NYX

The weight of him overpowered your aching body, forcing your forehead to the floor. Your shoulders gave out. Muscles limped. Grinding the familiar taste of his disappointment between your molars.

This was nothing new.

All your life, you had only wanted one thing: to make him proud.

These four walls soaked in your blood, sweat and tears. They watched you grow, watched you harden, watched you train until your bones became rubber and you vomited cries.

All for the approval and intention of one man.

Your mentor, your handler, the object of your every twisted desire. Many times had you imagined his hands, always rough with you— between your thighs, training you how to take him. Fantasised about those glaring eyes as he split you open, took your first before some target on a seduction mission would. Desired that degrading voice on your ear, reminding you that you were worthless, but you were his, as he fucked you into these same damned floors.

Broken little things like you loved sharp rocks to cut their hands on and call their own.

At last, his foot let up. You waited a breath, attentive to his every move. He was in front of you now, his glare pierced through the back of your skull.

"Get up."

You obeyed. As you had been trained. Rising to your feet and raising your head, even if the floor would have been more merciful than his eyes.

Sukuna snatched your face. Callouses etched into your cheeks as he stumbled you forward in a yank. "Do you enjoy pissing me off?"

"No."

"No, what?"

His hand clamped.

"No. Sir."

Your words squished from his grip. Still, you narrowed your brows. The glare you learnt from him, as you spat every syllable.

He rattled your head, hard. Sneering as his face shot closer. "Don't give me that attitude you fucking brat."

This was the part where you backed down. Apologised. Bowed your head and promised to be better. You didn't.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, the ache in your bones, or the closeness of his face. Right there, a hair's breath. So close, so far.

So yours.

You kissed him.

Hard, and bitter, and blood on your mouth— you kissed him. With the clumsy charm of a virgin trained into a seductress. Shoving your broken body into him and stealing the air from his lungs.

For the first time in your life, you finally caught Sukuna off guard.

He stumbled, lost his balance and headed straight for the floor with a muffled grunt. The only time you ever took him to the ground— and it was from a kiss.

You collapsed into his hard body, parting for a breath, only to crash back into him. Your elbows dug into the floor beside his head. Fingers delved into his hair. You kissed him like it was a mission. A death wish.

Inexperienced in every right, but you didn't care. Not when his lips tasted like smoke and dreams, nightmares.

His hands snapped to your hips and your tummy fluttered. Air knocked from your lungs at the idea that maybe— maybe. Your fantasy would come true.

Strength came easy to him. In seconds your back hit the floor and he was on top of you. Burning into the kiss, harder, deeper. Kissing you with a crushing, dominating weight.

Until he finally shoved off.

A large hand clamped over your mouth and slammed your head back into the floor when you tried to chase after him.

Never had you seen Sukuna so… dishevelled.

Breath heavy, eyes hazed. His jaw so tight you were sure it might snapped. He stare asked questions he didn't want the answers to.

"Broken little girls really have no control, do they?"

Your heart sunk, but you did not regret it. Even when his glare returned and he pushed himself to his feet. Putting a distance between you that ached deep in your bones.

The fantasy shattered right before your very eyes. Shards across the floor. Melting into the failure with a new vice: disappointment.

Sukuna was across the room in seconds. Composed, cold. Not sparing you even a glance. Your kiss still fresh on his now scowling lips.

"Disgusting."

Before you could react, he was halfway out the door. Dragging your fractured pride with him.

But you heard it, the displeased murmur.

"What a way to waste your first kiss."

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. do not copy my fic layout. divider: @uzmacchiato . art: kinorilimaa (x)

  your landlord had maybe mentioned a backup generator, but it had to be manually turned on and he was out of town. your brain swirls around other ideas, however, with the storm as dangerous as it was looking, you wouldn’t be able to take the food anywhere. groaning, you stop thinking for a second, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself down. only for your heart to start racing again at the sound of knuckles knocking against your door.

  tilting your head, you stalk over to the door, peering through the small peep hole to see them. out there stands your neighbor, osamu miya, you remember. he helped move some of your stuff up to your apartment, maybe even mentioned being a chef. before you can open the door, he knocks again, hands then resting on his hips.

  unlocking the door, you crack it open, looking out at your seemingly pissed neighbor. “is your power out too?” he questions, features relaxing as he stares back at you.

  “yep- uh yeah, it just went out, not like the air conditioning was doing much anyway i guess,” your shoulders shrug absentmindedly, eyes unable to pry from his grey hues of his. 

  nodding, he reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck, eyes darting around the hallway. “yeah if you ever want a working air conditioner you’ll have to call the landlord constantly before he does anything about it. not right now… obviously, but you know,” he looks back at you, smiling.

  “he seems like the type,” you nod, opening the door a little wider, “but that is the least of my concerns right now, honestly.”

  “the storm is getting pretty bad, probably need to watch out for any tornado warnings. but that probably won’t be necessary,” thunder rumbles outside, osamu’s eyes peering past you and out your balcony’s windows. 

  looking back as well, your shoulders shrug, “i mean yeah, it looks rough out there, but also i have ice cream in the freezer that will absolutely melt in this heat, and i was really looking forward to it,” you turn back around, resting your forehead against your door. 

  “well why don’t you just eat some of it now, at least then you can enjoy even just a bit of it,” osamu laughs softly, leaning forward as one of his hands presses against your door frame.

  lifting your head, you think for a second that the ice cream would cool you down some as well. looking back at osamu, an idea pops into your head. “i mean, i know we don’t know each other that well but would you want to eat some of the ice cream? i’d rather it be enjoyed than just go to waste,” you open the door wider, raising an eyebrow at him.

  biting his lip, osamu tilts his head at your request, a mischievous glint in his eyes forming. “really? we’re practically strangers.”

  “yeah but you helped move me in, consider it payment,” you stand to the side, offering to let him walk in. 

  “well, i can’t say no to ice cream…” osamu steps into your apartment, looking around at the still wrapped up furniture and the mountains of boxes littering your living room and attached bedroom. 

  shutting the door behind him, you notice his wandering eyes, slight embarrassment bubbling to the surface. “sorry about the mess.. i haven’t had much time to put everything away. but the utensils should at least have a proper home,” you open a few drawers before remembering where you put them.

  “it’s moving mess, barely even qualifies as mess,” he attempts to ease your anxiety, hands resting on his hips again. your eyes graze the way his sleeves hug his biceps, and how his hair dips onto his forehead. 

  nodding, you turn around, heat rushing to your ears. pulling the freezer door open, you grab out a few pints of ice cream. “okay, miya, we have cookie dough, strawberry delight, and pistachio crème,” you set them down on the counter, quick to shut the door to help hopefully keep the rest of the goods frozen. 

  “well, which one do you want?” he leans against your countertop, the counter stools that you bought having still not arrived. 

  sliding a spoon over to him, you shrug before pulling the lids off of the ice cream. “they’re all good, but you’re my guest, you have first pick,” you lean over the countertop, watching as he crosses his arms in front of him.

  tilting his head, a smile makes its way onto his lips, eyes rolling incredulously at your attitude. the way his lips twitch upwards sends your heart racing, electricity seemingly sparking in the air (and you’re not quite sure it’s the storm). picking the spoon up, he stares down at the pints, “fine, i will take the… strawberry delight.”

  “oh thank god you didn’t say the pistachio,” you shove the strawberry over to him, picking up the pistachio for yourself.

  “you are- wow you are ridiculous,” osamu laughs, shoving his spoon into his pint of ice cream. shaking his head lightly, he looks back at you with half lidded eyes, heart practically skipping a beat.

  “what? i had my desired one but you are my guest, i wasn’t going to make you eat something you don’t want to eat,” you laugh in between words, scooping some of the pistachio out with your spoon.

  after eating some of his ice cream, he points the spoon at you, elbow pressed against your countertop. “you should come check out my restaurant at some point, onigiri miya, it would be on the house,” osamu steps around the countertop so he was closer, no longer across from you.

  sliding the ice cream with him, he sets it in front of him, sticking the spoon back into it. “really? well aren’t i lucky?” you take another bite of your ice cream, stepping a foot closer to him, your heart racing, “so how long have you been a chef?”

  “not too long, i was a line cook while going to school and then i climbed the ladder until i saved up enough to open my own restaurant.. with some investors and such,” he leans forward, the space between you slowly closing as your bodies magnetically intertwine.

  “you sound really dedicated, that’s- that’s a good quality to have,” you whisper now that he’s close enough, your voice low as you inch ever so closer. you’d never known yourself to be this way, to connect so quickly with someone, but now that he’s standing in front of you, grey eyes staring into yours, something unlocks itself in you. 

  “well, when i really want something, i try my hardest to get it,” osamu sets his spoon down, hand reaching over to pull you close, lips mere inches from you.

  just as you were about to kiss, a bolt of lightning brightens the room, a loud crack of thunder rattles his spoon on the counter. “holy shit!” you accidentally yell, you hadn’t expected it to be that close, your hand immediately reaching out to grab his forearm.

  “oh wow, that was loud,” osamu keeps his hand steady on your hip, letting out a sigh as you press your forehead against his shoulder, “i didn’t realize the storm had gotten so bad near us.”

  “neither did i, i was just really enjoying our conversation. and- and the ice cream of course, can’t go wrong with pistachio,” your head leans back, fingers not wanting to let go of his arm.

  staring back at him, you can feel the electricity bubbling around you. how his skin feels like static when you touch him, exciting and new. the way his thumb rubs your hip, right where the hem of your shirt is sends shivers up your spine. “can i kiss you?” the words come out of your mouth faster than you can anticipate, but not as fast as he can pull you closer.

  his lips lock with yours, hands reaching up to caress your face. he tastes like strawberry, the ice cream having left a delicious taste on his lips. pulling away, you stare into his eyes, hands having migrated to his hips. “strawberry tastes pretty good too.”

  “well, pistachio seems to be up my alley more.”

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