I will be watching for your enemies

He was the most selfish man you had ever met. He was so insane, so crazy, that he was almost free. He was wanted everywhere he went; everything he touched turned to blood or death. He had no love to offer and no empathy whatsoever.

He was wanted for everything under the sun and more. This man had cannibalism on his list, so it was no surprise to see any crimes he committed.

He just did not care. No fucks are given. He was 23 when you two met, and you were just turning 20. Life has been harsh and unkind to you. With nobody to understand and no friends to count on, you were slowly losing it.

The bullying from school, the family dysfunction, the emotional absence of your parents—what broke the camel's back was when your mother's boyfriend tried to assault you, and she kicked you out for seducing her husband. She had always been jealous of you and everything you had done. She had picked a strange man over her own daughter.

You saw the empty warehouse, and it was tall enough that you wouldn't survive and become even more of a pain in the ass by being paralyzed or something like that. So, on the third night of being homeless, you have had enough. The winter was harsh, and you had seen everything by now.

Death would be rest; it would be a comfort compared to this.

Standing on the edge and looking down, the wind was stronger here, and it was so cold too. If the height did not kill you, the winter would do the job.

You didn't even have anyone to text "I love you" or "thank you" to. That was how pathetic you were. Letting the last tear drop to your cheek and closing your eyes, you let go.

But then there was a hand.

Someone pulled you backward.

God? Had he finally answered your call?

No, it was actually the devil himself.

As you lay on the ground, looking up at him, he sneered, “What a silly little girl you are,” and blew smoke in your face.

You lay on the cold ground, staring up at Sukuna, who stood over you with a disdainful look.

“What… dude, what is your problem?” You asked, your voice trembling.

Sukuna's expression remained unchanged. “Look here, if you want to kill yourself, do it somewhere else. I don’t want any trouble here, you hear me?”

His words were as harsh as the winter wind. There was no hint of sympathy, only a blunt demand for you to leave. The lack of compassion stung almost as much as the cold. You realized, in that moment, that his concern was not for your well-being but for his own convenience.

You looked at Sukuna, feeling a bitter mix of frustration and resignation. You can't even die in peace, you thought, but you nodded in defeat. “Fine,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“You see that building over there?" He pointed to the tallest building. "It’s taller. Trust me, you wouldn’t survive that one, so do it there.”

The harsh reality of his words cut deep, but there was a grim sense of finality in them. Sukuna’s indifference was almost a relief compared to the constant emotional turmoil you’d been through. You turned to leave, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders.

“Wait, little girl, come here,” Sukuna’s voice cut through the frigid air. You turned to see him sitting on a broken air conditioner, smoke curling from his cigarette. He was shrouded in a dark hood, his face was partially obscured, but his imposing figure was unmistakable. At well over 6'5", he was a mountain of muscle, dressed head-to-toe in black.

“Do you need a job?” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he took another drag of his cigarette.

Confusion etched on your face, you hesitated. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” he replied, unfazed by your surprise. “I have a job if you want it. Are you good with numbers?”

The offer came out of nowhere, and you weren’t sure if it was some cruel joke or a genuine opportunity.

“Yeah, I’m good with numbers…” you replied, your voice trailing off.

“Good, good,” Sukuna said, his tone almost indifferent. “You see, I need someone who can count money—lots of money—make sure it’s real, and handle drug calculations. You think you can do that?”

You thought about it for a moment. Considering you were on the brink of death and your situation couldn’t possibly get any worse, why not? What did you have to lose?

“Yeah, I can. When can I start?”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “You won’t even ask how much you’ll make?”

“I don’t care if it’s more than ten bucks,” you said, your desperation clear.

Sukuna’s smirk widened slightly. “Alright then. I’ll give you the details later. For now, just stick around.” He tossed a key and some cash at you. “From now on, you’ll live here. This place has a bed and a bathroom. I’ll get you whatever you need. Rest for today, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You caught the key and the cash, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. It wasn’t the kind of opportunity you had ever imagined, but in the face of imminent despair, it was something—an unexpected chance to pull yourself out of the abyss.

“Thanks,” you muttered, though you weren’t sure what you were truly thankful for. The promise of a bed and some semblance of stability, however tenuous, was a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil.

<^>

That was how it all began. The empire you and Sukuna would build, and in just a little over four years, you both were millionaires with so many properties and so many things ahead of you.

The empire was built on the bodies of people who were your enemies or were just in the way. You were the brains, while Sukuna handled everything else. You handled the drugs and money laundering while others managed other parts, but you brought in more money than any of them combined.

Of course, you had gotten into trouble before, or there were some spies within the ranks, but you both could overcome anything.

Over the years you had known Sukuna, you and he had gotten to know each other on a deeper level. People may not believe it or choose not to believe it, but there was no sexual relationship for the first four years of your friendship.

He had surprised you in so many ways, and you owed him your life, even if he didn't care.

You realized that he indeed had many undiagnosed issues, but you were not there to solve or figure him out, and that is what he liked about you. You weren't fixing or changing him; it was actually the other way around. He was doing the fixing.

He loved how easy it was to be with you. You just knew when to do or say things. No one could read Sukuna like you. No words were needed for you both to understand each other. Some people found it weird and disturbing, but he did not give a shit.

He never felt judged when it came to you. He could talk about the most outrageous things, and even if you did not agree with his ideas, you would listen and understand his thought process. No one had done that for Sukuna before.

He did not realize it, but he had come to depend on you in many ways, both emotionally and for business. He trusted no one and talked to no one except himself or you. This man could not trust his own shadow but trusted you with his money and where he had hidden it. Sometimes he even gave you some to hide for him.

One night while he was high, he told you about his crimes, and you asked many questions, all of which he answered correctly. You knew this man was and is evil and will continue to be his way. He would not change or be fixed. He told you that was why he did not like women too much.

"They all try to fix me. I don't need to be fixed, Y/N. You know that, right?"

Of course, you did. You nodded, rolling his joint. He told you what the business future would be and how it would move forward. Sometimes he told you about his long-lost twin brother, Sukuna, who was kicked out after his first kill. He had not seen him for a long time.

"Did you miss him?" He was now lying on your lap. You were both in bed. He had come to your house in the dead of night to talk. He liked to touch your skin—nothing sexual but just to cuddle you naked. That was when you saw his never-ending tattoos. He was like an art museum in a person. He was an art.

"I don't know. We were never close. He was a good person, and I cared for him. When we were hungry, I cooked for him, cleaned him, and was a big brother to him, even though we were the same age. He needed someone to look after him. Grandpa was getting old and was busy. I knew him in the womb; I should have eaten him there. I remember I was hungry…"

Things he said didn't make sense sometimes. He saw dreams and felt things that made no sense, but he saw and felt them.

The longer you two knew each other, the clingier Sukuna became. He slowly moved in with you. It took a year, but now he is here all the time. He slept in the same bed as you, but with his body and height, you had to upgrade the bed and quality. He even slowly started taking showers with you. Seeing each other naked was no surprise to you both.

He was not aroused, and you weren't either, but he had this constant need to touch you in some way and be closer to you. You two became inseparable. You two were slowly becoming one person.

It took a while for you to open up to Sukuna, but slowly you did. You two would sit in a bath and talk about your life, your trauma, your thoughts, and your dreams. You told him one day you wanted to go to art school and do something with that. The next day, he got you a notebook and hired someone to teach you art.

You came to realize Sukuna was selfish, an asshole, a psychopath, and all of the above, but he had a side to him, like the moon. There was an unseen and dark part of him that was so vulnerable and caring in his own twisted way. In his own way, cannibalism was love. Just like kissing, when he loved someone, he wanted to give himself wholly to others but also take the other person as a whole.

Not many people could handle that and match his intensity like you did. Sometimes you were more intense, and he got surprised by the things you said, like your opinions on current politics or the meaning of life, souls, human patterns, even as useless as celebrity gossip.

<^>

The first time he kissed you was on your 24th birthday, and after that, everything spiraled out of control. Your whole life, you had never been in a relationship or even wanted one. In this business, there were many men who tried things with you, but they got turned down quickly. It wasn't because you had someone in mind; you just weren't interested. Your view on relationships was shaped by your parents' marriage, and if that was what marriage looked like, you wanted no part of it. In a way, it was a trauma response, but who gives a shit.

He kissed you in bed after you had taken a shower and finished everything in your very dark house. He just got up and kissed you. The kiss was exactly how you imagined Sukuna's kiss would be. He might as well have sucked your soul out. You tried to get away, but he held the back of your neck tightly. You tried to hit his chest or push him away, but that just made him pull you even closer. Your lungs were burning, and the way he tasted made you feel fuzzy and dizzy. After the shower, he didn't bother putting anything on, and that just added to the strangeness of it all.

He had never shown any attraction to you unless you count the fact that he can't, in fact, live without you. He had seen every part of your soul and body. Yes, your relationship with him was strange and unique. At some point, you gave up and let him kiss you, your hand on his heart, and you could hear it. He was on another planet.

The kiss lingered, turning from something forceful into something almost tender. His grip on your neck softened, and his other hand moved to cradle your face. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, and the heat of his body against your skin. The room seemed to close in around you, with only the two of you existing in that moment.

When he finally pulled back, he looked at you with an intensity that was both frightening and mesmerizing. His eyes seemed to pierce right through you, as if he was seeing into the deepest parts of your soul.

“Why did you do that?” You whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Sukuna smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Because I wanted to,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

You wanted to argue, to demand more of an explanation, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just stared at him, searching for something in his expression that might give you a clue to his thoughts. But as always, Sukuna was an enigma.

From that moment on, things changed between you. The line between friends and something more became increasingly blurred.

Everything was the same, yet nothing was the same. The main difference was that Sukuna now had to kiss and suck your face for at least 10 minutes every hour. He seemed insatiable, constantly craving the taste and feel of you. His kisses were rough and intense, leaving your lips swollen and bruised. He loved to bite and suck your blood when he kissed you, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your head spin.

You tried to push him away at times, but this gigantic man wouldn’t budge an inch. He held you firmly, his strength overwhelming, and you had no choice but to surrender to his passionate advances. Despite the roughness, there was an undeniable heat between you, a magnetic pull that made it impossible to resist him.

Sukuna’s need to be close to you, to touch and taste you, became a constant in your life. He was possessive, always wanting you near, wanting to touch you, wanting your attention on him 25/8.

One night, you were both high and making out. He had started to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys. It was all going too fast, but he stopped himself, surprising both of you. When he met you the next day, he never talked about it.

Two months later, it happened again. This time, he did not stop himself. He looked into your eyes to see if you didn’t want it, but he saw nothing. He took you to his car and went to a secluded area, saying nothing, just caressing your thigh. What you two did was not sex or a fuck. It felt like you exchanged souls—some sort of ritual. It was dark and intense, and you were certain you saw Sukuna’s eyes become even redder and saw his eyes double.

It was your first time, and he knew it. It was slow; he bit and sucked your blood more than you could count. The drug in your system, with him being inside you and constantly blowing smoke on your face, made you just crumble. Your body was red and purple by the time he was done with you.

No one could touch you but him. You were his to keep and use.

You did not go out the whole week after that, and when you did, he told you that if any man or woman tried to touch you, he would kill them.

When you saw his eyes, you realized he was serious.

You had slept with a man with many issues and a dark past. He had no soul, no empathy, no nothing. His pleasure was yours. You lived to serve him.

Sukuna never made it official. He was an official liar and manipulator, but he had a soft spot for you. As long as he was not denying you, you did not care what others thought or said.

<^>

2 years later/present day

"How are you related to Sukuna Ryomen?"

"I am his wife."

"Do you have a marriage certificate to prove that?"

"Yes, but I do not have it with me now."

"How is your relationship with Sukuna?"

"I just told you." The black sunglasses you were wearing made it difficult to see your true emotions, but it was clear that he would not get any information out of you.

"Look, ma'am, we just want to help you, okay? If you could testify against your husband, trust me, you would not have any sentencing. You are the key here. You knew he was a monster and a killer. If you can just tell us what you know…"

"Look, officer, all I know and all I have ever known is that Sukuna is my husband. I do not know what kind of job he did or his business. Frankly, I do not care. And I will not testify against my husband."

The officer sighed, frustration evident in his eyes. He leaned forward, his voice taking on a more urgent tone. "Ma'am, you have to understand the gravity of the situation. Sukuna Ryomen is not just any criminal. He's involved in some of the most heinous crimes imaginable. If you don't cooperate, you'll be seen as an accomplice."

"I understand what you're saying, but Sukuna is my husband. I made my choice, and I will stand by him."

The officer leaned back, his frustration written all over his face. He wasn't getting anywhere with you, and he knew it. "Alright, ma'am," he said, standing up and gathering his papers. "We'll continue this tomorrow."

As he left, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Meeting with at least three officers a day was exhausting, but you had to stay strong. This was their plan—to wear you down until you slip up. But you wouldn't fall for it.

You understood their motives. Each officer wanted to be the hero who brought down the infamous Sukuna Ryomen, and you were the key to their success. What they didn't realize was that you had meticulously changed your identity, scrubbing your past clean. To the outside world, you were simply the mysterious and beautiful wife of Lord Sukuna. No one knew anything about your true background except Sukuna himself.

Sukuna had always been cautious, eliminating anyone who got too close to the two of you every two years. "People shouldn't know too much about us," he would say. "The less they see and know, the better."

You replayed the events that led to this moment in your mind. Sukuna had made just one mistake, a single misstep that had triggered this entire mess. It was a minor slip-up, but in his world, even the smallest mistake could have catastrophic consequences.

It had happened a few weeks ago. Sukuna had been working on a major deal, one that would have secured his empire's future. Everything had been meticulously planned, but an unforeseen variable—a mole within his ranks—had thrown everything into chaos. The mole had been planted by law enforcement, and their information had led to a raid on one of Sukuna's most important operations.

Despite his best efforts, Sukuna couldn't cover up the evidence. The raid had resulted in several arrests, and those arrested had quickly turned informants, pointing fingers at Sukuna. The authorities had pieced together enough evidence to launch a full-scale investigation, leading to your current predicament.

Sukuna had anticipated this and had made arrangements for your safety. "If they catch me," he had said, "you must deny everything. Stay strong. We have contingencies in place."

And so, here you were, facing daily interrogations, holding firm to your story. You would protect Sukuna, just as he had protected you. No matter the cost, you were determined to see this through.

Your marriage to Sukuna happened only a year ago, and it was the happiest moment of your life. You had hoped it was the same for Sukuna. The ceremony was simple and secret, just the two of you in the middle of the night. He had spent the entire day exhausting you with sex and kisses, and in a haze of intimacy, he had casually asked if you would marry him.

That was it. No grand gestures, no witnesses, just the two of you.

No one even knew you were in a relationship, let alone married.

After the marriage, Sukuna had insisted you quit working. He wanted to give you a normal life, one where you could do anything and meet anyone—as long as it was approved by him. Yes, he was beyond controlling and jealous, possessive, and exhibited every red flag in the book, but somehow, it worked. The relationship and the marriage worked.

You had always wanted to be on autopilot, to let someone else take the reins, and Sukuna was the ultimate control freak.

In his world, control was everything. He dictated the terms, and you followed, finding a strange comfort in his dominance. The life he gave you was one of luxury and protection, albeit with the caveat of his stringent rules. He monitored your interactions, vetted your acquaintances, and kept a tight grip on every aspect of your life.

Despite the constraints, there was a deep, undeniable connection between you. Sukuna’s intensity, his fierce protectiveness, and the raw passion he had for you made you feel alive in ways you had never experienced before. The way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world that mattered, made all the control and possessiveness worth it.

Your days were filled with a mixture of lavish experiences and quiet moments of intimacy. Sukuna showered you with gifts and affection, but it was the private moments that you cherished the most. The way he would hold you, his touch, both gentle and commanding, made you feel safe and loved.

The secrecy of your relationship added an element of excitement and danger. It was like living a double life, one where the outside world saw you as a mysterious figure, while only you and Sukuna knew the truth of your bond.

Now, as you faced the officers day after day, you clung to the memories of your life with Sukuna. The happiness, the passion, and the unwavering loyalty you had for each other were your anchors. You knew that no matter what they said or did, you would not betray him.

every time you try adjusting your chair, he somehow adjusts his positioning too. every time you glance toward the water, his massive frame ends up between you and the rest of the beach.

it turns ridiculous enough that you finally sit up and cross your arms.

“okay. what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing’s wrong.”

“satoru.”

he lets out a dramatic sigh before lowering himself onto the edge of your beach chair. his arm immediately wraps around your waist, pulling you closer against his side.

“you look too good.”

you raise an eyebrow. “what..?”

“you heard me.”

his jaw tightens slightly as his gaze drifts away, and toward the crowded shoreline. there are people everywhere, couples, groups of friends. just doing completely normal beach activity.

satoru, however, looks threatened by all of it.

“i was excited to bring you here,” he admits. “thought it’d be nice.”

“and?”

“and then you walked out wearing that.”

you let out a laugh. “it’s just a bikini..?

“i know.”

“that’s what most women wear at beach, no?”

“mhm,” he pouts, and his expression remains the same.

normally, satoru loves showing you off. he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder in public, kiss your cheek randomly, introduce you as his wife every chance he gets. he’s never been subtle about how proud he is to have you.

apparently, though, this situation has created some kind of internal conflict.

because on one hand, he clearly wants everyone to know just how pretty his wife is. on the other hand, he seems seconds away from carrying you back inside the hotel and locking every door.

“you’re jealous of.. strangers?”

“’m not jealous.”

his arm tightens around your waist as another group of people walks by. none of them are paying attention to either of you, but satoru tracks them anyway before immediately shifting closer.

you can practically feel the possessiveness radiating off him.

“you know,” you say, smiling, “if you’re that bothered, maybe you stop staring.”

he looks at you like you’ve said something absurd.

“how am i supposed to stop staring?”

he reaches up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“seriously…” his voice softens. “i can’t.”

the warmth of the sun, the sound of the waves, the distant chatter around you— it all fades into the background beneath the way he’s looking at you.

like you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

then his gaze flickers past you again, and his eyes narrow. “that guy looked over here.”

“toru!” you groan immediately. “you don’t even know if he was looking at me.”

before you can argue further, he stands up, grabs the beach umbrella beside your chair, and drags it several feet across the sand.

directly in front of you, and blocking your view of half the beach.

your mouth falls open. “okay. enough!”

“what?” he says innocently.

“move it.”

“nuh-uh.”

he squeezes back onto your chair, completely satisfied with himself as he throws an arm around your shoulders.

“now nobody can look.”

“seriously..?”

“as serious as can be,” he says, pulling you closer, then moving you onto his lap, “i feel way better.”

you bury your face in his shoulder to hide your giggles, and he takes the opportunity to press his lips against the top of your head.

after all, he still got exactly what he wants.

a beautiful beach, a sunny day..

and his wife all to himself.

"Mm, sure," he scoffs, unconcerned, and his tongue finds your clit again, lapping at it in quick, teasing flicks while his fingers pump in and out of you. "But you're the one who suggested I express myself. This is me, expressing. Passionately," he chuckles slightly at his words.

Again proving your point.

“All you do is deflect-” you groaned, he’s licking up every drop of you, chin and cheeks glistening, and when he pulls back to breathe, there's a string of slick connecting his lips to your folds. He wipes it with the back of his hand.

"Quiet," he hushes, tongue thrusting inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Your back arches off the bed, a strangled moan ripping from your throat. "Can't you see I'm speaking with my therapist?" he mumbles against you, the words vibrating through your core.

"I'm opening up. I'm sharing my feelings. My feelings are that I want to be buried in this pussy forever. Very profound. Very emotional. I know."

His thumb presses harder, and your vision goes white. You can feel yourself clenching around his tongue, your orgasm building, and Satoru knows it too because he doubles down, fingers replacing his tongue so he can suck your clit into his mouth.

"Come on, Doc," he murmurs, lips brushing your sensitive bud. "This is valid communication."

You whimper as your orgasm rips through you, and Satoru doesn't slow down, just keeps lapping at you through every pulse and shudder. His fingers are still buried inside you, feeling every contraction, and when you finally go limp, he pulls back with a satisfied hum.

"Excellent session," he announces, licking his lips. "I feel so much better. Cathartic even."

You're still panting, legs trembling, and he's already positioning himself between them, the bulge in his pants impossible to miss.

"But I think we need a follow-up appointment," he continues, tugging at his waistband. "I have some deep-seated issues that require immediate attention."

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