submissive position and doesn’t give you aftercare, dump the prick.”

Truthfully, you’re not sure Sukuna has any right to call someone a prick, but you nod regardless. You’re not about to protest when he is cleaning you up and has gathered your panties and pants for you.

Once he’s satisfied, he sets the towel aside and pulls his shirt back over his head. He grabs you a glass of water as you cover yourself back up, and is surprisingly domestic as he checks in on you. “Feel good?”

“Yeah.”

“See what I mean when I say the bullet vibe is best with outside stimulation?”

You blink up at him from where he’s standing, a neutral expression plastered to his face as though nothing’s happened and there isn’t a tent in his pants. “Yeah, I guess.”

His eyes narrow, chin tilted up slightly. “You guess?”

“Sorry. I just don’t know what to do now.”

Unbothered, he simply nods, his gaze passing to the window as a train casts a dark shadow over the apartment, gone in a split second. He runs a hand through black strands of hair, revealing the pink at the roots before crossing his arms over his chest. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been… whatever we are, with someone.”

He snorts. “Can’t say I have either, sweetheart. Just talk with me until I know you’re back in a normal headspace. Tell me what worked and what didn’t.” He brings a hand up to his shoulder, rubbing the muscle along his back idly as he stands a short distance away.

Now fully clothed, you sit upright. “Okay.” Letting out a breath, you navigate the blissful fog still hanging over you in search of something to answer. “I appreciate that you took your shirt off,” you admit, heat climbing your spine as it curls up to your ears. You press on, grateful that he doesn’t make a big deal out of it in spite of his minute smirk. “I liked when you used pressure, but it was a lot when I came.”

He hums. “That’s overstimulation. Was it a lot in a bad way?”

Your brow knits together in thought. It was too much in the moment, but you don’t suppose you’d label it as bad. “No. Not exactly. Just too much.”

Shifting to the other foot, he considers your words. “Overstimulation is a pretty common kink. There’re a lot of people who like being pushed into that territory because it is a lot but the stimulation is also pleasurable and it can push you to cum again pretty quickly.”

“I think I saw that in some of the porn I tried watching.”

“I would say it’s one of the more common kinks in the kink community. Makes sense.”

You nod slowly, considering the sensation as you shift, your body still feeling particularly loose. “I think I’d try it.”

“Sure,” he agrees, seeming to only half pay attention when he pulls his phone out. A dim blue light illuminates the lower half of his face before he shoves it back in his pocket. “You seem good. Feeling alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. I’m leaving.” He turns abruptly on his heel, tossing his jacket over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. “Clean the vibe,” he reminds you. “And don’t use it too often. We’re not built for electronics, we’re built for fingers. It’ll fry your nerves and regular stimulation won’t feel as good.”

You nod solemnly, his advice adding up. “Wait!” You call when his hand rests atop the old door knob, the golden paint chipping away as it gives up the facade of luxury. “You don’t want anything?”

“No.”

You shake your head. “Why did you agree to this, then?”

He pauses, turning fully to face you. His gaze travels to the darkened path over the wooden floor where enough steps have been taken that the wood has physically worn away. “It’s convenient,” he offers, “having you take my shifts. It’s…” he trails off for a moment, his tongue running over his lower lip. “It’s helpful, really.”

You’re shocked at the sincerity behind the admission, like in spite of how frustrating and egocentric he can be, he feels he owes you honesty.

“But you’re right.” He lets the words hang, pools of cerise washing intensely over you as your head tilts quizzically. He blinks as he searches for the words to put his thoughts together. “Look, it pisses me off that you applied to this job in the first place, but you’re here now and Jillian likes you.” He shrugs his shoulders. “There’s fuck-all I can do about that and you should have known this shit before applying.”

Your eyes narrow as he repeats something you’re getting real sick of hearing. You can’t say you’re sure how this goes with the statement ‘you’re right’, either.

“But this shit is hard to learn if you don’t have an in.” His hand leaves the door handle with a hollow metallic clang as he takes a step towards you. He’s still across the apartment, but it bridges a gap of sorts. “Sex is treated as something you’re not supposed to talk about and kinks are taboo. So finding resources brings you to all sorts of sketchy sites or outdated books because the resources surrounding it suck.” He shrugs. “You should have a way to learn and experiment without feeling stupid for not knowing shit or for asking questions.”

“You literally called me stupid for asking a question not even ten minutes ago,” you interject.

“I didn’t call you stupid. I asked if I’d already fucked you stupid, because the question was stupid.”

You throw your hands in the air at his brazen reply, in disbelief that he can somehow manage to be simultaneously the most frustrating man on earth and unusually open and honest on topics that deserve discussion.

“It’s not stupid to ask questions about sex, or toys, or rules, or anything that makes you more comfortable. It’s not stupid to ask questions about your body or ask me to adjust to something that feels better.” He begins his clarification as though it helps at all. “It’s stupid to ask who I meant when I said ‘finger yourself’ when you’re the only other person in the room,” he snorts, amused as you shoot him a deadpan expression. “And it’s stupid as all hell to apply to a store where you don’t have any fucking clue what we sell.”

“You’re–”

“Yeah, yeah. Save it for later.” He makes a quarter turn, hand on the handle again. “I gotta go. See you at work.”

And with that, he’s gone.

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౨ৎ a/n ; helloooo!! thank you all so much for all of the support :') i couldn't possibly have imagined all the love for this series, so it seriously means a lot.

i've gone for what i think is a fun writing challenge for myself in giving sukuna and reader both a very interesting dynamic, while also showing that sukuna's views on sex are very different than traditional ones bc of his line of work. we'll see more of satoru's perspectives as well and where those views come from!! reader, of course, struggles with insecurity in spite of the fact that she is bold and confident and slowly but surely we'll see more of that come into play in further chapters as well as where it comes from.

i hope you're enjoying it so far <33

౨ৎ taglist ; OPEN. age must be visible in bio. 18+ only. @lilrosyhaven @tiny-mimi @grimm3r @yujisredkicks @knittybritty98 @sukunahs @saezzi @epicderpface @ynishalee @pandabiene5115 @silibiliballs @ane5e @feyrinnn @jkslvsnella @maomimii @megumuro @beereadzzz @beaniesayshi @ryomeowie @suguusatoo @gojosoups @yenayaps @m3owr3ow @tohru-tales @crimzie129 @lostgxrlblog @sterzin @scaraamo @sunyomz @norahlolzz @whateverineedsblog @buttclencher28 @blueemochii @pequnopastel @cupidxml @saintdilucc @officiallydrunk @yvannaille @brazzigy @ilovebeansyay @deewrites01 @martianzmars @volleyballgirl2022 @mtchamnsta @astrokenny @ge3ked @ri-sa20 @heichouaack @iluvgetosuguru @winkii

"A goddamn jaguar. I want you to go into that jungle and kill it." The client's voice cut through the still air from the far side of the dining table. Toji, languidly propping his boots on the polished wood, reclined in his cushioned chair. "What's in it for me? I don't do charity work, you—of all people—should know that," he replied, a sly smirk curling his lips as the man across from him exhaled in exasperation, appearing desperate to be anywhere but in the presence of the insufferably self-assured, dark-haired huntsman. At last, the client approached, depositing a neatly bundled stack of documents before the hunter.

Truthfully, the request barely interested him. Another job with another beast to kill, but money was money. And a good portion of his fights ended up at least somewhat entertaining. He got to overprice clients for a cleanup service that he not only took pleasure in but also took souvenirs from his victims. The crocodile tooth he had around his neck, his first kill, testified to this.

"This is all you need to know. Now leave and get on with it. That pest has already killed enough of our men as is." The client said.

"As long as it's for a good price, you can count me in," Toji replied.

"45 million yen, take it or leave it."

"Bring that up to 50, and you may have yourself a deal."

The man across from Toji sighed once more as he reluctantly agreed. Toji’s smirk quickly transitioned into a grin, "A deal it is then." Grabbing the file from the table and swinging the jacket he had once abandoned over his shoulder, "Before I leave, do you want the beast dead or alive?"

"I want that thing’s head on a spike for what it did to my wife," the man seethed, his expression turning into one of spoiled milk as rage seeped out from him. She had only gone out at dusk to check the traps, and all they found later was a trail of blood vanishing into the trees.

"I'll take that as a no, then," Toji concluded, slamming the door shut behind him once the man had been ushered out.

This was by no means Toji Fushiguro's first rodeo. He’d started hunting random animals, selling their corpses to make ends meet, when he finally decided to go no-contact with his family.

Then, the outbreak happened. It started as a simple whisper in a faraway country, a secret research project they called it. Perhaps government, perhaps not, something to do with splicing and creating alternative coding genes from different RNA predator and prey genes. Some said it was an attempt to cure terminal illnesses, whilst others spoke of illegal experiments to create something more sinister.

Whatever the truth, people soon began to develop animalistic features, trading their humanity for the raw instincts and behaviour of fauna. In less time than predicted, this crisis had affected every continent with numerous hybrid attacks surfacing daily. Not every hybrid was dangerous, far from it—plenty had integrated into society perfectly, but it was the apex predators you had to be cautious of.

And this is why people like Toji existed, why Toji was even able to support himself at the moment. He worked for no one, yet was still marginalised with the others who had chosen this career path and fell under contractors and specific schedules. Toji Fushiguro had spent the better part of his life having his decisions dictated by a family that couldn't care less about his well-being, so, as his final act of generosity to himself, he chose freelance work. Sure, it was difficult at the start, but once he built a name for himself, the earlier decision he had made in his early twenties to work at his own pace had paid off. He was a renowned hunter who had twenty-odd years to hone his abilities, undoubtedly making him the best in the business. Ultimately, no one could do exactly what he did.

So, when a rich pleb came banging at his front door looking for a certain hunter, the original plan was to entertain him a bit before turning down his request. He almost walked out on the crying man until he showed him photos of you. A shockingly beautiful and bloody jaguar with blood smeared around your mouth as you shredded through another poor human. Someone close to his client was judging the way he tensed as Toji looked at the CCTV photos.

Toji studied the clearest photo he was given. The one where your dark hair didn't obscure his view of your face while you feasted on your prey. His eyes memorised how your rosettes blended with your dark skin, a feature anyone would have missed due to poor lighting, yet Toji wasn't anyone. He studied the way the dim light shone off your body, illuminating the golden hues of your eyes as your pupils slit and narrowed when you realised the camera was recording you. The clothes you wear--if you could call them that-- left Toji with more than enough to imagine.

He'd already begun his descent into the jungle, skimming over the notes he'd made sure to write before his journey.

'Jaguar with melanism, "black panther" ➜ the villages call her the devil, evil, demon, etc.'

'Likely to be in early-mid twenties based on structure, born near the start of the outbreak, likely remembers little of it.'

'Dangerous bite force, avoid mouth at all costs.'

'Also, avoid swimming at all costs. Jaguars are good swimmers, and water will slow me down.'

'Incapacitate on sight.'

'Other notes ➜ 27 confirmed kills but likely more. All victims were mutilated almost beyond recognition, all victims had their throats torn out, and most victims were hunters and poachers. Avoid the mouth at all costs.'

He placed the small notebook down next to the rest of his supplies. Interlocking his fingers and stretching his arms over his head, a loud crack resonated through the jungle as he brought his hands down, expressing a sigh of relief. He had exactly what he needed and would be out of the jungle and back to civilisation at the latest by the end of the week.

Toji started by setting a few traps. Nothing to seriously maim you, of course, he wanted you awake for what he was going to do. At the very least, he wanted you in a position where your most dangerous assets would be out of commission, then he could ultimately decide if your fate lay six feet under or somewhere worse. From what he’d been told, Jaguar hybrids—while few in numbers were one of the few hybrids that shared an eerily similar nature to their animal counterparts and if that served true for you, taking you down would be a lot easier than what he initially anticipated.

For instance, the traps. He didn’t lie down various ones in the hope you’d fall into them. He knew three or four would be enough; besides, if he laid down more than that, there was a higher chance he’d end up ensnared in his own traps. He only needed a singular opportunity to wound you. Jaguars were not long-distance chasers, but he was.

The minute a hybrid or any animal sniffed an unfamiliar entity in their territory, they’d avoid the spot like the plague. Most deeming it unsafe until the scent of whatever had disturbed their place was completely eradicated from the area. Toji knew this, of course, opting to cover himself daily in nearby shrubbery and dirt, attempting to mask his scent with the local scenery.

He poured more knowledge into this hunt than he did for the others. Instead of blindly flicking through the pages of the case file, he made sure to study and read it. Even going as far as to ask nearby hunters in the area for any previous experience hunting big-cat hybrids, what to expect, what not to do, etc. He wanted to make sure your first encounter went seamlessly. Would you talk to him once he caught you, maybe plead with him to free you? Better question, did you even know how to talk? He even took it a step further, going around and asking locals whom you had previously terrorised about any relevant information regarding you. It was something he never did, and yeah, his rough and brash questions did evoke a few tears, but he acquired more than what was needed for a successful hunt.

As he fell further, his mind wandered—how it would feel like to be entrapped by your jaws? Would he fight? Or simply give in to the sensation of slowly dying from blood loss? All impulsive thoughts, of course, he knew where he stood, and some random floating thoughts he had did not signify it. Maybe his estimate that this hunt would finish in a week's time was a pathetic assumption.

He was already on the fifth day and had not once caught a sighting of you. In the span of five days, he had done nothing other than capture local animals. Either hunting them for sport or sustenance. There was only so much he could do in such a dense area, Toji thought to himself as he retired for the night. His traps were set, placed meticulously so even your night vision would have difficulty recognising the hidden dangers.

A few minutes after his head hit the pillow, a small, rustling sound emerged from behind where he had posted up for camp. As the minutes crept by, a figure emerged in front of his tent, a barely visible silhouette illuminated by the light's glow, and stood before him. The only thing separating them was the thin layer of the tent. As the figure bent down, closer to the zipper of the tent, Toji’s eyes focused in on their outline. How a tail appeared to bat against the floor, accompanied by rounded ears that twitched at the slightest noise. The zipper slowly started to travel up, and Toji slowly inched his hand closer to the knife he kept under his pillow, hand clenching on the handle in a sturdy grip.

He feigned being asleep, squinting his eyes so they’d appear shut to the intruder as they stepped into what was meant to be his place of refuge for the night. The figure slinked closer to the still man as he tried to even his breathing. About a foot away from where he slept, the invader paused and stopped stalking toward the man. Instead, they decided to go for a different approach—dropping on all fours and slowly inching towards the supposed sleeping figure that was the hunter, Toji Fushiguro. They paused directly in front of his body, lowering their head and inhaling the man's scent as a coarse, sandpaper tongue approached his cheek, slowly trailing down to his neck. The feeling may have willed him to move slightly if it hadn’t been followed by teeth. They didn’t fully ensnare his neck; instead, they hung above it, like whatever was tormenting the hunter knew he was awake and simply wanted him to suffer. Knowing fully that by the time he could attack them, he’d already be bleeding out in his makeshift bed. Warm breaths fluttered on his skin as the teeth of the beast inched closer and closer to the skin on his neck before violently contracting, like something had pulled away whatever was about to maul him.

The creature let out a small chuff from somewhere deep in their chest as puffs of hot air flew across his skin, “I guess today is your lucky day, Toji Fushiguro.” A voice called out to the hunter, and he shot up immediately. However, by the time he did, whatever was in his tent had left.

The hunter never envisioned he’d be returning to his notebook after memorising all of its contents, but he found himself writing a page anew. Documenting what had happened so far.

‘First five days, nothing. Caught rabbits, fish, deer, but no deadly cat ➜ deadly cat shows up in my tent yet doesn’t eat me. Why. Reinforce traps around camp. I may not be capturing this damned cat this week, but she’ll be mine, one way or another.’ Stashing the book off to the side, he sat against a log. A few moments passed, and he reached for his notebook again, instantly tearing the page he had just written out and shredding it to oblivion. “She’ll be mine? She’s an animal that has a head with a place on a mantlepiece, Fushiguro.” He told himself as he got back up to check his traps, mumbling to himself along the way.

The first trap he’d set up by a dense patch of trees? Perfectly untouched. The second one, which he lay by a nearby stream, also mirrored this condition. The third was almost as perfect as the other two; the leaves that he’d placed over the bear trap were now scattered around, revealing the trap to all close by. Toji sighed, cleaning up the trap and putting down another batch of leaves that had the same dryness and discolouration as the others. While he finished putting the last leaves down, a snap echoed in the shrub layer. The sound being so loud, he was sure it could be heard in the under canopy. Instantaneously, he ran towards the fourth trap; a deer, with its poor neck chewed out, hung leg first in the trap. Its body, dangling and swaying as blood drooped down onto the jungle floor.

As Toji examined the deer, unsetting the trap to bring it down from the great height, a golden gleam flickered in the compact darkness of the trees. You. Your eyes zeroed in on the hunter who handled the mangled corpse of the deer with care. Head cocking to the side as you stared at him in wonder, why would he care for the dead? You thought to yourself as he lay the deer down. Perhaps to not get his clothes ruined? Though they were already caked in mud in some spots, so that’s clearly not the case. While you lost yourself in potential hypotheticals, you failed to notice the oncoming patter of footsteps until they were right in front of you. He couldn’t see you, not with you being so high up. You made sure that your body was hidden in the thick canopy with its branches and leaves. For whatever reason, despite your form being absent from his field of view, he knew you were present, looking down on him, watching him, waiting for his next move.

“Usually, I’d say thanks for the meal, but it seems you gave me leftovers.” He was right. You’d chewed out the neck of the dear whilst also stripping away the fattiest parts of the animal—not because you were hungry, but because you were bored and needed something to toy with.

A few seconds of silence passed between the two of you. “Not much of a talker, huh? That’s alright, I’m sure I can do most of the talking between the two of us, heh.” He chuckled lightly to himself and walked off, going back the same way he came. Not before looking up at where you were, though, and if you weren’t so high up, you might actually be wary that he saw you.

Your ears flickered once, then twice as you saw his fleeting figure, before eventually you too decided to leave.

You clearly wanted to meet him, you just didn’t know how. The hunter concluded as he tried his best to strip off any savable meat from the carcass you had brought him earlier. His scarred lips curled at the thought of you stalking him throughout his stay. Making sure to stay far enough so he couldn’t catch you, but close enough you could still observe him.

Plainly speaking, your behaviour confused him. He knew you crawled into his tent that night and intended to devour him; if your teeth meant to pierce his skin that night, he would have easily driven the knife through your head. Whether he found you interesting then or not, a simple interest was not enough to keep him from eventually killing you.

However, to put it simply, things had changed. Somewhere along the way, a sensation began to coalesce inside him, tangled up in thoughts that resisted an easy explanation or simple logical answer. Truthfully, he should have seen it coming. The slight fascination that came subtly each time he caught the glint of golden eyes in the dark, or the purposeful footsteps that paraded around his camp until he shone his torch as a means to spook whatever was causing a ruckus at two in the morning. Every time you slipped his traps, there was a flare of irritation, yes, but beneath that a feeling of infatuation hummed relentlessly.

You weren’t just a job anymore. The idea of killing you, snuffing out that spark just for a payout, started to sour in his imagination. You were far too intriguing to be left dead. Each night, as he lay awake rehearsing his plan, talking to himself, the words in his notebook veered on something dangerously close to limerence. Instead, he would render you helpless, make sure you didn’t cause too much of a ruckus, claim his bounty money, and that’s all he could think of.

Everything after that felt murky, unfinished. Scribbling out his plan of what he was going to do with you and the bounty money, he tore the page of his notebook he had just written on out of the book, chucking it into the nearby stream. Toji was many things, but he wasn’t stupid, and he knew leaving what he planned to do with you on a flimsy bit of paper when you had clearly gone through the book earlier was nothing short of a terrible idea. It was the only reason you knew his name, where he had placed the traps, how many days he planned to stay, and so on. It was easier to write things down just in case he forgot important information, but as of late, this habit served as nothing but a hindrance.

He tore the notebook in half. Allowing the papers to fly in the wind and eventually fall somewhere unknown in the jungle as he cleared up for the night, already suspecting your arrival and how to prepare for it. He had it all mapped out in his head, reciting the plan over and over again until it eventually lulled him to sleep.

He awoke to all of his equipment, which he had around his camp, scattered in random spaces, and his jacket, which he had forgotten to pack away last night. Strung in a tree. The pots and pans he’d left near a fire? Stacked and filled with different items. One was full of rocks, the other water. Was that a poison dart frog submerged underneath? Toji raked a hand through his hair, laughing to himself at the mess you’d clearly made. Until now, he wasn’t aware you were one for practical jokes. He spent the whole day in an attempt to find you, but as usual, you were out of sight, not out of mind.

The nights and days flew by, and as the filtered dawn light met his eyelids. Time stretched as he ticked off another day he’d spent in this desolate jungle. Desolate because of the absence of real humans, the animals and hybrids in the jungle did not count as they were already a part of the ecosystem. Toji Fushiguro counted for anomalies, and you were an anomaly. He could sense your presence the moment he walked out of his tent. Out of reach, yet again, but close enough that you could monitor his activities, all without being seen. However, that was okay. He enjoyed simple games of cat and mouse; however, this had simply dragged on for far too long.

The movement of leaves, followed by a loud rustle, echoed in the shrubs. Without looking back at the sound, keeping his eyes focused on where he thought you were stationed (you were in fact positioned there, not that he knew for certain), he shot whatever was making the noise behind him. The earsplitting bang caused nesting birds and part-birds to fly from their resting places high in the trees. The sudden attack of violence caused even you, someone who was used to and often provoked violence, to be taken aback. Toji turned around, and his eyes narrowed on what he shot. A hand peeked from the shrubs as he walked over to it, pulling the body out of hiding. A small deer hybrid, native to this area, had been shot directly in the head.

“Like the show, doll?” Toji exclaimed, his voice reaching all who currently hid from his eyes, but you knew that voice was directed towards you.

Admittedly, at first, you were interested in the Hunter who dared to trespass on your lands. You rummaged through his things whilst he was away. You let him live that fateful night for one reason and one alone: you were curious. If he cowered when you put your jaws on him, then certainly, you would have killed him where he ‘slept’. Instead, he remained still, motionless. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he was dead by how still his heartbeat was. But one lick to his neck and feeling his pulse point under your harsh tongue told you he was anything but. He was alive, awake, yet pretended to be in a deep sleep for a reason you still didn’t know.

His charms reeled you in further, the way after that first week, he’d speak aloud like you were nearby and listening (you were). He’d refer to you, not by your name but by others that had your head tilting and your ears twitching in confusion about the terms of endearment. Though he carried these names lighter than the rest of his words, so you could only assume they were positive names.

Unfortunately, whatever feeling you had for the man previously diminished like a flame under a waterfall when he shot that hybrid. Not because he shot the hybrid, you didn’t care for that. But now, you finally saw how dangerous he was, and Toji Fushiguro needed to go.

Under no circumstances could you allow such a threat to flourish in your environment. At first, he overstayed his welcome, but you allowed it—condoned it even. He was your prime source of entertainment. None of the animals or hybrids in the region had such a vibrant personality as the hunstman did. And if they did, it’s not like you would ever know. Those feeble animals avoided you like the plague, whilst Toji was the only one who, while aware of your presence, did not cower while you were near. Even if the situation had turned sour, you could use this to your advantage. He’d already let down some of his guard; all you had to do was continue your earlier ministrations and wait for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Time meant so little to you. Days and nights passed by like fish going upstream while you studied Toji more intently than ever. Still placing little ‘gifts’ in his traps and watching how he bolted when he heard the oh so familiar sound of them being activated. He always made sure to thank you, giving you his familiar grin while he picked the corpses of unfortunate victims from their ensnarement. He made it a habit of speaking to you more, too.

You never responded; due to a mix of being irritated and cautious over your safety, but this didn’t bother the hunter. He would speak aloud like you were answering his questions and comments yourself; no matter how ridiculous his questions were, he spoke as if it were a conversation between two individuals. Not a one-sided conversation between a delicate human and a vengeful predator, which it was. Though delicate could be changeable since Toji seemed like anything but the gentle type.

While you played the long game, Toji’s behaviour only grew more erratic and hysterical. He started actively hunting not just prey, but predators too. Buchering them right where you could see. You saw how their blood pooled around him, how he decimated them in a way that looked sacrificial, like he was offering it to some higher being, despite the jungle holding no such thing. He’d killed more caimans and venomous snakes, hybrids and non-hybrids than you could count. Clearly, he had a type because he’d brought back more anacondas to his camp than you thought the jungle could possibly have. He revelled in their screams while he buttered and flayed them. And always, always when he neared finishing, he would look up to where you were perched on the tree. Asking if you ‘enjoyed’ the show.

You made sure to never reveal where you were in the trees to him, but his accuracy in predicting where you were was unnerving, to say the least.

The sun grew absent once more, and crickets and the other animals had begun their nightly noise. Toji retreated to his tent. He’d be ready for your arrival, and he’d take you home at the earliest convenience. As he finished zipping up his tent for the night, or before you could at least unzip it anyway. His body was almost finished turning around when a hand secured its way around his throat, whilst the other lay flat on his back. “Don’t suppose you plan on using those claws of yours anytime soon, kitty?” He asked, referring to how the tips of your claws had begun to pierce the first layer of his skin, drawing blood.

You leaned in further, dragging your tongue along the uncovered area of his neck. You felt his body tense under your hold as a smile curled up on your face, your whiskers brushing against his neck as you raised your head to whisper in his ear, “Do you want me to? Hunter.” The soft, almost sultry tone of your voice came to a pause once you addressed him by his title as you spat out the world like it was common vermin. Your hair draped over his shoulder when you leaned in further, your body pressing right against his. Whilst you held him in place, your fingers dug deeper into his flesh as you slowly lifted one of your fingers on his neck to your mouth. Sucking on the blood that had pooled on your hand. “So…sweet, yet unfortunately, I need you gone.” You said, using the same honeyed tone as earlier, that descended into hostility when you revealed your true intentions.

“Well, doll, I think it’d be in your best interest if you didn’t.” You paused in harming his skin further, taking a small fragment of time to actually ponder what he was telling you, though a small fragment of time was all he needed to overtake you. Your tail bent at the force he slammed you down with.

In a flash, he overwhelmed you with a strength that even you would call impressive, if he didn't currently have you pinned beneath him with your hands bound and a hunting knife at your throat. Your tail, still positioned at an awkward angle, elevated you in front of the hunter, making your back unwillingly arch to save your body from accidentally falling on it and harming a part of you that would be a bitch to recover from. The man above you smirked at your new position, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I like this a lot better, don’t you?”

Disregarding the knife pressed against your neck, you lunged at him. He immediately got up from straddling you and went to another corner of the tent as you remained on the opposite side. Baring your teeth to him while a low roar expelled from your throat, “Is this all you can do? I had such high hopes for you, doll.” He said smugly, still on guard from your attempted attack.

Ignoring his words, you lunged toward his neck.

Your teeth narrowly missed his neck as he dodged, and instead they fell onto the side of his face, where you bit into his ear and part of his cheek, immediately ripping away the flesh. You chewed the flesh in your mouth, allowing him to hear the grinding sound of your teeth against his stolen ear and flesh as you spit it out onto the tent floor. The blood dripped down your face onto your torn clothes as you glared at the bleeding man with pure bloodlust. “Now that’s the sight I’ve been waiting to see,” Toji smirked, side-stepping another attack and slashing directly across your abdomen.

The pain was…new. You’d never been attacked on such a severe scale, and before your fight or flight had kicked in, Toji decided he would dictate your next movements for you. He slashed at you, cutting your skin—leaving deep and shallow cuts all throughout your body until he grabbed his knife and plunged it into your thigh. The pain was unfamiliar, unbearable as you toppled over, disoriented and trying your best to reach the zip of the tent.

“Unfortunately for you, doll, I was a bit too prepared, huh? Better luck next time.” Toji pulled out a needle he had hidden in his back pocket and thrusted it into your neck, forcing you to become unconscious sooner rather than later when he secured your head in a chokehold. You brought your hands up to his forearm, trying to claw your way out as your claws dug deep into him. Seconds passed, and you felt your movements gradually grow sluggish. Toji leaned down to your ear once more, “Nice try,” he told you as he released you from his hold, only to slam your head into the ground, knocking you out entirely.  

Officially, it took the duration of the last few months of dry season and the few early days of wet season for Toji to finally have you within his grasp. Albeit longer than he expected, but as he hauled your body out of his tent and onto more even ground, he couldn’t help but think this went a lot more smoothly than he intended—not counting the ear and parts of the face that he had lost in the midst of your fight.

The floor was damp, unnaturally damp like someone had poured a bucket of water onto you. The humid climate and moist soil caused your hair to fasten to your head as you attempted to shake out any stray items that wound up in your hair. Your wounds, fresh, ached when exposed to the sudden assault. Toji stood above you, smug as ever, holding a bucket of water in your direction. “Nice to see you're finally up.” He said as he leaned down to your height. “I’m giving you on the count of three to run on outta’ here. If I don’t catch ya, you can run along to whatever cave you call home. But if I get you—” He leaned down closer to you, till your noses practically touched “I’ll be keeping you with no intent to ever let you go.” He finished, pulling his looming frame off yours.

“Now, if I were you, I’d be hightailing it out of here. Time’s already started, pet.” He smirked as he watched your form gather up whatever strength you had left in an attempt to run from him. In hindsight, it may have served futile, but you were an apex predator; hunters feared you, not the other way around. You knew when to pick your fights, and currently, you were in no state to win.

Dirt and leaves clung to your form as you tried to barrel your way through the overgrown thicket. Freedom seemed so close, like something you could hold in the grasp of your palm until a sharp tug fell on your leg. A strong force slung you up, propelling your marred body upwards and securing you to dangle at an awkward angle. The world was spinning whilst being disproportional—upside down as the slowed footsteps of Toji fell upon your disoriented ears.

“And here I was thinking you’d put up more of a fight.” He mocked, pulling out his hunter's knife, allowing you to smack down onto the ground headfirst. The blunt force had your head swelling as black spots filled your vision while the last thing you saw was the same familiar tall stature looming over you with an unforgiving smirk.

You woke some hours later, bound in a chair, bruised, pained and ultimately humiliated that a human, a man no less, would render you to such a state. Your body ached all over, blood seeping from its poorly bandaged bindings as you squirmed in your chair. The blunt force trauma, combined with whatever he had forced into your bloodstream, had clearly knocked you out long enough for you to be transported from your home into a random environment.

You’d been in homes before; you vaguely remember your childhood one, but the ceiling was far too high, and the walls seemed to constantly contract and retract the longer you stared at them. Then came the unbearable pain in your mouth. It started as a small, sharp nipping pain, but soon transitioned into what felt like your mouth constantly being bludgeoned by a sledgehammer. Your mouth throbbed as you shakily pulled up your hands to feel around it.

Your teeth, the canines that were your pride and joy, were gone. The four teeth that let you survive, hunt, and prove your strength day in and day out were missing. You reached your trembling claws to your jaw, desperate, frantic, but only hot blood filled your mouth instead of the familiar sharp edges. Panic crashed over you in suffocating waves.

A scream welled up but died before it could ever be formed, replaced by a guttural groan of raw despair. A rage that burned brighter than any sun you’d felt twisted inside you at the violation. Now you felt stripped, exposed, weak.

Sure, they’d grow back. They always did. However, the only difference was that you’d never had all four missing at the same time, and a feeling within you told you you’d need them now more than ever.

“Careful now,” A voice called to your right, and you lunged at it, pathetically attempting to use your claws. Your arms couldn’t even make it over to where the man was since your body was still feeling the effects of the drug. Instead, they fell to your sides, limp and unusable. “Now that won’t do, will it?” Toji came into your view instead of continuing to be some sort of ominous voice from behind you. He crouched down in front of you. Mocking your grim expression as he twirled the pliars in his hands. “Hands.” He called out, and with what little strength you had, you buried your claws into them, refusing to give him the satisfaction of you submitting.

“I won’t ask you again, hands.” He said, firmer this time. You still refused, shielding your hands from his view as he stood  up and came closer. He leaned closer, looking you directly in your eyes as he spoke: “Remember, this was your choice.” When those words left his mouth, you felt a searing hot pain in your left forearm.

Toji had made that sledgehammer feeling in your mouth you felt earlier into a reality as he swung the weapon down on your arm once more. The pain caused your vision to cloud as your eyes filled with tears. You, who once held others' lives in your hands, now had your treatment spat back at you. The pain was overwhelming and almost consumed you whole, all whilst the hunter paraded around your wounded body, mocking your cries.

“Now, are you ready to give me your hands?” And with your hesitance being beaten out of you in more ways than one, you unfurled them.

What Toji found enthralling about you originally was your raw display of power. You didn’t use weapons to harm your prey; you relied on instinct and your sheer abilities. He enjoyed fighting with you, and he was sure the two of you would have more tussles in the future, but the fact remains that he could actively feel bandages rub against the skin of his arm and face, which could not happen once more.

Perhaps one day, you would thank him for this. You would thank him for declawing you despite how much it hurt. Observing how the blood pooled around your ruined nail beds, how suddenly you seemed to be frail as the harmed flesh grew redder by the second. You would thank him for removing the dangerous parts of you and replacing them with parts that let you live freely, without the constant instinct of having to fend for yourself. Toji would protect you; all you had to do was sit pretty for him and be nothing more than his pet. In his mind, his actions didn’t have to be justified. Toji Fushiguro wasn’t obligated to anyone. Not to his family that disregarded him, not to the people that looked down on him, and certainly not to you, even as you cursed and screamed at him from the chair he bound you in. You screamed and roared until your throat grew hoarse. Toji didn’t owe you an explanation as to why he was doing this, and truly, he didn’t even know why he was doing this. He’d claimed the bounty money, showing off your canines as proof to the man and a part of the hunter expected to dispose of your body long before you awoke.

But something in him couldn’t do it. Two halves of himself fought each other constantly, the urge to kill you and the urge to keep you, constantly battled each other until one of them clearly won. Not to be mistaken, Toji would still kill you if you proved not to match up to the image of what he had painted in his mind, that was absolute. But as for now, you could not be more perfect, covered in your own blood as you tried your best not to let him see the fragile parts of you.

Toji wanted, needed to see that part of you. He had to see the different ways you’d react to his advances. Would you bear your mutilated mouth at him? Try to harm him with your wounded nailbeds that clearly were too weak to hold any additional force? Or simply fight him for your freedom? The possibilities ranged on, and Toji found himself excited at whichever one you’d decide to go for.  

He dropped the blood pliers on the ground, returning to his previous placement. Toji leaned closer into you as he inhaled the metallic scent emanating from your body. He brought his mouth closer to your skin, gently swivelling your chair as his tongue reached and suckled on the blood still pooling from your closed mouth. Your body froze as his tongue eventually wormed its way into your mouth. His lips fell properly onto yours as his hands placed themselves on your wounds, with his fingers digging in the cuts that tried their best to heal. The pain had you gasping for air, which only pulled Toji in closer to you as his touches became harsher while he gripped and pulled at your marred skin.

His fingers travelled down further as your wrists and legs wrattled against the chair, attempting to free yourself from his hold. He used one hand to tear away at your tattered garments whilst his other hand gripped onto your throat, constricting your airflow while he kissed you. Finally, your strength left you, and you allowed him to trail his hand lower, and lower until he came into contact with a bundle of nerves. His fingers circled your cunt, running along your clit and down your folds, all while he kissed you like you were the air he breathed in—all whilst having the oxygen from your body contricted. Your vision began spotting, and Toji let go of his hold on you, making you gasp for air like it was your first time breathing, which, in all fairness, felt like it. Toji shifted his position, opting to place his mouth on your neck and shoulders as he bit and sucked on your skin, leaving dark bruises and teeth marks, all while murmuring words onto your skin.

“You want this, don’t you?” Having seen how you constantly tried to press your thighs together in an attempt to relieve yourself.

His fingers intruded into you, making you moan at the intrusion immediately. You could feel Toji's smirk on your skin as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, all while you writhed in his hold. His other hand came up to your chest, tearing away at the fabric there and leaving you bare in front of him. “Fucking gorgeous,” He said, looking into your eyes as he attacked your chest, biting and sucking. His tongue manoeuvred onto one of your nipples whilst his hand that wasn’t currently entertaining your cunt wound up on your other tit, pinching and pulling at the nipple.

He continued slobbering over your chest whilst his fingers quickened their pace inside you, making you cry out all the more. Whatever words and curses you were attempting to shout out earlier came off as half-mumbled words that ended in groans or whines as he pulled your orgasm closer and closer to you until you broke, cumming all over his hand and the chair.

Toji pulled himself away from your chest, taking out the fingers he put in you moments earlier while he observed the mess you made on them. He brought the substance to his mouth, giving it one clean lick, “ So sweet. That’s what you told me earlier, right?” You didn’t respond to him, too focused on regulating yourself after your orgasm, “I’m sure you like sweet things, don’t you want a taste?” That wasn’t a question with the way he forced your poor mouth open to ram his fingers in so you could taste yourself. “Go on, you like sweet things. This is perfect for you.” He mocked as he forced his fingers further into your blood mouth, causing you to gag and almost sob.

Toji was relentless, not giving up until he felt you suck on the digits he had forced in your mouth. You were weak, your fighting spirit anulled, and it didn’t take long for you to comply to his command, sucking on the digits until he eventually pulled them out of you. “That wasn’t so bad, was it—” you cut him off when you spat out a mixture of your own cum, saliva and blood into the face of the hunter. Watching as it dripped down his face and onto his shirt.

You winced back, expecting the worst—maybe another tooth pull? Perhaps a broken leg, but to your surprise, Toji did nothing; he laughed. He laughed until you swore you could almost see him go blue in the face, all for it to come to an abrupt pause when he grabbed the arms of the chair, ripping your restraints off. He did the same with the ropes binding your legs and pried you from the chair, slamming you on the ground stomach first. The sudden action left you breathless as you heard him fiddle and rip something else before pressing his bare lower half to you.

He grabbed your hips, turning you around and forcing you to sit in his lap as he sat down on the floor with you hovering over his now bare dick. “Never thought I’d have you like this so soon, pretty.” smirking as he saw how your pained body writhed in place. Another snarky remark rested on his tongue but faded into nothing other than a sharp groan as he felt your tight heat sinking down onto him.

You pushed him onto the floor, fully sitting on his dick while he lay back. He let your hands travel to his throat; he let them constrict around it as you found a rhythm and started moving up and down on him. Whenever Toji motioned his hips upwards in a threat to meet yours, you growled, and he immediately let go. He turned complicit over you, taking control of him, and as you came down faster, he felt his own vision dwindle because of the pleasure.

Until a sharp pain hit his throat.

Instantaneously, what had been so real for Toji shattered into fragments as he stumbled around the room, grasping at his throat for air while you stalked over to him, blood-covered pliers in hand.

When did you get out of your bounds? How could you possibly be this strong?  A mirage of thoughts rushed to Toji’s mind, but the most overwhelming one of them all was telling him he needed to kill you, before you killed him. Trying to capture his breath, he stumbled once or twice and reached for a knife he had hidden on him, just in case of emergencies.

He was too late. You’d already swung the heavy set tool into his head, causing him to fall to the ground as you stradled his body, prying the knife from his hands onto the floor, far, far away from him. You raised the pliars, bringing them down and down and down onto the skull of the man who tortured and humiliated you.

You beat him within an inch of his life, making sure he felt all the pain you felt while he battered and cut your body. You stood up from on top of him, staggering as your adrenaline wore off, and you looked at the vile man you once allowed to live in your land.

“I told you, I’d kill you.” You breathlessly breathed out to the barely conscious, bleeding out man.

And as suddenly as it happened, Toji Fushiguro, someone who had a name solely based on presence alone—who had spent years building a name for himself, was no more. All that remained was an unrecognisable body as you blindly feasted on the corpse of a man with irresistible blood.

You do not know what a king was, precisely. You had heard the word carried on boats, spoken with a particular weight that other words did not carry. You understood, watching the shore, that whatever had been inside that black sailboat had been significant, and now that it was gone, the people of the shore did not know what to steer by. That much you understood without needing the words for it

The rites on land concluded in a way that was foreign to you. One by one, mourners stepped forward to cast offerings into the water: white flowers, folded scraps of paper, tiny objects that flashed silver beneath the sun before disappearing beneath the tide. You did not know if these were a sacrifice, a bargain, or perhaps they feared sending off their dead empty-handed. There were no drifting currents to carry the essence away, no shimmering clouds of plankton or echoing songs to bind the living to what was lost.

You watched for a time, trying to discern its logic, when slowly, the robed figures began to peel away, all drifting back up the shore toward the buildings beyond the sand. They leaned on each other as they went, some still leaking from the eyes, some gone quiet and hollow. They carried their grief back up the beach with them, and the shore swallowed their footprints as soon as they were made.

There was one figure left. 

He was young, broad-shouldered, and solid in his frame in the way of someone who had grown into their body all at once. His pink hair caught what little light the morning offered and held it strangely, lighter than those that once were around him, lighter than the sky. 

He stood at the very edge of the platform where the boat had been, boots sunk into the wet sand, as he watched the horizon take what was lost. He sat and stared at the receding boat with an expression that was hard to decipher; he did not leak from his eyes, yet grief was carved into the set of his jaw, a hollow ache behind his eyes that went far beyond the polished sorrow of the crowd. It was raw and unguarded, as if the sea would offer answers that the land withheld.

His mouth moved once, a single word, but the waves took it before it could reach you. His throat moved with it, his hands at his sides, closed briefly then opened again.

Then he lowered himself to sit at the platform's edge, legs hanging over the water, and he bent forward with his elbows on his knees and looked down at the surface below him. At the tide that had already moved on, at the water that had taken everything without apology.

He sat with the sea for a long time.

“Really? Do you mean that? We can go to the store right now!” He exclaimed, you giggled and nodded.

“I’m very serious. Come on!” The both of you hopped out of the bed like wombats.

As the two of you navigated the hair aisle, Yuji was practically bouncing up and down while you tried to match the dye with his hair color without making people have to ask were you siblings or dating.

“This rosy color matches well don’t you think?” You showed him the box.

“It looks great!” He beamed.

The two of you walked back home, bag full of expensive hair shit in hand and anticipation.

You and Yuji got back home and made a beeline to his bathroom. Yuji helped you put the bleach on first, which was the boring part. And now it was time for the dye.

“Yuji, don’t get it on my neck!” You squealed. Yuji was going to town on your head, he made sure to cover every inch of your head in the pink.

“I’m trying not to! This is so fun! We’re gonna match!” You giggled at his contagious excitement.

“It is pretty cool. It’s turning out so well.” You agreed with a smile on your face as he made all your hair stick up like a troll.

After an hour of letting it sit, three cold rinses, and blowdrying it and styling it the best you could with little to no heat tools in Yuji’s all male household, your hair was finally done.

“It looks amazing!” You beamed, running the pink strands through your fingers. Yuji watched you in awe, admiring both you and his masterpiece that was your vibrant hair.

“Yes it does. We match perfectly now, I love it!” You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips.

After lots of pictures and laughter, You and Yuji settled back down in his bed. Over the movies, you could hear his front door open and by the heavy slam you knew it was his uncle Sukuna. Suddenly you gasped.

“Yuji, the sink!” You remembered. Yuji had messed around and got a couple smidgens of dye on the bathroom sink. The color drained from Yuji’s face, no one wanted to hear Sukuna after a long shift.

“Uh… we’ll fake sleep!” He decided, pulling you down onto his chest and shutting his eyes. You did the same even though it was stupid.

“WHY IS THE SINK PINK!?” Sukuna’s loud voice bellowed. Choso’s laughter came even louder from his bedroom.

yuuji scratches the back of his neck sheepishly with a soft blooming blush as you undress for bed and you try not to be obvious when your eyes trace the hardlines of his body right down to his crotch. those stupid tight white boxers you can’t seem to ignore now.

“sorry, know it’s a lot.” because you keep staring and he keeps twitching underneath the fabric and you have no idea how to tell him he’s making your mouth water. “i can put some sweats on—?”

you’re all too eager when shake your head no. “i-it’s your room. sleep however you’re most comfortable!”

naturally you end up snuggled with itadori in bed. surrounded by him. an excuse to be close. yuuji in nothing but those evil little boxers and you in morning but his shirt. your face in his neck for safety from the horror movie you’re watching and his arm loose around your waist. and you really can’t help it, when his cock is sitting there all fat and heavy and weepy, kicking because the air in the room is against his feverish skin — your fingers dance down to the waist band playfully at first. you’re touchy. friends do this… but then they hit the sinful swirl of his pink happy trail and everything shifts.

lust starts to bubble within your eyes, usually so sweet and innocent. you just have to know if he feels as big as he looks in them.

yuuji exhales shakily. not looking at you. “you’re not watching the movie, are you?”

a hint. a chance. you take it. “can i touch it?” your ask is a breathless whisper — as light as summer’s breeze and barely there. like a figure in the night. touch him, rub on him, do everything you’ve been thinking about for months.

he’s already straining, clenched at the abdomen to keep himself from cumming from the friction against his inner seam. yet he grows under your inquisitive attention, throbbing in a dull rhythm that calls up your greed as though it were following the beating lull of a siren’s song.

yuuji’s cheeks glow warm in the dimness, a rose tinted flame in the dark. he swallows. “if you wanna… j-just be careful, yeah?”

that’s all it takes.

his head tips back in a filthy shameful moan — pink hair askew like the flutter of petals — and his throat bobs as he swallows down a flurry of curse words once your hand slips past the waistband. your grip curiously stretches the tightness of boxers as your tiny hand wraps around his fat girth. sticky, pulsing with arousal, prominent veins forming indents in your palm.

“you feel so big, yuuji,” your nose brushes his pulse point with the same gentleness you would with your lips for a kiss. it’s as if you’re trying to inhale his life force, tuck yourself impossibly closer. he feels swollen in your hand, cock beating as unsteadily as his heart, and he oozes premature white into the crevices of your finger prints. “sensitive too.”

“nngh, i know,” whilst itadori’s hips jump without his control and forces his length through your first, the weight of his crown drops to yours. the two of you share a view, your slippery hand in his near-see-through boxers doused with slick and precum beading from his sappy mushroomed tip. “s-sorry, fuck. ‘m just so hard and you’re so pretty and you smell so good.” he admits to you quietly in a high pitched whine, like a secret exchanged between two lovers at a rendezvous point. for your ears only. no one else gets to know how wrecked you have him.

the bulbous head of his cock is raw and red, shiny, as it peaks out from the elasticated band of his boxers — only because you’ve stroked him to full hardness. he no longer fits in the fabric. you thumb him there in comforting circles, spreading his arousal in the same manner that drool spreads across your tongue.

long, dark lashes flutter against your forehead like angel’s kisses and you squeeze around every inch that slides through your hold — sharing airy moans the more yuuji leaks against your tight knuckles. “you could make me cum like this, y-y’know? in my boxers like a — fuck — like a teenager,” yuuji stutters, chasing words that don’t make sense on his tongue. hips running after the solace your soft strokes. “makes me feel so filthy, but i’ve been waiting for you. t-to notice? how badly i’ve wanted it to be you touching me like this. i’d do anything for you. anything, baby girl.”

his honesty turns and twists your guts into feverish knots.

“then will you?” you purr artlessly. eyes on the string of drooly white leaking from his sensitive tip. “wanna see how much you cum too.”

“god yes, i can cum. i’ll cum for you. just —!” yuuji’s large hand slips around your wrist and he guides you. helps you tug on the parts of his dick that make him gargle and struggle for breath. he bucks upwards, chasing pleasure and the heavenly solace your fist has to offer. “that’s it, just like that. make me cum, been waiting for so long.”

you’re in awe of it all. the ripple of his abs as he thrusts, the way moans coil in between the letters of your name as they leave his lips. you touch yuuji like you were made for it, jerk him off as though it were instinct. squeezing him every time his hips draw back, circling his tip over and over in languid runs of your thumb around the world.

he takes that as a sign, permission to let go of the unravelling knot he’s been trying to hold together since first laying beside you. on instinct, like his body knows nothing else, he squeezes you tight against him — cheek smooshed against your crown, shaky loud and whimpers in your ear that have your own underwear damp and he snaps.

like a twig with little resistance to pressure.

“oh my god — baby, shit!”

yuuji’s release is sizeable, viscous like lava flow as it rockets hotly up his abdomen and pools amongst the ridges of his abs and belly button. white against gold. his underwear is positively soiled all the way through, crude stringy cum gathering amongst his balls and your wriggling fingers as you jerk him through his high. where his back bows towards the ceiling as though the heavens have come to collect his sweet soul and his thighs shake like his foundations are unsteady.

and even after all that, all the ropes of hot white that hit his skin — he’s still hard and swollen, monstrous in size that suddenly dawns on you as yuuji rolls you onto your back. landing on top.

his shoulders, as they heave, block out the glow of the movie playing behind him — crowding you against the pillows, acting as a shield to hide you away from the world and you feel him heavy against your tummy. cold with slick but heated with arousal at the same time.

your roommate grins, buzzing and slow. “how many inches is the biggest dick you’ve ever taken?”

“i don’t… know? i’ve never measured?” you squeak, suddenly flushed with a delicious mix of horniness and fear. “why?”

yuuji clicks his tongue then, big hand sliding up your face to cover your mouth — his free one guiding his erection between your now parted thighs.

“just wondering, how much of me you’ll be able to take tonight.”

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

his pretty baby, a sweet young thing who believes the world starts and ends with yuuji. you melt his rough exterior as though it’s candle wax lit by a warming flame — tended to by careful hands that love their craft all too much. you’re curled amongst bed sheets that wrap around you the same way they drape amongst marble statues — a modern day work of art amongst old bones and ancient artefacts.

the old man, by age and not by physicality, takes a drag of his cigarette and tacks it between rows his perfect teeth — pushing back strands of silky pink hair that never seem to stray far from his eyes before he makes his way over to the bed.

“baby,” yuuji settles over you, straddling your stomach with his length hard against the supple rippling flesh. “spread yourself open for daddy.” he taps your inner thigh, then taps ash onto the blankets below.

“can’t, ‘m tired.”

“are we now? that can’t be…” he tuts, without malice, not scolding you. please, baby? let daddy do all the work.”

you’re tired because he’s pushed you. stretched your body until your skin is paper thin and he can see your heart pound for him in your chest. his tongue traced the outlines of your cunt for at least an hour before yuuji decided to let you cum. it’s been days since you left the bed too, the room smells like tobacco, ash and sex and the little hint of love you seem to have laced between every orgasm.

even still, sleepily, your thighs spread as though he’s taken a key to unlock something precious and the crown jewels reside inside. you’re coated in his signature, a pretty picture of his release webbed and dried over your mound that pulses around nothing — waiting to be filled to the brim.

“that’s my girl,” he soothes you with praise. “always so ready for me. so sweet for your man, huh?”

your head shakes amongst your plethora of pillows stained with invisible ink in the form of tears and drool. “not my man, my daddy.” you heave as you correct him, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths and breasts bouncing with the barrage of thrusts oncoming from yuuji. he pounds at your quivering hole until it froths with bubbly white around him, more and more spewing every time his meaty girth dips in and out of you.

at your candy dipped moans and dulcet words, yuuji’s pace builds like the spark he had once lost. in the same way a firework draws a lightening trail across the sky before it explodes — the sorcerer’s hips wind back slow, pull away from the source of heat ( your dripping cunt ) before punching into you, tip nestled against your g-spot with a brilliant explosion of ecstasy behind your eyes.

colour returns to his life when yuuji gets to be with you like this, when your lips part and he catches a glimpse of the saliva that ties your tongue to the roof of your mouth. when you shakily reach out to rake your fingers through his sweaty pink roots, when you blink up at him and bow into him and trust him to be the man that takes care of you. “just like that,” you sigh dreamily, doing your best to roll your hips up and meet his own rabidly rocking hips. “right there, keep fuckin’ me here, daddy. gonna cum like this again.”

his cock twitches within the depths of you, rippling walls welcoming him home and soaking him in your personal claim. the word, the honour of daddy on your lips is enough to drive yuuji on — to keep him going because he knows that there’s someone who needs him at the end of every day. he’s your daddy and you are his saviour — the thought makes him weak in the knees and dissolves his resolve until it’s nothing but crumbling wet sand.

“let me see it then, feel you cum around me like a good girl,” yuuji pants his promise to pleasure, nose nudging the sweaty side of your head. “be daddy’s good little girl one more time. all for me.”

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!