TinksPen

Things always played out the same way, with his crimson soaked hands wrapped firmly around your slender neck, sharp fingernails drawing blood while his fingers left pretty little bruises against your skin. He’d grunt as he bent you over his altar, guttural sounds of pleasure leaving his lips as he pressed his mouth against your ear. 

You’d sob and shake beneath him, hands raking desperately against the marble beneath you, tears dripping down your cheeks as you let him sink deeper into you than you’d ever allowed any man to go. 

He’d give you a taste of divinity, of real purpose. He was your god and you served him well, offering yourself fully for his own pleasure and entertainment, and he ate it up every time, filling you up with his seed and leaving you there once he was satisfied, with no regard for your own gratification. 

And there you’d remain in the oppressive silence, shivering at the foot of your shrine to him, awaiting his next visit with rapt enthusiasm. That was your role in this world, your only genuine purpose - you were to give yourself to him and in the times between you were to yearn for his return. 

You were to tend to his temple, greet his worshippers, and provide him with offerings. You were to sleep on the cold marble every night just in case he required your services, you were to have no family, lay with no man, for you were his in every sense of the word. 

Even if he would never be yours. 

Maintaining your oath had never caused you much trouble, for it was the only life you’d grown to know. You had been raised to be a priestess, had tended to the temple since you were eighteen - Sukuna, and your devotion to him, was the only thing that existed in your narrow worldview. 

That was how it was supposed to always be. 

Until one morning a different deity appeared at your door. 

It was a pleasant spring day, and the forest beyond the temple’s walls was brushed with rays of gold, so filled with life in stark contrast to the confines of your shrine. It was always cold in there, tainted with the vague scent of blood and death that followed Sukuna wherever he went. 

Even though you had never seen another of his temples, nor met another of his priestesses, you were certain that the uneasy darkness lingered in any place where he was worshipped. 

And yet, that darkness, which usually extended to your patch of woodland, seemed woefully absent on that temperate morning. On the contrary, the forest seemed more alive than you’d ever seen it, teeming with colour and life - a beauty that felt utterly foreign to your eyes. 

The cause of the change appeared without warning, manifesting between the trees, blue eyes alight with mischief as he strolled towards your humble temple. He had an otherworldly glow about him, a power akin to that of your own god, but rather different in nature. The air around him felt light and airy, like his mere presence could strip away any sense of despair. 

You didn’t know him. You didn’t know any god but your own. You weren’t supposed to. 

Nervously, you’d flinched back, stepping over the threshold back into your temple, peering past the open doors at the figure who came to a halt on your doorstep, a pleasant smile lighting up his handsome face. 

“Good morning,” he hummed, his tone chipper. “I hadn’t expected to find any humans out here - especially not a beautiful woman.” 

“Are- are you here to make an offering?” You asked, struggling to find your voice. You’d found yourself captivated by his ethereal beauty, your eyes skimming over his toned body and the beautiful white toga that adorned it. There was nothing monstrous about him like your own master, he was gorgeous in the most conventional of ways. 

“An offering? To him?” The god snorted as he gestured to the carvings littering the outer walls of the temple. “Absoultely not.” 

Fear fluttered in your heart as you took yet another step back into the comfortable darkness of your home. It felt like Sukuna was draping himself over you, keeping you safe from the stranger before you. For him to so casually put down your god was the gravest insult in this setting, and you wondered if Sukuna might strike him down where he stood. 

Perhaps he’d strike you down too, for even allowing yourself to bear witness to such heresy. 

“I don’t think you should be here.” You tried to sound as confident as you could, to turn this god away before he could cause any issue. You didn’t want any trouble, didn’t want to find yourself breaking any of Sukuna’s rules. 

“You don’t need to sound so afraid, I mean you no harm.” He took another step forward, his toes brushing against the threshold, peering into the darkness at you. “Come and step into the light, so that we can talk properly.” 

Even though you knew it was wrong, you found your legs obeying his command. There was something about the way that he spoke which commanded the same authority that Sukuna did, filling you with a terrifying desire to do as you were told no matter what your brain truly wanted. This god didn’t wield his authority with the darkness that your own master did, but the underlying implication was still there. 

He would have what he wished, and would employ any method to get it. 

Your legs carried you back outside, eyes wide as you observed the man before you. His blue eyes dragged over your form and you caught the way that they seemed to light up with glee. “You’re a gorgeous creature, aren’t you? Typical of Sukuna to keep such secrets to himself. What do you call yourself?” 

You told him meekly, averting your gaze down to the floor. Now that you were standing before him you found your heart racing unfathomably quick, oddly taken by his immense beauty. You’d allowed your mind to wander, to wonder what it would be like to have his delicate hands hold you. 

It was a thought that you were quick to chase away, for fear that Sukuna could hear every one of your deepest desires and punish you for the slightest deviation away from him. 

“How lovely. You can call me Satoru.” The name meant nothing to you. You’d been raised largely in isolation, taught by your parents your role at the temple and abandoned to silence at eighteen. If Satoru was some well-known god, it meant nothing to you. 

He didn’t seem offended by your lack of knowledge. Perhaps he’d expected it. 

“Are you out here all alone?” 

You were, the people in the closest town would bring supplies to you once a fortnight, and beyond that you were left purely to your own devices. It probably wasn’t wise to tell a strange man such a thing, but you got the sense that he’d know if you were lying. 

“I am.” 

“Oh, how I abhor the cruelty of your master, always keeping his poor worshippers in the worst of conditions. If you were my priestess you’d get to live in the most lavish quarters in some lovely city, surrounded by like-minded folk. No woman should have to linger alone in some dark forest.” 

“It suits me here,” you whispered. “I’ve always been here.” 

Satoru scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Then you simply don’t know any better than what your master has taught you.” 

You were certain that you didn’t need to know. With Sukuna the rules for your life were clear, what more could there be? It was an honor to serve him in the way that you did, it was what you were made for. You didn't need pity from some stranger. 

“Look at you, all confused by my words.” A hand reached out for you, your body shaking as a finger tapped the centre of your furrowed brow before withdrawing. “You can’t even begin to comprehend the unfairness of your life.” 

“It's not unfair,” you bit back, quietly. You mostly believed your words, but you’d be lying if you were wholly satisfied. You had no qualms about living in this place, or about serving your lord, but in the times between Sukuna’s visits you were hollow, desperate for him, caught up in wondering what he was doing, wondering how many other priestesses he treated just like you. 

You wanted him to be yours just as you were his, wanted his devotion to you. 

An impossible ask. 

“It is, but you can’t allow yourself to see it,” he said with a sigh, fingers dragging through his soft white hair. “You’re a great prize of his, you know. One of his favourites. He always likes to brag about your beauty but never wishes to share - he isn’t a man who likes others playing with what belongs to him, even when he has so much.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, not sure what to make of that. You wanted to be flattered but your joy was unraveled by the use of the phrase ‘one of his favourites’. For now he treasured you, saw you as something valuable amongst all he had. One day you’d slide down that list, once your looks started to fail you. 

“I’m here because I had to gaze upon the one that even a monster would desire so deeply.” Your eyes widened in surprise, studying the look on his face. You could sense no trace of dishonesty, his expression open and welcoming, his thoughts written across his face. 

The complete opposite to Sukuna’s perpetually guarded frown. 

“You were certainly worth the journey,” he continued, when you offered him nothing but silence. You should’ve told him to stop when he reached for you once more, but you remained frozen, completely dumbfounded as his hand traced along your soft cheek. It was a caress gentler than any that Sukuna had given you. 

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmured, terrified of what the consequences for his actions would be. You were surprised to find that you didn’t want him to stop, your heart battering against your ribcage at being shown such careful attention for once in your lonely life. 

It was a dangerous feeling.

“I would provide you so much more than he ever could,” he whispered, leaning forward. “I’d give you a place in the light, a place at my side. Beauty like yours doesn’t deserve to be hidden away, it should be celebrated.” 

Your breath hitched as he closed the gap between you. His nose brushed against yours, lips inching closer, and for a second you almost gave in, almost allowed temptation to win out over the oath that you’d bound yourself to. But you had lived a life of discipline, and when you pushed him back with all of your strength, it was your body acting on instinct. 

Kissing him wasn’t right. It would be a betrayal of everything that you lived for. Besides, your parents had warned you about schemes of other gods, warning that if you were to ever encounter one, you would find that they took great enjoyment in playing with humans. 

That was what this was. This man didn’t know you, didn’t care for you. You could feel the dislike for your master rolling off him in waves. He was here to humiliate his opponent, to claim something of his. 

You would be no pawn in his game. 

“I wish for you to leave,” you said as firmly as you could, your heart still fluttering in your chest. “My master would not want you here." 

There was a flicker of hurt in Satoru’s eyes, but he dropped his hands to his sides all the same, stepping back with a somber nod. “He wouldn’t, you’re right. But you should not wish to be here either, for you deserve more than the darkness he shrouds you in.” 

“It- it is what I have chosen.” 

“It is what has been forced upon you,” he countered, offering you a sad smile. “But when you one day choose to free yourself of it, I will be waiting.” 

And just like that, Satoru disappeared, taking the brilliant light of the morning away with him. For some reason you felt cold, an empty emotion not unlike that which would plague you whenever Sukuna would leave you broken and naked on the temple floor. It had been nice to talk to someone, nice to feel the sun on your skin. 

Even if it was all just trickery from some malicious man hellbent on separating you from your duty. 

It was a week after that encounter that Sukuna darkened your door again, in the manner he always would.

Your encounter went much as usual, speaking no words of greeting as he approached, his hands tearing at your clothes, fingers holding you with a bruising grip as he took you beneath him. He was as rough as ever and you enjoyed it all the same, soft whimpers echoing around the temple as you chanted his name like a prayer. 

But when he was done, he didn’t leave in silence as he usually would. Instead, he drew himself up to his full height, towering over your frail body which he’d discarded so carelessly on the cold floor. His red eyes were fixed on you with an unusual intensity, two of his hands resting on his hips while the other two crossed firmly over his chest. 

“You had a visitor this week. Didn’t you?” The question came out as a deep rumble, sending fear coursing through your vulnerable form. 

“Yes.” You kept your eyes down. You weren’t supposed to look up at him without his permission, he was too divine for your eyes to gaze upon openly. 

“And what did you think of him, this visitor?” 

You weren’t quite sure what to say. If you were to tell him the truth, to suggest that you found Satoru captivating in any way, you feared the punishment that may follow. On the other hand, if you tried lying only for him to realise that you were attempting to deceive him, that could land you in even deeper trouble. 

The last thing you wanted was to disappoint him. 

“He was…strange. He was like you but not.” You chose your words carefully, omitting your feelings on the matter. 

Sukuna let out an amused huff. “There is no one like me, little priestess. But to your untrained eye I can understand what you’re trying to say - he held a power beyond your comprehension, and by extension you find us to be similar.” 

Disagreeing with him would be foolish so you simply nodded in agreement, your gaze still trained upon the ground, even as you heard him shifting before you. He crouched, one of his lower hands pressing against your chin and raising your face to look at him.

“What of your opinion on him? Did you enjoy his visit? Do you yearn for him to return with all his foolish light and greenery?”

“No.” The lie slipped out before you could stop it, before you had the chance to truly consider your answer. 

He blinked, a slow grin spreading across his tanned face, his canines pointed and sharp, still dripping with blood he’d withdrawn from your neck minutes prior. “No? Such a well trained little thing,” he hummed, a hand coming down to your hair and stroking it with something akin to affection, like an owner praising their pet. “Though, I thought you’d know better than to lie to me.” 

The grip in your hair tightened, strands pulling at your scalp. A soft yelp left your lips, eyes welling with tears, your gaze still fixed on him as he’d commanded.

“I can hear your heart fluttering, your blood rushing through those delicate veins of yours. I think you wish to see him again, perhaps you yearn for him to visit you in the way I do.” 

You shook your head as best as you could while still confined within his firm grip. Even if you were curious about your visitor, infatuated by the light which he seemed to bathe himself in, you had no desire for his visits to be even remotely similar to Sukuna’s. The humiliation of being taken and abandoned by one god was enough, your heart would not cope with a second. 

“I’m loyal to you, master. Only to you.” 

There was a soft tremble to your voice, your skin prickling with fear. The look on Sukuna’s face was manic, like it always was when he’d fuck you, or when he’d dump a corpse on the temple’s doorstep. There was an electricity to him that told you he had little tolerance where Satoru was concerned, and as his hand twisted in your hair, you felt certain he’d tear your head from your shoulders. 

“Is that so?” He asked, his booming voice echoing around the temple. For a moment, a look which seemed almost conflicted flickered in his red eyes, but it was gone before you could truly verify its existence, replaced by his usual hardened gaze. 

“Yes. I take joy in nothing but serving you.” 

You were starting to grow cold, the chill of the temple’s marble seeping into your exposed skin. He’d seen you in this state time and time again, but to kneel naked before him and talk was different to being fucked by him, it felt too vulnerable, building an urge within you to cover yourself from his gaze. 

Fortunately, your mind stopped you from attempting to draw your arms across your breasts. You were his property and he could gaze upon you as he pleased, you had no right to obscure what had always been his. 

Releasing his grip on your hair, he let you crumple down before him. He then brushed the strands tenderly over your bare shoulders, gentle enough for you to mistake it for the touch of a lover. The coolness of his tone dispelled any such illusion as he whispered in your ear. 

“Make sure to remember it. Lie to me again or find comfort in that fool, and I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your pathetic little life.”  

And just like that, he was gone, the warmth of his breath still hot against your ear, your stomach churning with guilt beneath the weight of his bitter disappointment.

Satoru visited again the following day.

He was already waiting for you outside as you threw open the doors to the temple at dawn, leaning against a tree, skin glistening beneath the sun’s gorgeous rays. Doves were flittering around him, whistling away with some merry tune that seemed so out of place within the shadow of your temple. 

Once more, you found yourself faltering, glancing back towards the safety of your temple and wondering if you should barricade yourself inside, your master’s threat hanging heavy in your mind. 

But the warmth and comfort that the god before you exuded was attractive, pulling your feet towards him just like the first time, a moth to his brightly burning flame. He seemed overjoyed at the sight of your nervous figure before him, shuffling about and avoiding his gaze, jumping at every shadow in the forest behind him, as if Sukuna would emerge from the trees. 

“So nervous.” Satoru commented, blue eyes skimming over your form. “You have nothing to fear from me, lovely priestess.” 

“It is not you who I fear.” 

“Ah, of course not.” Pushing the subject no further, the god offered you a soft smile before lowering himself down onto the grass before you, sitting cross-legged on the ground. A flicker of confusion registered within you, for service to Sukuna had taught you that he was never to be beneath you, it would always be him towering over you. 

Satoru seemed to hold no such views, looking up at you easily. 

“Sit with me.” 

Glancing around once more, you shook your head. “I cannot. I told you before, you should not be here.” 

Satoru scoffed, a playful glint in his cerulean eyes. “He doesn’t know I’m here. We’re not all-knowing, and he’s off dealing with some war right about now, his attention couldn’t be further from you.” 

“He knew you were here before.” You pointed out, shuffling your bare feet awkwardly in the grass, pretending to find interest in the way your toes wrapped around the blades to avoid meeting the gaze of the being before you. 

“That was my error. I had been callous in my approach here the first time, unbothered by the idea of him knowing that I’d gone to look at what was his. For that I apologise. I had not realised the way in which it would impact you.” Satoru seemed genuinely sorry for his actions, worry creasing on his otherwise perfect face. 

Part of you wondered if it was an act, but you didn’t linger on the thought for too long. You hadn’t experienced kindness in a very long time, and that alone had your resolve wavering. 

“Please sit. I brought you an offering.” He patted the grass beside him, and you hesitated for just a moment before doing as he asked, intrigued at the thought of a god bringing you an offering. Sukuna had never given you anything, why should he? And yet, Satoru snapped his fingers and a whole spread of food appeared on the ground before you. 

It was a feast for Kings, an exorbitant amount, the likes of which you’d never witnessed in your lifetime. 

Stale bread and the odd bit of cheese had become the staple of your diet over the years, that was all the people from the nearby village were willing to spare for a priestess of a war god, especially when your region had been experiencing peaceful times for as long as you’d lived. 

“This is too much for you to offer me,” you said politely, trying to decline. You were concerned that indulging in wines and meats would be apparent to Sukuna on your breath, perhaps even on your body, for it might stop your skin from stretching uncomfortably over your bones like it did currently. 

Satoru shook his head, beaming at you. “This is nothing. Eat. You’re such a frail little thing, he clearly doesn't feed you enough, so let me help you.” 

You knew it was wrong, knew that you should turn down his offering just like Sukuna would want you to. After all, if your master believed your diet should be so limited, you were in no position to question his judgement. But your piety did little to override the desires of your body, and humiliatingly you could feel yourself starting to salivate. 

He didn’t have to know. You’d eat just enough to sate your hunger and that would be that. You didn’t need to overindulge. 

Hastily stuffing some grapes into your mouth, the pleased look on Satoru’s face emboldened you to continue. Even if he wasn’t the god you were supposed to serve, there was something about him that led you to desire his approval in the same way you desired Sukuna’s. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he could kill you just as easily as your own master could, if he so wished. 

“That’s it,” he chirped. “Enjoy it.” You grew so preoccupied with your feast, luxuriating in a range of flavours that you’d never known, that it came as a surprise to you when a warm hand brushed your neck, long fingers trailing delicately down your nape. 

You withdrew quickly, jumping like some frightened stray cat, eyes wide and worried, unsure of the god’s intentions. He remained unfettered, dropping his hand and studying you like you were a matter of greater interest than some common priestess. 

“Are you sure you’re no nymph? Perhaps some forgotten daughter of another god, cast out into the fringes of our minds?” The honeyed words had your pulse racing, unsure what to make of the compliment. It felt pleasant to be praised, but he was not the man you should be seeking praise from. “You’re so fair, it makes me want to hide you away from Sukuna.” 

He spat out your master’s name like a curse, something dark and unbefitting of his light and lovely voice. You said nothing, peering back at him as you remained crouched in silence. There wasn’t a chance that you’d even acknowledge such a statement, for you knew acknowledgement tended to count as consent amongst gods. 

Satoru shuffled closer once more, “this mark on the back of your neck, he left it on you?” His fingers were back on your skin now, pressing down on what you assumed must be a bruise. You hadn’t kept track of the marks on your body in a long time, aware that Sukuna would often leave them in his wake. They had never really bothered you. 

And yet, Satoru looked concerned.

“I suppose so,” you mumbled. 

Scoffing, he shook his head. “What a barbarian.” 

Again, you found yourself glancing into the darkness of the trees, despising the idea that Sukuna might potentially be listening in on the exchange, waiting for you to slip up. If he was, you wanted him to be certain that you weren’t going along with Satoru’s complaints towards him. 

“He’s not…a barbarian,” you whispered. Despite Sukuna’s treatment of you, it wasn’t so easy for you to cast aside your master. You loved him, you’d always loved him, it was practically built into your body. If he wanted to use you, he was free to do so, if he wanted to kill you, that was up to him. 

Satoru looked sad, carefully withdrawing his hand and dropping it into his lap. It was evident that he’d thought this conversation would go a different way. “Do you enjoy my company?” He asked. 

“I do.” There was no point in being dishonest. The green, airy atmosphere that he brought along with his presence was pleasant, and the opportunity to speak aloud to someone for once in your lonely life felt freeing, even if you knew it to be wrong. But that was where your rule-breaking would stop. You could dip your toes in the pools of possibility, but there were lines you would never cross. 

“I was here last night, you know.” He spoke. 

A chill ran through you at his words. 

“Is that how your visits from him always play out? Letting him have his way with you without so much as a hello? Receiving everything he could possibly want and then leaving you cold and shivering on the floor, praying for a sliver of his affection?” 

You wondered if Sukuna had known that Satoru was watching, if he’d revelled in the idea of an audience. Perhaps he simply didn’t care at all, why should it bother him if there was someone watching him lay claim to what was his? 

“That’s my role,” you said mechanically, upon the realisation that Satoru was waiting for an answer. 

“And again I must ask, you’re happy with that role?” 

“Yes.” 

“Happy for him to leave you in solitude? To take you with such violence and then berate you for talking to another, all while he’s free to do as he pleases?” 

“Yes.” You lied, more than happy to pretend that you didn’t spend your nights dreaming of more, fantasising about a life in which you could stay in Sukuna’s embrace, rather than wrapped in the cool emptiness of his temple. 

“And when you grow older? When your looks start to fail you and he ceases his visits, how do you think you'll feel about your role then?” 

The anxiety gripped your heart like a vice. The thought of Sukuna discarding you entirely was something you’d often considered, seeping into the cracks of your mind on your loneliest nights. There was nothing you could do to stop it, for time would march on and you would age, and he would find some new beautiful priestess to have as his favourite. 

“You’ll miss him.” Satoru said, answering the question for you. “You’ll lament and suffer and wish that he’d given you something to keep. You’ll realise that all your faith and devotion meant nothing to him, while he meant everything to you.” 

Tears began to stream down your cheeks before you could stop them, and you found yourself recoiling away from Satoru, feeling suddenly cold. 

“There will be no worth to your life, no honor given to you for your devotion and service. He’ll discard you, just as he discards everything that no longer qualifies as interesting to him. If your loneliness is strong now, it is nothing to what it will be when he’s gone for good, fascinated wholly with another while you wither into obscurity.”

A whimper escaped you, tears dripping onto the grass below as the god before you laid out the future that you’d never wished to consider. Perhaps he was the god of prophecy, witnessing your fate even before it could play out, but he didn’t need to be for your path to stand clear - it had always been obvious to you that things could only end one way. 

Sukuna would cast you out, and that would be that. 

“I don’t- I can’t-” 

“Shhh.” Satoru moved closer, curling around you in a gentle embrace. “Not all is lost.”

Shoulders shaking, you let him hold you, overwhelmed by such a lovely show of warmth and affection that you’d lacked your whole life. He was cooing quietly, stroking your hair with one hand and wiping your tears with the other. It was like he’d ripped your broken heart from your chest just so he could prove to you that it was in pieces, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with that. 

You shouldn’t have huddled up against him, shouldn’t have allowed his comfort, but what was a mere human supposed to do? Whether you obeyed Sukuna or not, the outcome of him casting you aside one day wouldn’t change. 

At least for now, if you disobeyed him, you could experience comfort for once. 

The two of you stayed there for a long time, long enough that by the time Satoru was pulling away, you felt like you’d almost melded into his slender form. “I can make you my priestess, I can make you my world. Beauty like yours is rare, and would never cast it aside like he does, not in old age. I would leave you not in solitude, but keep you in the warmth of my arms for eternity if you’d allow me.” 

“I can’t, I’m his, I want to be his, I-” 

“He’ll never be yours.” His blue eyes were sparkling as he regarded you with a serious look, one filled with desire. “But I can be. I have gazed upon you for longer than I should admit, have stalked about in these woods and watched Sukuna mishandle beauty that deserves more. Let me give you more.” 

Your stomach was churning with anxiety, not sure what to do. Your mind and heart were screaming away about your loyalty to the only master you’d ever known, to the god that you loved, reminding you of the consequences for even hearing Satoru’s offer to completion. 

But there was no denying the desire in your body. 

You felt warm for the first time in eternity, and you didn’t want the softness of Satoru’s touch to leave you. If you couldn’t be held by the one you loved, then it was better to be held by another than abandoned to loneliness when Sukuna grew tired of you.

Satoru’s fingers were grazing your cheeks with the utmost care, so gentle compared to your master’s rough hands. You mewled softly under his touch, pathetic in the way you leaned up against him, letting him pet you affectionately like you were some treasured cat. 

You’d never had much of your own autonomy, always reliant on gods to tell you what you needed to be. You supposed whether that god was Sukuna or Satoru made no real difference. But if one’s light would stay, allowing you to bask in its warmth for a time, that was preferable to one who would leave you to starve in the dark. 

As Satoru pulled you up from the floor, you allowed yourself to be cradled within his strong arms, too distraught over the matter of your master to register the peril involved as the god crossed the threshold into the temple, a domain where he was surely not welcome. 

Seemingly unphased, he took a seat on one of the marble benches just before the altar, holding you carefully in his lap and drying away the last of your tears. “There, there,” he soothed. “Let me look after you.” 

Allowing yourself to melt into his arms, you did nothing to prevent the slow brush of his pink lips against yours, mouth parting for his tongue as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You supposed that in a way, it was, Sukuna had taught you nothing but obedience, so with Satoru’s grip so firm and welcoming, what were you supposed to do if not obey? 

Satoru’s lips tasted surprisingly sweet, the faintest taste of cherry lingering upon them. One of hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth in a manner that was more curious than domineering. Your fingers gripped at the fabric of his clothes, anchoring yourself to him, like you might lose yourself in his kiss. 

There was no attempt made to prevent his other hand from wandering to the shoulders of your dress, slipping the loose fabric down your arms and allowing it to pool at your waist. Your nipples were perked, whether from arousal or the cool air of the temple, you weren’t quite sure; any thoughts on the matter fled your mind as Satoru broke the kiss and hoisted you up a little, letting his lips find one of your nipples, his tongue flicking against it before taking that sensitive bud into his mouth. 

It pulled a pathetic little whine from you as you clung desperately to his shoulders. This wasn’t something that Sukuna had ever done. His focus had never been on your pleasure, but on meeting his own needs - to experience such devoted touch felt strange, but not unpleasant by any means. 

One of Satoru’s hands moved up your leg, pushing beneath the remaining fabric of your dress and finding itself in the space between your thighs. His long fingers navigated carefully over your pussy, with a gentleness that your master had never possessed, moving slick through your folds and circling a spot which had you whimpering. 

For a few minutes, you were lost in it all. You were off somewhere else in your mind, in some lovely field that befitted Satoru’s pleasant atmosphere, where the two of you could lay beneath the sun and make love amongst the flowers for all eternity. 

It was an illusion that shattered quickly. 

Satoru was just in the process of repositioning you. He’d discarded your white dress entirely, carrying you over to the altar and lifting you to sit atop something that you’d previously only ever been bent over. He’d spread your legs and knelt down before you, peering up from his place beneath you with an expression laden with desire. 

His breath had fanned over your exposed core, your body trembling at his proximity, in desperate anticipation of what it might feel like to have his tongue pressed up against you. 

But the moment he leaned in to give you what you’d been awaiting with bated breath, a large hand found its way into your hair and dragged you violently to the ground. You yelped desperately, struggling beneath an unwavering grip, your shoulder aching where it had bashed against the marble. 

“Stay still.” The voice was cold and bone-chillingly familiar. 

Sukuna wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were fixed evenly on Satoru, who was carefully picking himself up off the floor. His neck and chest was stained with a gold liquid, flowing from a cut which was swiftly closing itself up on his pale neck. 

Blinking, panic began to rise up in your chest. You wanted to fidget, to beg Sukuna for mercy and forgiveness, but such an action would be foolish, so you stayed deathly still in his grip, a rabbit accepting its fate within the jaws of a wolf. 

“I suppose you find this amusing, an attempt to defile what’s mine within my own temple. Did you think I wouldn’t know?” Sukuna’s voice was calm, with a dangerous edge to it. He was addressing Satoru alone, still not bothering to spare a glance at you. 

Satoru shrugged, an impish grin spreading across his face. “I thought you were busy.” 

Sukuna scoffed. “If I broke into one of your frivolous brothels that you refer to as temples, you’d know the second I took a step over the threshold. So what was this? An attempt to upset me?” 

“Why would you be upset?” Satoru asked, pleasantly. 

“You know I don’t like to share,” he said, his grip on you tightening. 

“You have any number of lovely priestesses, where’s the harm in letting me have one?” Sukuna’s red eyes flickered with annoyance, and for the first time he looked at you, a mix of fury and disappointment present on his terrifyingly beautiful face. 

“And you. How dare you?” He asked, dismissing Satoru’s question entirely, his full attention fixed on your quivering form. “Speak.” He barked when you failed to answer swiftly. 

“He- I- I’m sorry-” 

There was no explanation for your lack of loyalty, nothing beyond admitting that you were afraid to be alone, that you loved Sukuna so deeply that you could no longer bear the nature of your relationship. But telling him that would make him just as angry as telling him nothing. 

You weren’t supposed to want anything. You were nothing more than a servant to him with no will of her own. 

You yelped as he slapped you hard across the face, ears ringing at the force of the blow. “I should kill you for this, rip you apart for offering yourself to another. To receive what I give you is an honour, and you’re too much of a whore to be thankful.” He spat.

“I am, I am thankful.” You were mumbling as you tried to sit up, stumbling over your words as one of Sukuna’s hands came to press down on your delicate neck. “I’m sorry, it was a mistake, I didn’t mean to- I was scared-” 

“Scared?” Sukuna’s tone was mocking, his eyes alight with fury. “Scared of him?” He asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of Satoru, who was watching on with detached curiosity. The sight made your stomach churn, because that man’s honeyed words had moved and confused you and now he seemed unbothered by the whole matter. 

Such was the way of gods, as your parents used to say. Mortals were little more than ants to them. 

“Not scared of h-him.” Your answer was honest, because you didn’t truly believe Satoru to be a threat to you. Had you turned him down outside you were certain that he would’ve left you be, the issue was that he’d understood exactly what to say to get you to give in.

You were a fool, falling for nothing more than a silver tongue.

“Then what? Because there is nothing you should fear more than my wrath, little priestess, I thought you were smart enough to understand at least that.” 

His grip was tightening as he leant more of his weight atop you, keeping you helplessly still. Your lungs started to burn, fingers reaching up to grapple at his wrist to no avail.

You could hardly fend off a human man, let alone the god of war himself. 

“I fear- I fear your absence.” You confessed honestly, humiliation filling you at the sheer patheticness of your words. It was an insult to voice such things, to expect that you’d be worthy of his time or attention in any capacity. 

Sukuna’s red eyes flew wide at your words and his grip faltered ever so slightly. “My…absence?” 

“Yes,” you whispered. “One day you’ll leave me alone in the dark for good and I’ll h-have nothing.” 

For a moment he was silent, brow furrowed as if in thought, before seemingly regaining his composure, his expression hardening.

“So you thought to whore yourself out to this fool instead?” He spat. “Forsake everything I’ve taught you, the very vow that you should live by, because you’re afraid of being lonely?”

You nodded as best as you could beneath his grip. “I’m sorry-“

“Pathetic. I’d thought of you as one of my best. I suppose I misjudged you.”

The disappointment in his tone had tears prickling at your eyes, filled to the brim with guilt. In the heat of the moment, Satoru’s points had made sense, had tugged at all your deepest fears. But now, with Sukuna’s weight pressing down upon you, all you could think about was how much of a fraud you were.

How spectacularly you’d failed at the one thing that gave your life meaning. 

“Are- are you going to kill me?” Your voice was tiny, for beneath the judgement of your cherished master you were nothing more than a scared girl who understood little of gods and their whims. 

Again, there was a flicker of something uncertain on Sukuna’s face, like he hadn’t anticipated those words to fall from your lips. You barely tensed as his fingers tightened around your throat once more, leaving you certain that he was moments from squeezing the life from your fragile body.

Part of you hoped Satoru would step in, but it was clear that he wouldn’t, simply lounging on one of the marble benches, watching the exchange with rapt attention. It was becoming apparent that he hadn’t had your best intentions in mind, no more of a friend to you than Sukuna was.

Perhaps all he’d wanted was to have some fun with some poor, hapless mortal.

Letting your eyes flutter closed, you sank back against the marble, accepting the fate Sukuna had deemed befitting of your crime. But before the sweet release of death could find you, the grip on your neck disappeared along with the weight of his body above you.

“You’re not even worth that,” Sukuna hissed, leaving you crumpled and gasping for breath, utterly confused and broken by his decision. “Drown in your sorrow, for I’ll give you nothing.” 

It was the perfect humiliation, a suggestion that you weren’t even worth attention in the form of death, and before you could stop yourself you were sobbing openly, your cries bouncing around the marble walls.

Sukuna paid you no mind, heavy feet slamming across the floor in the direction of the doorway, only to freeze at the sound of Satoru’s calm voice from behind him. 

“Like you’ve ever given her anything.”

“What?” Sukuna hissed, peering over his shoulder. 

“You heard me. She told you what she feared, why she did this, and you still don’t understand. You’ve always been a fool,” Satoru chirped. 

Sukuna remained frozen to the spot as the white-haired god approached you, crouching down behind you and pulling you carefully into his grip. 

“How many times have you visited this temple, Sukuna?” Satoru’s fingers were toying with your body, running across your soft skin. His fingers brushed over your nipples and you flinched ever so slightly, your breathing picking up as his hand moved between your legs. Despite the situation you could feel your arousal growing, the sensation only heightened by the crimson eyes fixed fiercely onto your figure. 

“What does it matter?” 

“Do you remember?” Satoru purred against your ears. 

You nodded, struggling to find your voice. “Eighty-three times.” You whispered, meekly. You could remember each visit with staggering clarity, no matter how similar each one may have been. 

Satoru whistled. “That’s a lot. How often do you visit your other temples, Sukuna? Once? Twice? Never?” 

The fingers dancing over your skin didn’t stop, and you felt that familiar pleasure building beneath Satoru’s touch, a pleasant comfort buzzing through your veins and chasing away the desperate fear which had plagued you moments ago. You saw Sukuna’s throat bob, a flicker of something deeply unhappy in his eyes as Satoru slipped a finger into you once more, all for him to see. 

“I don’t see why it's any of your concern,” he said, finally.

“No? I suppose you don’t mind then, that I’m doing this to your favourite priestess. I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I made her one of mine, fucked her over my altar just like you used to.” 

“I suppose not. She’s nothing. Just some pretty mortal who can’t even follow rules.” Sukuna’s tone was even, but still he didn’t move. His eyes were watching Satoru carefully, as if assessing his next steps. 

“Great.” Satoru picked you up, and sat you down on the altar once more, back in the position that he’d put you in so carefully before Sukuna’s arrival. “I won’t waste any time then.” Discarding his own clothes, he dropped them down onto the marble. Your eyes scanned his form nervously - you were accustomed to being with Sukuna, familiar with his size, and found yourself glad to see that Satoru was smaller. 

Not that you meant that in any sort of disparaging way. 

He had a pretty cock, still thick and girthy, but the type that would bring you pleasure rather than stretch you out to the point of pain. Satoru smiled as he gazed down at you, a reassuring look that had your heart fluttering. Carefully he cupped your face, running his thumb over the purple bruise blossoming over your cheek. 

Fingers clinging to his shoulders, you sucked in a breath as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds. And yet, you couldn’t keep your attention fixed on the man before you, your gaze instinctively drifting to the hulking god standing in the doorway. His red gaze met yours, and there was a moment of terror in which you wondered if he’d kill you for looking at him without permission. 

Instead, he held your stare, your heart beating harder as Satoru started to push into you, imagining that it was Sukuna holding you so tenderly, pushing into you with care and desire beyond animalistic need. 

“Stop.” Sukuna uttered the word in such a low tone that you weren’t quite sure you’d caught it, figuring it was a hallucination born from your own need for the god. When he repeated it a second time, there was no mistaking its reality, for it came out as a bellow, a new deep cut appearing across Satoru’s back. 

And then another.

And another. 

Until the white-haired god was covered in a litany of slashes, pulling back from you swiftly, leaving you cold in your propped up position upon the altar. Your body began to tremble, hardly noticing the way Satoru was cursing off to the side of you, desperately trying to heal the damage Sukuna had caused to him. 

You were too transfixed by your master storming towards you, wondering if Satoru’s slight had led Sukuna to change his mind about killing you. 

With your breath picking up desperately, you were sure that you looked utterly terrified as he came to a stop before you, towering over you just as he always did. His shadow completely eclipsed you, and the hairs on your arm were standing on end, the desire to run overcoming you. But you’d seen what had happened to Satoru, a being who couldn’t be killed - one singular slash would spell your end. 

“Tell me,” Sukuna said calmly. “What is it that you want? Do you despise me? Do you long for him and his temples of light?” 

“No.” 

“No?” 

You shook your head again. 

“Then what?” 

“I told you already.” Your voice was soft and small. “I love you, and I want- I want you to love me.” It felt pathetic to say out loud, to give voice to a request so selfish and impossible. What were you to your master? 

Nothing more than a mortal priestess. 

And yet, after a moment of thought, he answered your question seriously. “I am no god of love. It is not something I could give to you even if I wanted to.” 

Before he could say anything further, he was interrupted by the sound of Satoru’s laughter. The sound came out a little odd, making a gargling noise like he was choking on his own blood as he desperately tried to heal his wounds. “You’re such a fool, Sukuna.” 

Glaring at him, Sukuna’s brows furrowed and another slash appeared across Satoru’s chest. It didn’t seem to phase him - in the time that you’d spent with him, you’d come to realise that few things did. 

“Why do you visit her so frequently? Why indulge in her flesh when you have countless others? What reason can you give?” Satoru pushed. “I have seen you murder for matters most frivolous, but when you find her, your most devoted little thing, in the arms of another you let her go free? Cause her no more injury than a mere strike?”

“I do as I please, I need to offer you no explanation for my actions.” Sukuna hissed, still pinning you beneath his gaze as he dismissed his peer. 

“No, but maybe you should try offering yourself one.” 

Sukuna was frozen, his expression unchanging as he stared down at you. You weren’t sure what to make of the glimmer in your eye, feeling completely exposed beneath his gaze. You wanted to sink into the floor, didn’t want to endure any further humiliation or dismissal. You understood your place with great clarity, you needed no further confirmation. 

“I’m sorry, please, there’s nothing wrong with our arrangement. I’m wrong to be upset. It's my role to serve whatever you desire. I’m sorry.” You chanted out apologies like a prayer, unsure as to what was going through Sukuna’s mind. You were shifting about awkwardly on the altar, feeling too vulnerable beneath his gaze. 

“Oh stop, you. That’s not what you really think.” Satoru cut in. “I’ve been watching you long enough to know your mind, and I’ve always known his. I’d appreciate it if you both stop wasting my time.” 

“Stop wasting…?” You faltered, falling silent, struggling to understand Satoru’s words. He ran a hand carefully through his hair, gaze flickering between you and Sukuna. 

Sukuna's brow furrowed further, finally pulling his gaze from you to look at his fellow god. “I knew you were playing some kind of game.” 

“Oh please, you constantly go off to some poxy little temple on an island forgotten by all of us and expect me not to notice something odd? I had to take a look at what had captured your attention, and to see how you were handling it made me feel embarrassed. I figured I’d give you a push in the right direction. Now go on. Stop lying to yourself.” 

For a moment, it seemed like Sukuna might make a move to attack Satoru, clear rage smouldering in the crimson of his eyes. But by some miracle, his attention turned back to you, and that anger dissipated, giving way to an expression which you were unfamiliar with. 

Shaking, your breath hitched as his fingers trailed beneath your chin. You couldn’t follow what was happening, struggling to piece together the role that Satoru had played here, unclear on whether Sukuna had forgiven you, half convinced that he’d behead you for the annoyance that Satoru had caused him. 

Instead, he leant forward, breath fanning against your face. 

“Do you even know how to kiss?” Satoru interrupted. “She likes that, you know, seemed desperate for it when I-”

“Silence.” 

Sukuna’s thumb stroked along your jaw, and you blinked nervously, eyes darting anywhere but his face. This was uncharted territory, unaccustomed to facing him like this at all, let alone being treated with such tenderness. Anxiety swirled in your stomach, conscious that this act of warmth might be something final.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and you did, staring directly into the deep crimson of his eyes. 

The kiss that followed was slow, stealing the breath from your lungs as his lips pressed against yours, almost tentatively. It was in stark contrast to his usual vigor and aggression, the contact careful in nature.

His tongue pressed into your mouth, dominating you as was always his way, but not devouring you completely as he usually would. The exploration was more like a dance, his tongue flicking curiously against yours as one of his hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

The warmth of his body was new to you, accustomed solely to the weight of him taking you from behind, completely detached from heat and affection. To feel his chest against yours, radiating heat against your smaller form, had your heart racing. 

“Not so hard, is it?” Satoru quipped, only for Sukuna to pull away for a moment and fix him with a glare.

“I will chop you into pieces.” 

“Pretend I’m not here.” Satoru raised his hands defensively, and that seemed to be good enough for Sukuna, his attention turned back to you. Your lashes were fluttering, legs pressing against his waist, the sweat forcing your skin to stick against his. 

“What-”

“You should stay quiet too.” He spoke, albeit more softly than the sharp tone directed to Satoru. “Lest I change my mind.” 

You took his order as gospel, clamping your mouth shut and deciding that you didn’t need an explanation at that moment, despite your confusion. If he was going to treat you with reverence, you’d rather experience such a thing firsthand than force an explanation out of him.

There was no way you’d take the risk of disrupting whatever was currently taking place. 

Leaning in once more, you instinctively closed your eyes at his approach, a little surprised as he stalled just before contact, the skin of his lips ghosting against yours. A hand went to your cheek, brushing over the flowering purple bruise. Wincing, you found yourself watching him carefully, like a deer assessing a new being in the forest, one whose level of threat remained unclear. 

Caressing the bruise, he let out a heavy sigh before a lovely sense of warmth spread through your face, emitting from his hand. Moments later it was gone, along with the throbbing pain in your cheek, like he’d undone the damage he’d caused.

Before you could question it or thank him, his lips were on yours once again, soft and enticing, pulling you against him in an embrace that felt reserved for lovers, rather than one of a god getting his fill of a servant. 

His four hands started to roam over your body, brushing your breasts, squeezing your thighs, feeling you as if it were the first time his hands had touched your flesh. One of his hands moved between your legs, experimentally moving the slick through your folds, a thick finger dipping into you. 

Such attention had you whining against him, a sound that was swiftly swallowed by his lips. His finger was thicker than Satoru’s had been, working you open carefully, an action he had never thought to take in the past. You couldn’t understand the effect that Satoru had created within him, unsure as to how he’d gone from hitting and rejecting you, to offering you affection he’d never allowed before. 

He slid another finger into you, stretching you out until he was satisfied, his lips locked against yours until he was pulling his fingers back. “Suck.” He ordered gruffly, a trace of his old self present in the way his fingers pressed against your lips, forcing their way into your mouth. 

Satoru made a sound of disapproval in the background, reminding you of his presence, but if Sukuna heard, he paid the man no mind. He seemed too focused on your body spread out before him, your wide eyes looking up at him nervously. 

He shed his clothes in a single action, letting the fabric pool on the floor beside yours. Your eyes instinctively moved down to where his cock hung heavy between his legs, the monstrous size never failing to steal your breath away. You could hardly believe the number of times he’d sheathed the thing within you without any effort of preparation, your body adapting because it was what he required. 

This time was different. 

Mirroring the treatment that Satoru had given you earlier, Sukuna carefully ran the tip of his cock through your folds, red eyes fixed on your face. You felt shy, eager to turn your face away. It was easier to do this in the manner he usually would, with you bent over while he took you from behind. Gazing upon him so openly felt too vulnerable for your liking, even if the lust in his eyes had your heart racing. 

“You are my favoured one.” Sukuna’s voice was deep, “understand that, because I do not wish to speak more on the matter.” 

Lips parting, the question of what that meant dangled on your tongue. To you it suggested the situation was the same as before - for now he favoured you, in a few years time the matter would be different. 

He seemed to understand your concern before you could voice it. 

“I will not toss you aside for something as trivial as old age. To attract my attention is something significant, not a matter of simple youthful looks.” A yelp fell from your throat as he pushed himself into you, easily filling you to the brim, just like he always would. 

You had a million questions running through your mind, wondering where his true feelings towards you lay. It was clear that Satoru understood him better than you did, pushing him to some sort of conclusion that he wouldn’t have stumbled upon on his own. 

“Do not betray me again.” He huffed in your ear, breath warm against your skin. “Do so and I will not forgive you, you’ll receive no more mercy than my enemies would. But cling to your loyalty and I will give you what you seek. You’ll have my attention, my affection, for as long as you deserve it.” 

“I’ll offer you everything.” The words came out breathy, your body twitching as he withdrew himself from you only to fill you up once more, rewarding you with long deep strokes that held far more affection than the frenzied fucking that you’d usually receive from him. 

You found your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, drawing blood and marring his perfect form with each brutal thrust, simply trying to cling onto him. Your cries were loud, echoing within the marble just as they always had, but the nature this time was different, for your cries were ones of pleasure rather than desire for more. 

Sukuna’s breaths were heavy, rasping hard against your ear with each smooth movement of his hips. The passion had your eyes rolling back in your skull, babbling out his name pathetically, demonstrating your loyalty to him in your ecstatic reaction to his actions. 

This was all you’d ever wanted. 

An opportunity that had once seemed impossible. 

His fingers were bruising your thighs, pulling you closer with each stroke, and as your thighs tightened around his hips, one of his hands slipped down between the two of you, rubbing that sensitive nub that he’d never deigned to touch before, always too focussed on chasing his own gratification. 

Lights danced in your eyes at the contact, a desperate cry of his name ripping from your throat as you squeezed around him, cumming on his cock. It felt almost humiliating to find pleasure before him like that, something that he’d never been interested in witnessing in past visits. 

If you ever came with him inside of you before, it was an accident rather than intention. 

This time, he seemed to have driven you to it, nipping at your neck and circling your clit carefully, even after you’d gushed all over him. 

Of course, his hips still didn’t let up, fucking you fast and deep until he reached his own release, his arms wrapped tight around your smaller form, pulling you as close as humanely possible as he poured his own seed into you, finding satisfaction in the way that it dripped down your sweaty thighs and onto the altar below. 

Past experience led you to believe that he’d pull away immediately, dropping you down unceremoniously onto the ground, with little regard to the damage it might cause your fragile body. 

But this time he did no such thing. 

He lifted you carefully, cradling you within his muscular arms and sitting down upon the cool floor, keeping you warm within the confines of his lap. Your heart was speeding at one hundred miles a minute, your fingers pressing against his chest, clinging to him as if he’d disappear if you let go for even a moment. 

A hand was brushing your hair, another stroking your thigh, while two were wrapped firmly around your midsection. All four of his eyes were fixed on you too, no distractions in the manner you’d come to expect from him, his focus was on you alone. 

You were his, and at least to some extent, he was yours. 

“How sweet.” Satoru’s saccharine voice sounded from across the room. The god was leaning his face on his hand, blue eyes sparkling as he watched the exchange. Sukuna straightened up ever so slightly, fixing him with a glare. 

“Leave,” he commanded. 

“Aw, not even a thank you? You’re so ungrateful.” The white-haired god stood up, a pout fixed on his pink lips. 

“A thank you for doing your job? No one thanks me for starting wars, so why would I thank you for orchestrating a union? Love is nothing special.” 

“I could’ve sabotaged your love. Kept that pretty little thing all to myself.” He pointed in your direction, offering Sukuna a toothy grin. “In fact, if you cross me I still might. I can make people fall out of love too if I so wish, irritate me and I’ll put a curse on your favoured mortal.” 

Sukuna’s face was stormy, his grip tightening on you in a manner that felt almost protective. “Meddle in matters of my heart ever again and I’ll cut you to pieces and spread them across the corners of the globe. I’m sure no one would miss a few centuries without you.” 

“So prickly.” Satoru rolled his eyes. “I hope you’re kinder to her. How she could ever fall for you is beyond my reckoning.” 

Sukuna peered down at you, and through the centuries of malice lining his ancient, war-scarred face, you could see it - the soft twinkle in his eyes as he met your gaze. The sharp edges of a god of massacre, tempered only for you. 

He would keep his promise. 

His affection would not be altered by lines of age on your face. Despite all his shortcomings, he was loyal to his word, and he had offered you a piece of his heart no matter how shrivelled and blackened it may be. 

And you would cherish that gift for as long as you drew breath. 

a/n: NEED HIM BAD <3

anyway to any crazy in love readers I'm currently working on the next chapter and am planning to have it up in the next week or so

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are appreciated as always <3

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It felt wrong to admit to, but you were almost glad that things were definitively over with him. To some extent, you’d just been searching for a reason to end things, aware that you were never really going to feel that passion for him. 

Not when your passion always seemed reserved for someone else. 

You wished you hadn’t had to deal with a load of vile name calling in the process, but you’d blocked his number and what was done, was done. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. He seemed like a mostly good guy,” Yuki said, dragging the varnish brush slowly over her own nails, half focused on the task and half on you. She was the type of girl who liked to make a lot of eye-contact when speaking, and subsequently orange paint was getting all over her skin.  

“Mmm. Want me to do your nails for you?” 

“Nah, you’ll smudge yours. I’ll manage.” She waved you off. “So you’re not speaking with him at all anymore?” 

“No way. We’re done, I really wasn’t sure how into him I was anyway.” 

“I get that. It didn’t look like the chemistry was really there.”

That made sense, considering that you spent the whole reunion speaking to Yuki and Shoko rather than paying Kashimo any attention. Oh, and there was also the fact that you couldn’t take your eyes off Sukuna half the time that you were at the damn gathering. 

Somehow, seeing Kashimo and Sukuna in the same place only made you more certain that you’d never really feel anything for the former. The way that Sukuna stirred your heart with a single look was unlike anything that anyone else had made you feel. Kashimo would certainly never manage it - even the nice version of him that you’d originally known. 

“Yeah, it is what it is.” You shrugged. “Plenty of fish in the sea, I’ll find someone else.” 

You were pretty certain that you wouldn’t have to look very hard to find someone else - in fact, there was one fish in particular that was simply begging to be reeled in, but you’d keep him on the hook for a little longer. No point in making things too easy for him. 

Lately, your reservations about Sukuna had been dwindling. Kashimo had been one of your main excuses, and now that was all out of the way. The other excuse had been Ryu’s ghost haunting you whenever you’d look at the pink-haired man, but with all the time you’d been spending with him lately, you found that the guilt bothered you less and less. 

It had been four years since Ryu’s death, and he’d cheated on you in life. Why should you have to punish yourself forever just because of an unfortunate coincidence? Sukuna had made a very good point that Ryu would’ve likely died whether you’d been faithful or not. 

So why were you denying yourself happiness? 

You’d planned to break up with Ryu back then anyway, had planned to choose Sukuna before all hell broke loose. Now that time had moved on and things were calmer, it felt foolish to let a dead man stand in the way of things. Being with Sukuna was your choice alone, and the way that he’d comforted you outside the reunion had eroded away the last few shreds of doubt that you’d been hanging onto.

Not that you could tell Yuki any of that, because she’d absolutely kill you. 

“Honestly though, I almost thought that Gojo was lying - figured Sukuna had paid him to make Kashimo look bad or something,” Yuki said, “y’know, because he’s a conniving little shit.”

To be honest, you’d initially had some of the same suspicions, but Gojo was far too specific for it all to be lies. Sukuna didn’t know Kashimo well enough to provide Gojo with information about gigs and such - it had to be legitimate. 

“Sukuna definitely had no idea - he seemed so shocked when he found me crying. Besides, Kashimo's reaction over text said it all.”

Yuki’s eyes narrowed, and you cursed yourself for that idle slip of the tongue. As far as she was concerned you’d had very little to do with Sukuna recently. You hadn’t even told her that the two of you worked together. 

“When he found you crying?” She echoed, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Was that at the reunion? Tell me that you walked away and didn’t bother telling him anything.” 

Shrugging, you stared down at your shiny nails. “We just chatted for a bit, it's not a big deal.” You must not have sold that line as well as you were hoping, based on the way that Yuki was staring at you with utter disbelief. 

“If it's not a big deal, what’re you blushing for?” 

“I’m not.” You lied, feeling suddenly defensive. You weren’t sure if it was better to deny any claims of association with Sukuna, or if you should just turn around and tell Yuki that you were a grown woman who could do what she liked. 

Neither option was all that appealing. 

“You are. If all you did was chat, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind telling me what you were chatting about.” Yuki’s voice was cold, tinged with disappointment. There had been only a few times in your life where you’d been the subject of her ire, and you always hated it. It made you feel smaller than being disciplined by your actual parents. 

Chewing on your lip, you wondered what would placate her most effectively for the time being, without it coming back to bite you in the ass one day. You certainly weren’t going to mention the kiss, nor were you going to share just how much talk of a potential future relationship there had been. 

However, it probably didn’t serve you to omit the fact that Sukuna was working for your dad, and that your friendship had been steadily growing over the last few weeks. If you were to keep that information quiet, it was likely that it would come out down the line and then Yuki would be really mad at you for lying. 

Better to face a little bit of her anger now rather than a lot of it later. 

“He was just comforting me,” you said finally. “He ran into me when I was leaving the bathroom all teary-eyed, and I was frazzled so I told him about what had been happening. He listened and gave some words of reassurance while I calmed down, that’s all.” 

Yuki didn’t look convinced. “Let me guess - did he wrap an arm around you and tell you about how you deserve so much better? Did he tell you about how there are plenty of guys out there willing to give you everything you deserve? Oh, oh, did he tell you that he’d never treat you the way that Kashimo did?”

“No,” you lied easily. 

So what if he said and did all of those things? You had faith that he was being honest about it, and it wasn’t like he had negative intentions for you. He’d been waiting patiently for a chance with you for over four years - that was more dedication than either Ryu or Kashimo had shown. 

He wasn’t the villain that Yuki believed him to be. 

But there was no convincing her of that fact, so it just felt easier to lie. 

“He’s been working for my dad,” you added. “We’ve had a few opportunities to talk since I got back into town. We haven’t discussed the past at all and he’s been nothing but pleasant - I don’t think there’s any need for you to hate on him like you are, he’s just a guy.” 

Yuki was silent for a while, avoiding eye contact. It had you feeling antsy, because she was clearly thinking about what to make of your statement. A deep sigh wracked her body, and she took her time screwing on the lid of her nail polish before looking at you once more. 

“If there’s nothing untoward going on, why are you only now telling me that you’ve been working with him?” 

A valid point, but you tried not to appear flustered by her response. The best course of action here was to make it look like she was blowing things out of proportion and acting ridiculous - which she kind of was. Sukuna’s only crime was sleeping with you while you were in a relationship, and it wasn’t like he coerced you into it - far from it. 

You’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted you. 

“Because I knew you’d freak out like you are right now. You act like he’s the damn antichrist.”

Yuki scoffed. “He manipulated you into cheating on Ryu.” 

“He didn’t, and I’m sick of pretending that he did. I’m capable of making my own bad decisions and that night was one of them. I shouldn’t have cheated, but it wasn’t Sukuna’s fault. I’m the one that was in a relationship, not him.” 

The roll of her eyes told you that Yuki didn’t accept that excuse for even a second. “He waited until you were most vulnerable to prey on you, and I’m pretty sure that you’re smart enough to know it.” 

“No, he-” you started to argue, only to catch yourself. There was no point in squabbling over this - Yuki had made up her mind about Sukuna long ago, and no argument would serve to change her mind. The only thing that would have an impact is seeing Sukuna’s positive treatment of you with her own eyes.

And that was something that she’d potentially have to come to terms with one day. 

“Look, let's just not talk about this, okay? I came over to hang out with you, let's not waste time talking about boys.” 

It was frustrating, because you could really do with talking about the Sukuna situation with someone impartial. You were attracted to him, you’d always known that, but it would be nice to have someone objectively tell you if giving things a go was a good idea. You’d get no objectivity from Yuki, and that made discussing it a waste of time. 

Perhaps you could talk it through with Shoko instead. She’d shown vitriol for Sukuna when in Yuki’s presence, but she wasn’t the type to get amped up about anything really. It was likely that she’d be able to give you a more honest opinion on how you should proceed. 

“You’re right.” There was something in her tone that told you that she didn’t really want to cut the conversation short, only willing to concede for the sake of avoiding any damage to your friendship. It was clear that she was eager to bring you over to her side, unsatisfied at the idea of you defending him or spending time with him in any capacity. 

It was fine for her to feel that way. She just needed to understand that it was your decision to make. Not hers. 

“Before we move on though - please tell me you’re not considering getting with him.” 

Yuki’s expression was pleading, the worried furrow of her brow painfully evident. For the last four years she’d desperately tried to talk down the concept of Sukuna whenever he’d come up in conversation, along with running interference to ensure that the two of you never ran into one another whenever you were in town. 

You imagined that she was seeing four years of hard work unravel before her eyes, and was desperate to cling on to some semblance of it. 

It was likely that you were going to have to apologise to her for your actions in the coming weeks, if you went along with the desires that were currently building within you. But you could cross that bridge once you came to it. 

For now, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

“Me getting with Sukuna?” You asked, waving your hand flippantly. “Oh no, definitely not!” 

—

“Double cheeseburger, that’s mine. Here’s your chicken burger.” Sukuna was rummaging around in a paper bag that he’d picked up from Doug’s, distributing lunch out between the two of you. “Oh, they ran out of the strawberry flavouring so I got you a chocolate milkshake instead, hope that’s okay.” 

“Thanks.” Your fingers brushed his as you took the plastic cup from him, sending a pleasant shiver through your hand. You took a sip before placing the milkshake down on the world’s best dad coaster at your side, focusing your attention back on the ancient computer while Sukuna got started on his meal.

Your father was currently facing an audit, and that meant that you were working overtime to get his records in order. Subsequently, you couldn’t head out for lunch like you usually would, which had led to Sukuna bringing lunch to you instead. He seemed perfectly content sitting across from you in that little trailer, quietly watching you work while he enjoyed his break from manual labour. 

“Can I help?” He asked, after a period of silence, gesturing to the computer.

“Nah. This thing just happens to be the slowest machine in the universe, so organising everything is taking ages. It doesn’t help that my dad doesn’t bother putting anything into folders - there’s documents everywhere.” 

“Mmm. I saw Satoru’s desktop the other day and it was chaos. Icons all over the screen and some random popups and shit.” Sukuna said. 

“This one isn’t that bad. But I am gonna tell my dad to buy a new one - if I’m going to work with the damn thing everyday, I need it to run faster than this.” 

A chime of a text sounded from your bag, and you glanced over at it but didn’t bother to check. It was most likely just Yuki messaging with a plan for the weekend - one of Choso’s siblings was getting married and she wanted you and Shoko to go dress shopping with her in the city. You were considering faking a cold, still on shaky ground with her after your conversation the other day. 

So instead of reading her text and lamenting about it further, you turned your attention to your food, unwrapping the chicken burger and taking a big bite. You had to admit, it was nice to have Sukuna bringing you lunch - you probably wouldn’t have eaten all day otherwise, too focussed on the task at hand. 

“Heard from Kashimo again?” Sukuna asked, nodding his head in the direction of your bag. 

You were almost surprised that he was asking - you’d figured that the second your ex was out of the picture, Sukuna would wipe the name from his mind. After all, you imagined that he saw Kashimo as nothing more than an obstacle that had now been thoroughly removed. 

“No, nothing. Wasn’t expecting to though.” You said with a shrug. 

“No? You didn’t think he’d come crawling back to beg?”

You scoffed in disbelief. “I told you what he said over text, right?” 

Sukuna hummed. “The abridged version, I guess.” 

Your retelling of the story to Sukuna had been a little fragmented, since you’d been so enraged. The evening after the reunion, he’d called you to check that you were okay after your tearful day, only to get a full rant about the texts that Kashimo had sent you after the party. You probably didn’t explain it well, but you were sure he got the gist. 

Either way, you hadn’t really talked about it since then. You had no interest in bringing it up, and you assumed that he saw it as something of a touchy subject. 

“You can read the texts if you want.” You rummaged in your bag, pulling out your pink flip phone, ignoring the message from Yuki and opening up the texts from Kashimo, before handing it over to Sukuna. 

“Cute.” He mused, inspecting the Hello Kitty charm hanging off the side of your cell before turning his attention to the messages. 

“I mean- I can’t believe that I ever thought he was a nice guy. It was all just some dumb act. I really need to thank Gojo for giving me a heads up, because who knows how long it would’ve taken me to see this side of him otherwise. Imagine if I’d moved in with the guy only to find out that he was acting like this behind my back.” 

Sukuna hummed, carefully reading through the messages, his brows furrowed in displeasure. “He called you a whore? When he was the one sleeping with other people?”

“Yeah.” You rolled your eyes. “Called me a lot of other shit too. Guess he didn’t like being rejected.”

“What a jerk. Want me to kill him for you?” 

You stared up at Sukuna, unimpressed by his amused expression.

“Don’t even joke about that.” 

“Sorry, poor taste.” His grin didn’t drop, but you let it go easily. 

You knew that he’d never really been broken up over Ryu’s death - he’d never actually liked the guy. Making morbid jokes didn’t register in his mind in the same way that they did in yours, and the thought of Ryu’s death probably only came up for him when you’d bring it up. 

Besides, it had been four years. When were you going to get less sensitive about it? 

“Seriously though, I could track this guy down and give him a beating - if that’s what you wanted?” Sukuna’s expression was painfully earnest, not unlike a dog waiting for their owner to give them a command. 

Shaking your head, you offered him a soft smile. “He’s really not worth all that. Besides, I don’t want you beating anyone up.”

He shrugged. “Your choice. I would do it though.” 

“Noted.” 

You definitely believed him. Even though you’d never been witness to it, you heard all the rumors about fights he’d been in when you were back in school. He’d even punched Ryu once, before the two of you had started dating - not that Ryu had ever been interested in discussing it, apparently humiliated by his loss. 

Before Sukuna could make further promises of violence towards anyone who caused you strife, the door creaked open and your dad walked in. He was holding a paper cup from the nearby coffee van, but seemed to stop in his tracks at the sight of Sukuna and the food laid out on the table between you. 

“I was coming in to bring you a coffee but it looks like someone beat me to it!” 

To be fair, while Sukuna had bought you lunch, he hadn’t brought you a coffee, and you could really do with the caffeine. “I’d still like it! Thanks dad.” You smiled at him as he walked over, gratefully taking the warm cup from him and putting it down beside your half-drunk milkshake. 

He straightened up, hesitating for a second as he glanced between you and Sukuna. It was obvious that he’d expected to find you alone in the trailer, certainly not having lunch with his most rough-around-the-edges employee. You tried your best to ignore his unease, going back to eating your meal and pretending that your dad wasn’t fidgeting in your periphery. 

You couldn’t decide if his awkwardness was due to a dislike of Sukuna, or if he simply had something that he wanted to tell you in private.

“Are you done with that foundation, kid?” He asked, as Sukuna finished the final bite of his burger.

“‘Course.” 

“Good, good.” 

From what you could tell, Sukuna was an excellent worker, easily one of the most productive employees that your father had. It was likely a result of age - at twenty-two Sukuna was in the prime of his life where physical strength was concerned. The majority of your dad’s men were over twice that age. 

The silence stretched out for a few seconds as your father continued to awkwardly linger. “Everything okay?” You asked, eager for him to spit out whatever was sitting on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yeah, I’d really just dropped by to keep you company, but I guess I didn’t need to…” 

Your brow furrowed at the slight distaste in his tone. You weren’t sure if this was one of those typical overprotective father quirks - you’d never really seen him around guys that you liked before this interaction. He’d never met Ryu, because you’d kept the relationship a secret, and when Kashimo came to visit, he’d seemed largely unbothered. 

Probably because he’d seen how unbothered you were about the man. 

But there was something about his demeanour which felt threatened, or perhaps irritated, by the fact that someone else was here taking up your time. Perhaps it was about that person specifically being Sukuna - you didn’t really know anything about the nature of their working relationship. 

“I should probably get back to work anyway!” Sukuna chirped with a smile, breaking through the awkwardness. 

He tossed the burger packaging into the trash can at the side of the desk and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. He looked a little out of place in the tiny trailer - far too big for the space when drawn up to his full height. 

“We’re still on for tomorrow, right?” Sukuna asked as he drifted in the direction of the door. “For Misery at the drive-in?”

“Yeah, of course.” The way that he smiled back at you made your heart flutter desperately. He’d invited you over the phone a few days ago, and although he hadn’t said it outright, there was no doubt in your mind that he viewed it as a date. 

You’d almost turned him down, almost reminded him of your chat at the reunion in which you’d made it clear that any conversation about the two of you would take place exclusively on your terms. 

But the issue with that was the fact that you did want to go with him. 

You were sick of delaying, sick of having dream after dream of Sukuna’s hands on you, sick of your heart practically jumping out of your chest whenever he’d come by to grab you for lunch. You liked him, you’d always liked him. Knowing that was true, what was the point in wasting more time on silly games? 

The best way to find out if things would work was to try. If you kissed him properly and all you could think of was Ryu’s dead body, then you knew that it would never be possible. But if you kissed him and the horrible, soul-crushing guilt remained absent? Then you could have everything that your soul had been yearning for.

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at eight.” 

You gave him a nod as he stepped out of the trailer, the door creaking and slamming shut behind him. Turning your attention to your dad, you caught the way that his brow was furrowed ever so slightly, a mix of curiosity and disappointment present on his weathered face. 

“I didn’t realise you guys were so close,” he said, waving his hand in the direction of the door. You supposed that made sense - the last time he’d seen the two of you interact was when Sukuna had been in here with his injured hand, and you’d shown an overall reluctance to even talk to the man. 

You shrugged, before moving to clean up the table a little bit, anything to avoid eye contact. “We’re friends.” 

“You know him well?” 

“Well enough,” you answered. “He’s the only person here even remotely near my age, so he’s kinda the only choice for someone to talk to.” That was a partial lie - because while there really weren’t any other employees in your age bracket, you would still be hanging out with Sukuna even if that wasn't the case. 

“You aren’t dating him, are you?” 

Balking at the straightforwardness of that question, you were quick to shake your head. “No, we’re just friends. God, dad, I only just broke up with Kashimo, what do you think I’m like?” 

He put his hands up defensively, clearly a little embarrassed by your response. “Sorry, sorry. I just had to ask. It's just- with him bringing you lunch, and going to drive-ins, it kinda seemed that way.”

You’d long since learned how to play the guilt game with your parents - you’d used it to hide your relationship with Ryu and get your way in other areas of life for years, so instead of accepting his apology, you pushed your advantage. You didn’t want him asking about Sukuna again anytime soon. 

“Well it isn’t. It's been so hard for me moving back to town, living with my parents again like some kind of failure, all on top of my boyfriend cheating on me. Sukuna is one of the few people who’s actually been a good friend to me. Besides, I’m going to the drive-in with him and several other friends, you don’t need to be so suspicious.” 

“I hear you-” 

“Plus, I’m a grown-up! You don’t get to come in here and dictate anything to me that isn’t work related. I can’t believe that you still don’t trust me to make good decisions, it makes me so upset.” You were sure that the look on your face was sufficiently frustrated, because this exact act had been working on your dad for at least fifteen years at this point

“Sorry, honey,” he said, looking dejected. “I was just being nosey. There’s nothing wrong with being his friend - he’s a good worker. But I was just hoping you weren’t dating a guy like him - you deserve better than spending your life in some shitty little apartment with a guy who can barely make ends meet.”

His tone was soft, disarming. It was clear that he was trying to make amends for upsetting you, inadvertently making you more annoyed in the process, because there was no reason to be so prejudiced against Sukuna for his financial situation or for anything else. He’d always been kind to you, and in your mind that mattered more than having a nice house and a fancy corporate job. 

“I think it's wrong that you speak about your employees like that,” you said. “He can’t make ends meet because you pay him minimum wage.” 

“Look, it's not just the money.”

Of course he glazed over that part. 

“I just don’t want any daughter of mine marrying some guy with face tattoos. It's unsavory - gives off the wrong sort of impression.” 

You could kind of understand the sentiment, but Ryu didn’t have face tattoos and he cheated on you. Kashimo certainly didn’t have face tattoos and he also cheated on you. You were pretty sure that outward appearance did little to dictate a person’s quality.

But your dad was old-fashioned, so that was unlikely to move him, and therefore not an argument worth making - especially not when you were in the process of trying to convince him that you weren’t interested in dating Sukuna. 

So you just held your tongue and rolled your eyes, deciding that you were done having this conversation. Just like with Yuki, if something happened with Sukuna, you could cross that bridge when you came to it, but you wouldn’t be having the argument now. 

“Well then,” you said softly, giving your father a pointed smile, “aren’t you lucky I’m not dating him?” 

—

Sukuna came to pick you up for your date at 8pm. 

You were already waiting outside for him, not eager for him to encounter either of your parents. Even if you were certain that your dad felt sufficiently awkward to not cause any further strife, you didn’t want to take the risk. 

Especially considering that you’d lied and said others were coming - when they clearly weren’t. 

Sukuna had openly looked you up and down as you hopped into his truck, doing little to conceal the desire glimmering in his crimson eyes. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dressed up specially for him, meticulously planning your outfit to ensure that he took notice of the way it hugged your body. 

“You look pretty,” he purred. “Making me feel underdressed.” 

He was dressed pretty casually, wearing a grey Bullet for my Valentine hoodie and loose fitting black jeans. He looked incredibly good all the same, just as he always seemed to, no matter what he was wearing. Part of you pondered what it would be like to wear that hoodie, fantasising over the idea of him putting it on you if you got cold later in the night. 

It probably smelt great - just like he always did. 

You shrugged. “I just wanted to dress up for once.” The line was innocent, but the way you fluttered your lashes at him was not. He offered you a grin, shaking his head just a little before starting the car, driving you over to the drive-in on the edge of town. 

It was a nice little spot, albeit slowly dying now that so many people had flat screen TVs to rely on and an extensive collection of DVDs all in the comfort of their homes. Either way, you had great memories of swinging by as a kid, McDonalds Happy Meal clutched in your hands as you watched whatever family-friendly movie they were putting on that weekend. 

For some reason it was always your dad that used to take you - your mother would never go. You assumed that she used those precious two hours a week to get some alone time while your dad was watching you, considering that she did the majority of the child related labour. 

As you’d grown older, you’d started going along to the drive-in with friends, watching a number of classic teen movies like Grease and The Breakfast Club. The second that Yuki had gotten a car you’d all piled into it to come to the run-down place, enjoying that taste of freedom that you’d never had before, laughing at the sight of poor teens who were still tethered to their parents. 

You hadn’t been there since Ryu’s death. After that situation you hadn’t felt like doing anything in town, living in a total state of isolation until you went off to university, completely overwhelmed with the idea of how to deal with anything. 

Since you’d come back to town, you felt like you’d almost been reborn. You no longer lived in fear of doing things and going places, and could look at everything with a comfortably nostalgic view rather than one riddled with guilt and anxiety. Perhaps all you’d needed was time. 

To an extent, you wondered if some amount of your calmer mental state was due to Sukuna’s presence. So much of your fear and guilt had been centered around him, and perhaps your avoidance of the man had built those feelings up into a storm disproportionate to reality. 

Spending time with him could almost be seen as exposure therapy - a way of facing that fear and guilt you’d been running from and letting it all go. It was a practice in accepting your faults and choosing your own happiness. 

“So what’s this movie? Misery?” You asked as you parked up. There weren’t a massive amount of cars in the lot, maybe only a dozen others. It was likely that the drive-in wouldn’t keep running for many more years with the lack of patronage. 

“Yeah, based on the Stephen King book, y’know?” Sukuna’s voice was a little muffled as he reached behind him between your two seats, rummaging about in his bag for something. The action brought him in closer proximity to you, and your heart picked up slightly at the light scent of his cologne. “Here, brought you some M&Ms.”

You scrambled to catch the bag of candy as he tossed it over to you. “Oh. I haven’t read any Stephen King.” Somehow that felt like a crime to confess to considering how popular he was with so many people when you were in high school. You’d been assigned to read Salem’s Lot for one of your classes, but had ultimately just asked Shoko to give you a summary. 

Back then you’d been too invested in your fresh relationship with Ryu to focus on anything else, and that included reading. 

“Well, Misery is pretty good. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He leant back in his chair and popped an M&M in his mouth. “We should watch The Shining sometime, that one’s really good.” 

“No way. Too scary.” 

“Aw, if you get scared I can comfort you.” 

“Or we could just not watch the scary movie in the first place.” Horror movies had never really been your thing. You’d only agreed to watch Misery because Sukuna had explained that it was supposed to be more of a psychological thriller, but you knew that wasn’t the case with The Shining.

Sukuna hummed, gazing down at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Don’t you think it's fun to be a little scared sometimes though? Gets the blood pumping.” 

While that statement might ring true for others, it certainly didn’t resonate with you. 

“I think I’ve had enough real fear to not want to be frightened by movies. I feel like you’re forgetting I saw my boyfriend with his guts all ripped out. I don’t need to watch shit like Scream when I literally had to live it.”

To some extent, the situation with Ryu had been more harrowing than the events in Scream, since they never caught the guy who did it to him. The police had concluded that it was some nasty drug related matter, since Ryu had cocaine on him, but you weren’t so sure. Some nights you wondered if the culprit was still living in your sleepy little town, going about their day like nothing ever happened. 

“Mmm. Point taken. What kind of movies do you like then?” He asked, keen to move the conversation away from Ryu. 

“Romance, I guess?” You weren’t really sure that you had a specific preference outside of disliking horror, but most of what you’d watched lately was romance. “I really like 10 things I hate about you.” 

“Haven’t seen it. You’ll have to show me sometime.” 

You giggled at the thought of Sukuna sitting down and watching a teen romance movie, but nodded anyway - mainly because you liked the idea of being huddled up next to him while watching Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles fall in love on screen. You wanted him to kiss you like the two of them kissed in that paintball field. 

“Sure, sometime.” 

The two of you fell quiet as the movie started, your attention dedicated to the screen in front of you. Sukuna was right to describe it as not really a horror, but he had neglected to point out how chilling a story it was. You felt all the fear of that poor man kept captive against his will by someone so insanely obsessed with him, your heart lurching anytime he failed to obey her ridiculous desires. 

During the scene where his legs were smashed by his captor, you found yourself covering your eyes, keen not to see the mess that she’d make of the poor man. Sukuna took that opportunity to wrap an arm around you, pulling you to his side and holding you there. His hand traced softly over the skin of your upper arm, comforting you. You stayed like that for the rest of the movie, enjoying the feeling of his warm body pressed against yours, his breath soft against the top of your head. 

You let out a breath of relief as the movie finally drew to a close, happy that the poor protagonist managed to escape the clutches of his captor, but deeply saddened by the way that the experience had messed with him mentally. In a way, you could relate - you understood what it felt like to have a traumatic experience colour your future. 

Sukuna didn’t let you go immediately, keeping you close as the credits rolled. Likewise, you made no effort to move away, even as cars started to vacate the lot. 

“What did you think?” He asked. 

“That lady was insane.” 

“I feel like she was just misguided,” Sukuna said with a laugh. “Sure, she needs therapy and stuff, but what she was doing was almost romantic.” 

You sat up then, staring at him in utter disbelief. The woman had held a celebrity author hostage in her house claiming to be his biggest fan, claiming to love him, only to smash up his legs and ensure that he could never be truly free of her. You weren’t quite sure where he was reading romance from that. 

“Wanna elaborate?” You asked, keen to see if Sukuna was just genuinely media illiterate. 

“Obviously not in a good way. I mean more that her drive felt almost romantic - to love someone so much to be driven to such insanity, it must’ve felt intense. I feel almost bad for her y’know? All she really wants is his attention but she can’t have it. It’s sad.” 

You scrunched up your nose. “I guess. But she isn’t entitled to him. She’s a psycho.” 

“Not arguing against that, baby.” 

The pet name didn’t go unnoticed, and you felt a blush crawling up your neck. Sukuna still hadn’t released you, drawing slow circles against your shoulder. It had your heart fluttering desperately, your stomach filled with butterflies. You tried not to focus on it too much, eager not to show just how much of an effect he was having on you. 

Mainly because you liked this game with him, to some extent. Even though you did want him, you were also enjoying having the upper hand, knowing that he was doing everything he could in his power to gain your affection. 

“So, if I hadn’t agreed to this date, would you have gone all Annie Wilkes on me? Kidnapped me and kept me strapped to a bed in your apartment?” You asked jokingly, staring up at him. 

“Nah,” he said with a laugh, “but if I did, I definitely would’ve treated you way better than she treated him. I wouldn’t be breaking your legs, I’d be treating you like a princess. I feel like that’s where she went wrong - she should’ve been softer on him and then he would’ve wanted to stay. It isn’t that hard.” 

You giggled. “I feel like you’re just describing a relationship - captivity aside, obviously. But I don’t think what you're saying would’ve worked for Annie, because he would’ve left and never come back. Which, you know, is good for him but not for her.” 

“I think she was just looking too short term.” Sukuna said with a sigh, giving you a soft squeeze. “She should’ve let him go and given him some time, kept in contact and stuff and maybe things would’ve blossomed. She was too hell bent on that instant gratification and it fucked everything up for her.” 

You hummed, and for a moment the two of you sat in silence, reflecting on the movie. You were certain that Sukuna wasn’t the type of guy to give into obsession like the woman in the movie. Likewise, you were certain that he wasn’t the type of guy who would ever hurt you or restrict your freedoms. 

But his final line felt like it related more directly to what had transpired between the two of you over the last few years. 

“Is that how you feel about us? About what happened four years ago?” 

He tilted his head in question, peering down at you. You couldn’t help the way that your stomach flipped under the scrutiny of those crimson irises, still a little nervous under his gaze, just like you’d always been. 

“What do you mean?” 

“That we were too fixated on instant gratification and it fucked everything up?” 

He barked out a laugh. “I wasn’t insinuating anything by it, but now that you mention it, yeah, I guess that applies to us.” Softly, he reached out to you, his fingers brushing along the length of your jaw. You bit down on your lip slightly, drawing in a breath. “Fortunately, nothing between us is as dire as broken legs or captivity, so I think we can recover.” 

You blinked as he leant in closer to you, lips slightly parted. His breath fanned over your face as he searched your eyes, clearly trying to get a read on you. Your mind was going haywire, your body freezing in place beneath his touch. 

“At least, if that’s what you want? I don’t wanna jump the gun and spend four more years on your avoidance list.” 

You snorted, eyelashes fluttering as you peered back at him. Your voice came out as a whisper, and barely audibly you said, “It is what I want.” 

He wasted no time after that admission, pulling you in close and crashing his lips into yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. His lips felt surprisingly soft, almost tender against yours. There was none of the roughness that you’d felt the first time the two of you had slept together, instead it was pure, unbridled passion. 

His tongue traced your lips carefully, requesting entry that you gave him easily. Your fingers found their way into the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. The centre console between the two of you was an annoyance, creating a space that neither of you wanted. Sukuna was quick to resolve the issue, breaking the kiss for just a moment to drag you into his lap. 

His lips were back on yours immediately, like he was making up for lost time, desperate for you like a man in the desert searching for water. It wasn’t like you were much better, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pressed against you, dizzy with how hard he was kissing you. You hadn’t been kissed like that in a long time. 

Not since Sukuna had you in that bathroom all those years ago. 

It was a while before you parted for air, your forehead pressed against his, both of you breathing heavily. It was nice and warm in his lap, with one of his hands curled around your waist, the other caressing the skin of your thigh where your dress had ridden up a little. You could feel the evidence of his arousal through his jeans. 

Although, that evidence felt unnecessary, as the longing in his expression said it all. He was looking at you like you’d single-handedly placed all the stars in the night sky - like you were something truly worthy of his unwavering reverence. 

He was looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe how lucky he was. 

And it made your heart race, because despite your two relationships, despite all your forays into one night stands during your first year at university, no one had ever looked at you like Sukuna was now, with an affection so overwhelming that you weren’t quite sure what to make of it.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, planting a few kisses on your face, his fingers rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I have some idea,” you said with a giggle, reflecting on the many nights that you’d spent fantasising about him over the past four years. 

“No,” he said sternly. “You really don’t.” The way that he looked at you told you that there was more desperation from his side than there was from yours, and you decided that you might as well take his word for it. Your mother had always said that it was ideal to find a man who was even more into you than you were into him. 

Your breath hitched as he slid his hand higher up your thigh, a pulse of desire going straight to your core at the idea of stripping off right here in his car. You could fuck in the front seat, let him fill you up as you sat so nicely on his lap. 

However, your last sexual experience with Sukuna had been in some impromptu awkward location, and you’d promised yourself that if you were ever going to do it again, you’d do things properly - in a place where you could take your time, free from any prying eyes. The front seat of his car certainly didn’t fit the bill - especially not with a few other cars still dotted about the lot. 

It was almost as if Sukuna read your mind. 

“So, do you want me to drop you home, or…” 

The statement hung heavy in the air and he grinned at you, intentionally trailing off and letting you fill in the gaps. He wanted you back at his apartment, wanted you to keep doing this with him and more. There was a reasonable part of you that thought you should turn him down - this was a first date, just a test, you should go on a few more before making any rash decisions. Not to mention, you’d barely broken up with Kashimo two weeks ago.

And yet, you found yourself completely unmoved by any logical argument that you presented to yourself. You wanted to go to Sukuna’s place, wanted him to touch you even more than he currently was.

It wasn’t like this was some first date with a guy you barely knew - you’d known him for seven or eight years now, knew him well enough to be sure that this was what you wanted. So why should you waste any time? 

You went on this date with him because you were ready to admit that you wanted him. Why bother with hesitation now? Besides, it wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t had sex before - now that you weren’t in a relationship, there was absolutely nothing stopping you from doing it again. 

Sometimes it’s best to throw caution to the wind. 

“Let’s go back to your place.” 

—

Sukuna lived on the east side of town in a relatively run-down area. It was the type of place that your parents had always warned you against visiting throughout your teenage years, mainly because it was known to be a hotbed for drug-related activity, and they didn’t want you caught up in such affairs. 

You felt safe enough with Sukuna at your side. He’d lived in the area his whole life, and was more than intimidating enough to scare off anyone who might have unsavory intent. You wished that your dad paid him better so that he could move to a nicer place somewhere else though - it wasn’t a good neighbourhood to be in. 

He pulled up outside his building, shutting off his truck and turning his attention to you. There was a desperately giddy look in his eyes, one that had you feeling more than a little flattered because you couldn’t quite comprehend the fact that he was so excited to be doing this.

Wasting no time, he led you inside, his hand tangled with yours, pulling you along up the stairs and into his home. It was a surprisingly neat little space, one that Sukuna had clearly taken good care of despite its sub-optimal location. You’d half feared that he’d have one of those average male living-space type apartments, with no furniture except a camping chair, a TV and a floor mattress. 

On the contrary, it was decorated nicely, with hints of his personality shining through in the furniture and other carefully selected decor. He released your hand for a moment to turn on some lamps, illuminating the room. A little side-tracked by your new environment, Sukuna hovered semi-impatiently as you thoroughly assessed the place. 

You felt like Sukuna was someone that you knew relatively well, but that didn’t decrease your interest in snooping - there was a lot to be learned about someone based on the way that they had their living space set up. The main thing that drew your attention was how many bookcases he had lining the walls, filled to the brim with a mix of books and DVDs. 

The fact that he was an avid reader didn’t really come as a surprise to you, since he always seemed knowledgeable whenever literature came up, but you were surprised by how many beautiful versions of books that he had, with so many of them clearly being collector’s editions. They must’ve been a priority to him, considering his fairly limited cashflow. 

Scanning the titles, it seemed like most of the books were horrors or thrillers, with a few sci-fi novels mixed in. That fit in with your general assessment of Sukuna’s likes - you couldn’t really imagine him reading some flowery romance or epic fantasy, he’d always seemed much more interested in the gritty stuff. 

“Nice collection.” 

“Thanks,” he responded, lip quirking upwards ever so slightly. If this were any other day or time, you were certain that he’d take his time talking you through the books that he owned, telling you all about them, no doubt recommending you some, just like he had when you’d been discussing Stephen King earlier that evening. 

Right now though, there was obviously something more pressing on his mind.

A slightly devious scheme that popped into your head was to play with him for a little while before giving him what he wanted - you figured that you could drag out the conversation about books or some other feature of his decor, really test his patience to the limit to see how long it would take him to snap. You doubted he wanted to wait long now that he was right on the precipice. 

But he was so impatient that he didn’t even give you a chance to put your plan into action, because one moment you were considering the best question to ask about Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and the next he was grabbing you and smashing his lips into yours once more. You gasped against him and he took that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, picking up right where you’d left off in the car. 

Refusing to break the kiss, he walked you over to the couch, pulling you onto his lap as he sat down. The two of you made out for a little while, his hands roaming over your body, running tenderly along the skin of your thigh, beginning to play with the edge of the fabric, pushing it up your legs ever so slightly. 

It was then that you pulled away, a sly grin on your lips, still eager to tease him in some capacity. “Woah, straight to it with no conversation first?” You asked, with a cutesy tilt of your head. 

His face was a picture of disbelief and frustration, biting down on his lip softly as he stared up at you. The need in his crimson eyes was palpable, but he showed you restraint all the same. 

“What exactly would you like to talk about, baby?” He asked, in a clipped tone. 

He was painfully hard beneath you, and his fingers were digging into your thighs. You would’ve liked to have kept your act going a little longer, delay his gratification for at least ten minutes or so to really test his patience, but the desperation on his face was so cute that you couldn’t help but giggle at his question.

Besides, your own desire was bubbling in your gut, and you weren’t sure how much idle conversation you could hold without it turning into torture for you rather than him. 

“I’m just fucking with you,” you whispered with an airy laugh, leaning in to kiss him once more. He gave in for a second before pulling back, a devious glint in his eye. 

“Yeah? Think it’s funny to make me wait longer? Have your fun baby, I’ll put you in your place in due time.” You squealed with delight as he manhandled you down onto the couch, pinning you beneath his weight. His body felt warm on top of yours, skin tingling in his grip. It was the way you’d felt all those years ago, the first time he’d touched you. 

How could you have allowed your guilt to part you from this feeling for so long? 

Soft whines escaped your lips as he kissed down your neck, leaving a hot, wet trail of bites that he sucked so lovingly into your skin. You knew that he had a thing for leaving a mark - he’d done it all those years ago too, sucking a purple hickey onto your shoulder, claiming you as his own despite the fact that you’d belonged to another man. 

This time, there was no reason for you to stop him. There was no Ryu, no Kashimo, nothing to stand in the way of you letting Sukuna have exactly what he wanted. There was nothing standing in the way of you getting what you wanted. Because you did want it, you had for years. 

All of those nights picturing Sukuna on top of you like this weren’t some sort of mistake, they betrayed your deepest desires. Had Sukuna spent the last four years experiencing the same thing? Spending long nights imagining you beneath him, squirming in his grip? 

Perhaps he’d been imagining it for even longer than that. 

Either way, it felt foolish that you’d likely spent hundreds of nights in separate locations imagining being with the other. You and your foolish guilt towards a man who had shown you little to no respect. You should’ve never let Ryu come between you and Sukuna, should’ve never run after that terrifying night. 

If you’d simply had the courage to face Sukuna back then, maybe you wouldn’t have lost four years to your self-imposed suffering. 

A shiver ran through you at the feeling of Sukuna sliding the straps of your dress carefully down your arms. It wasn’t like he’d never seen you naked before, but you’d both been drunk that night in the bathroom. It felt different to be all exposed before him like this, completely sober, your nipples perky from all the attention he’d been giving you. 

Swallowing nervously, you watched him drag his gaze over your torso, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Aren’t you just an angel? Even prettier than I remembered.” The praise had your cheeks warm, your mind searching for the last time a compliment had been given to you so freely when having sex. 

It was probably the last time Sukuna had been with you. Ryu had never done anything to make you feel special, and Kashimo had largely kept quiet the handful of times you had been together. With Sukuna, the words seemed to come easily, like praising you was the most natural thing in the world for him. 

Throwing your head back, your fingers sunk into Sukuna’s biceps as he made his way down to your breasts, lips brushing against the sensitive skin until his mouth reached one of your nipples. His tongue was warm as it flicked against that hardened bud, teasing you for a few moments before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. 

The feeling went straight to your core, and you writhed beneath him in pleasure. One of his hands moved to your other breast, his thumb toying with the nipple, leaving you overwhelmed with the dual sensation. “Fuck, Sukuna-” 

“Feel good?” He asked, pulling back with a pop. He looked beautiful, looking up at you in the way that he was. You couldn’t understand why someone as handsome as him had been so deadset on your affection - four years was a long time to wait for anyone, and yet here he was, gazing up at you as if you were worth everything. 

“Really good.” 

He huffed, shimmying your dress further down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in its wake. “All your resistance, for what? Could've been making you feel good for years, dumbass.” 

You made an attempt to bite back, to point out that it hadn’t been quite that simple, because how were you meant to understand what the right path was after seeing your boyfriend murdered in cold blood? 

How could you have known that the man you’d been unfaithful with was the right person to seek comfort in after everything? 

It wasn’t like there was a handbook for that. 

Sukuna didn’t give you enough time to formulate that into words before his hands reached the top of your panties, sliding his fingers beneath them with little hesitation. You jolted ever so slightly at the sensation of his warmth against your sensitive skin, flushing at the way he grinned as his fingers discovered the slick between your thighs. 

“And here I thought I was the desperate one.” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled. It was clear that he paid you no mind, suddenly attentive, as if he’d just had an epiphany. 

“Do you always wear these?” He asked, his hand pulling back and moving to trail along the pink, lacy panties you were wearing. They were the nicest pair that you had, and they weren’t particularly comfortable. Generally, you wouldn’t wear that at all, apart from for something like this. 

Sukuna cottoned on too quickly for your liking, practically beaming down at you. 

“Don’t tell me, you’d planned for us to do this tonight? Here I was, thinking that you were playing things all innocent, that you were genuine when you told me that this was just a test-run of a date.” His fingers toyed with the fabric a little more, watching your reaction carefully. “I guess you were just teasing me, huh? You always knew you were gonna come back here.” 

You shrugged as nonchalantly as you could. “I wasn’t sure, I just figured it was better to be safe than sorry on the outfit front.” 

“Mmm, sure.” It was clear that he didn’t believe you for even a moment. “These are so cute, I almost don’t wanna take them off you.” 

His fingers had moved slowly to your clit, rubbing softly over the top of the fabric. You wished that he'd go back to what he was doing before, eager to remove the thin layer of fabric separating you. 

“Gonna have to take them off though,” he continued, “I want full access when you sit on my face.” Your heart stuttered for a second at his words, not quite sure that you’d heard him correctly. 

“What?” You asked, dumbly.

“I want you to sit on my face,” he repeated, easily, as if it were obvious. You blinked at him, a little taken aback by the request. That wasn’t something you’d done before - Ryu hadn’t been all that interested in giving oral sex if he could avoid it, and everything you’d done with Kashimo had sat firmly on the tame side of things. 

“That’s- I- I think I’d be too embarrassed,” you choked out, cheeks flushing red. It was one thing to have sex with him - you were even comfortable with him giving you oral, but to do it in a manner like that felt insanely vulnerable, especially to do with a man that you hadn’t slept with in four years. 

He didn’t seem deterred by your statement, his face still lit up with that giddy, elated expression which had barely faltered since you’d kissed in his truck. “You know, if you’re gonna be with me, we’re gonna do far more embarrassing things together than just that.” 

Heart fluttering at the implication, you let your mind wander to what those things might be. Sukuna had always been the type of person who gave off the impression that he knew what he was doing when it came to sex - his penchant for one night stands had been the reason you’d never believed that he’d really wanted you before you’d gotten together with Ryu.

You were pretty certain that he had an expansive list of favoured kinks, and the idea of him trying them out with you made you shiver. It wasn’t like you’d ever ventured far out of vanilla with past partners, but Sukuna seemed like he’d be unsatisfied with basic sex alone.

“Come on, baby. Wanna see you up close.” The lust in his tone had your thighs quivering, and despite the embarrassment of it all, you offered him a little nod. You wanted him to make you feel good, wanted to feel that tongue piercing of his pressed up against you. 

You watched him lay back on the sofa, discarding his shirt and gesturing you over to him. His body was still as well-sculpted as you remembered, with sharp black lines cascading down his clearly-defined abs. He was the type of guy that you’d expect to see in a magazine, not working on some dingy construction site. 

Trailing your eyes down his form, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the pink happy trail rising from his jeans, following it down to the prominent bulge practically begging to be freed from his trousers. Tentatively, your hand reached for it, squeezing gently through the cloth, pulling a restrained moan from Sukuna’s mouth. 

His reaction gave you an unprecedented surge of confidence. 

“If I’m going to sit on your face, perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone.” Your smile was sultry as you addressed him, wetting your lips slowly and giving him yet another squeeze to ensure that he caught your meaning. You’d expected him to jump at the idea, thrilled at the thought of you taking him in your mouth while he ate you out. 

Instead, his hand darted out and gripped your wrist, pulling your hand away from his still covered cock. You tilted your head in question, eyes wide with surprise at just how tightly he was gripping you. “No. I won’t last. If I’m gonna cum I want to do it inside you.” 

Most guys would feel embarrassed to admit to such a thing, but evidently not Sukuna. He didn’t care that you were aware of just how intense his desire was for you, on the contrary, he wanted you to know. You had to admit that it was flattering, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to control himself if you started touching him. 

You weren’t used to being in a situation where a guy wanted to focus on your pleasure first, before even thinking about chasing his own. Although, going by the enthusiasm in Sukuna’s eyes as you slowly got yourself into position above him, it seemed like he was deriving great pleasure simply from serving you. 

His hands ran slowly along your thighs, caressing your skin and tugging you down to sit upon his face. You felt a little nervous, shivering at the sensation of his hot breath against your exposed pussy. You weren’t sure what to do with yourself, having never been in this position before, uncertain on what to do with your hands as Sukuna licked a broad stripe up your slick folds. 

“Oh!” You let out a little squeak, legs trembling. Your hands flew to his hair, finding solace in the pink strands, no doubt tugging on his scalp as he set to work lavishing you with attention. You’d been eaten out before, Sukuna had done it to you all those years ago, kneeling between your thighs while you leant up against the sink. But this felt different - more intimate and special than it had before. 

The mix of embarrassment at being so vulnerable and the intensity of Sukuna’s optimal position had you fidgeting desperately, your body jolting ever so slightly at every pass of his wide tongue, leaving no part of you untouched. One of his hands released its grip on your thigh to move to your clit, rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves in tandem with his tongue’s careful ministrations. 

The way that he flicked his tongue so precisely told you that he knew exactly what he was doing, understood how to touch you to elicit the strongest reaction. More slick was dripping from you, lapped up enthusiastically by his mouth, and you found yourself whining desperately at the sensation of that round piercing skimming your folds, contrasting against the soft texture of his tongue. 

“So sweet.” He murmured against your pussy, the vibration sending a pleasurable jolt right up your spine. You could feel the pressure building in your gut as he continued to lap at you, giving you no respite, feasting like a man starved. How long had he been waiting for this? Did he look at pictures of you when he was alone at night and imagine you sitting on him like this? 

If it was possible, the thought turned you on more than you already were. 

You could feel yourself growing close, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach growing to near unbearable levels, your vision growing a little blurry as you chanced a look down at him. The sight took your breath away - his eyes were heavy-lidded, watching you unfold on top of him while his tongue continued its onslaught, a heavenly expression on his face. 

You found yourself choking out his name, a little overcome by the evidence of his desire. 

It had you coming unexpectedly, letting out a soft little moan as you released on his face, causing a surge of embarrassment and pleasure to meld together in one overwhelming ball of sensation. Ultimately, the pleasure won out, because unconsciously you found yourself grinding down against his face, moving your hips with a desperate vigor to chase more of what he was giving you. 

If it was suffocating to him, he did nothing to try and stop you. Instead, he seemed to revel in your active participation, the movement of his tongue never faltering, letting you ride out your orgasm to completion. You couldn’t quite believe how eager he was, memories of Ryu’s general disinterest with eating you out flashing through your mind. Sukuna didn’t have to be asked to provide you with pleasure - he wanted to provide it. 

When he finally released you, bruises left in his wake from his grip on your thighs, your head was spinning. A sheen of sweat had summoned itself on your forehead, your pussy tingling from the overstimulation. You couldn’t find it in yourself to move on your own, your legs acting like they were made of jelly. 

It didn’t matter, because Sukuna was more than happy to lift you, depositing you down onto his couch for a second. He shot you an impish grin as he stood up, undoing his belt and shedding his jeans. “Still with me, baby?” He asked, taking note of your dazed expression. 

You were pretty sure you nodded, but you were too preoccupied to give him a proper answer, all of your attention focused on his hands, which were slowly dragging his boxers down his muscular thighs. 

The first time you’d done this, you hadn’t really gotten a good look at him - between the alcohol and the fact that he had you positioned facing the mirror, you’d only had the chance to feel his size rather than witness it. Now that you were staring at him, you found yourself swallowing nervously at the sight, wondering just how you’d taken that before. 

“Aw, don’t look so worried, baby,” he purred. His hand was stroking the shaft idly, red eyes heavy-lidded as he fixed them on you. “I’ll let you have it nice and slow. Nothing but the best for my princess.” 

No words came to your mind, you found yourself staring at him dumbly, lips parted as he settled down on the couch beside you, his thighs spread. He was watching you with a smile, patting his leg invitingly, encouraging you over. 

“Come here.” 

On shaky legs, you shuffled yourself over, letting Sukuna’s hands grip your hips and help lift you back into his lap. A soft whine fell from your lips at the feeling of his cock pressing up against you. He let out a low laugh at the way that you instinctively ground yourself against him, your body needy even after everything he’d already given you. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” He hummed, watching your movements carefully. “You really want it, huh?” Gripping his cock, he responded to your movements in kind, rubbing the tip up against your entrance, smearing the pre-cum through your folds. 

“A-ah, condom.” You just about managed to regain clarity of mind to remember that little detail. Even though you were on birth control pills, you were intelligent enough to know that it wasn’t wise to fuck anyone without one if they hadn’t been tested for STDs and the like. 

Even if it was Sukuna. 

The flicker of irritation in his eyes was gone as soon as it appeared, replaced by a more pleasant look of total innocence. “I don’t have one,” he said easily. “I can just get you the morning after pill if you’re worried.” 

You shook your head. “I take contraception, it's more about- umm…”

“I haven’t fucked anoyone since I was with you.” 

You blinked at him a few times, struggling to comprehend that statement and instantly wondering if he was lying to you. The claim seemed unlikely, considering how much he got around before he’d slept with you for the first time, but his expression was unexpectedly earnest. 

And he’d been nothing but honest with you up to now. 

“In four years?”

“You’re the only one I want.” He was chewing on his lip, waiting to see how you’d react - if you’d believe him. The two of you hadn’t used a condom last time, you’d been so frazzled by everything going on that it had completely slipped your mind - if he really hadn’t been with anyone since then, it didn’t matter if you used one now. 

“You’re not just saying that so you can still fuck me tonight, are you?” 

“Come on, baby. Can’t you see how devoted I am to you?” He started pressing soft kisses along your neck, peppering the bruises he’d already left on your skin. “After I’d had you for the first time, there was no way I was ever gonna touch another woman again.” 

You weren’t sure what to make of that, once again caught off guard by how strong his affection for you was. You hadn’t assumed that he’d put his sex life on hold in the hopes that you’d one day come back, but now all of his neediness made sense. Not being touched for four years must’ve been tough for a guy like him. 

Who were you to keep him waiting any longer? 

Sliding your hand down between the two of you, your fingers found his cock, feeling it twitch in your grip. He relaxed a little, clearly relieved that you were proceeding, eagerly watching you line up the tip with your pussy. His hands came to settle on your hips once more, gently guiding you as you eased yourself down onto his cock. 

Containing a whimper, your nails dug hard into his shoulders. He felt bigger than you remembered, your body no longer assisted by the effects of alcohol to numb the pain like the first time you’d done this. “That’s it, good girl,” he murmured, bringing one hand up to your hair in a gentle caress. 

Leaning forward, he kissed you some more, his lips moving along your neck, up to your chin and finally capturing your lips, distracting you from the intensity of the stretch as he bottomed out within you. 

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, losing yourself in the feeling of his lips on yours, the soft feeling of his chest pressed tight against your breasts. The pain slowly began to give way to pleasure, turning into a delightful feeling of closeness with the man you’d been more desperate for than you liked to admit. 

You were the one to move your hips first, lifting yourself experimentally, finding joy in the way that his cock dragged against your walls, before dropping yourself down once more with a soft whine against his lips. He took that as a sign of your comfort, repositioning his hands on your hips 

Considering the position, you’d assumed that you’d be doing most of the work. You’d thought that Sukuna had chosen it intentionally, eager to make you please him after all the pleasure he’d gifted you with his tongue. But instead of sitting back and watching you ride him, he made it clear that he was still very much in control of the situation. 

His grip on you was firm, taking care of moving you up and down his shaft like you weighed nothing to him. All you had to do was hang onto his shoulders. Pulling away from his lips, overwhelmed by the new, intense feeling of him thrusting into you, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, whining each time he brought his hips up to meet yours. 

The feeling was heavenly, better than anything you’d experienced before. It felt like you were moulded just for this, made for him to fit inside you so snugly, like you were always meant to be together. 

“Fuck, been waiting so long for this-” The way that he groaned was insanely sexy, filling you with a sense of pride. Based on gossip that you’d heard before doing anything with Sukuna, girls he’d been with had claimed that he was quiet during sex, that he opted for positions where he wouldn’t be looking at their faces. 

And yet here he was, all vocal for you, gazing at you with round eyes. 

It was definitely an ego boost. 

“You’re so hot, I wanna have you like this all the time, shit- I’m not gonna last long.” 

A mewl of agreement escaped you. You were already so sensitive from him eating you out, your pussy squeezing needily around him with each stroke of his thick cock. You were pretty sure that you’d never cum this fast in your life, not without external stimulation at least. And yet, Sukuna’s cock felt good enough to get you there all on its own.

“Please, Sukuna-” you whined against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into his skin at one particularly deep thrust, keeping yourself from wailing out his name. You couldn’t think of anything but how good he felt buried inside you, desperate to do this over and over again. 

But Sukuna was reaching his limit, and your little love bite was what tipped him over the edge. 

Your name left his lips in a soft groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he filled you up. The last time you’d done this, you’d asked him to pull out, but no such thought had crossed your mind this time around. The sensation of warmth flooding inside you all while he kept up his rhythm was too much for you. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he rasped against your ear. One of his hands shifted down from your hip and pressed softly against your clit, the feather light touch sending you right to your peak along with him. Your vision turned white as your orgasm washed over you, your thighs tensing against his, milking his cock for all it was worth. 

Riding out your high, you slowly came to still on top of him, gaping for breath against his shoulder. He recovered faster than you did - one of his hands was already steadily tracing your back, the other stroking your hair comfortingly. He was softening ever so slightly inside of you, but you weren’t eager to pull away just yet. 

The intimacy of being connected like you were just felt too pleasant. 

Sukuna seemed to feel the same, making no effort to rush any further movement, enjoying the sound of the two of you breathing softly, clinging tightly to the other. You’d never felt so safe in someone's arms after making love, had never wanted to stay tangled up like this. Sukuna was special - he always had been, you’d just been too scared to admit it. 

You’d wanted him to hold you four years ago, and unfortunate events had dictated otherwise. This time, you’d let nothing tear you apart. 

“Doing okay?” He asked, brushing hair out of your face and tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

“Mmm, just a little tired.” You felt downright exhausted, and even though you knew that you should probably go home to prevent any suspicion coming from your father’s direction, the last thing you wanted was to be parted from Sukuna’s comforting grip. 

“Let's get you to bed then.” 

He didn’t wait for your answer before standing up, keeping you wrapped around him as he walked over to what you assumed was the bedroom, pushing the door open and depositing you gently on the bed. It was only then that he pulled out of your warmth, dragging a soft whimper from you at the cold emptiness he left behind. 

You remembered zoning out for a while after that, while Sukuna went through the process of tenderly cleaning you up with a warm cloth before bundling you up beneath the duvet on his comfortable bed. He went to the bathroom for a while to get himself cleaned up before joining you, huddling his body up close against yours. 

“Are you gonna avoid me for another four years now?” He asked quietly, a teasing lilt to his voice. Even if it was a joke, you were almost certain that there was some level of fear hiding within him that had prompted him to ask the question. You didn’t know how he’d react if he woke up in the morning to find your side of the bed cold and empty. 

“No, not after that.” 

“Oh, so you would’ve done it if the sex was bad?” 

“Maybe.” You let out a giggle, gazing up at him with amusement. 

He rolled his eyes but there was no malice behind it, a lazy grin lighting up his tattooed face. “I guess I’ll have to make sure I always please you then.” 

“I guess so!” You chirped, as if Sukuna was capable of anything less than that. It was apparent that you were not seeing him at the top of his game right now with how needy he was for release, and you could only imagine the type of things he would do once you were having sex all the time. 

He huffed humorously against your ear, tightening his grip on you. He had one arm resting beneath your head while the other snaked firmly around your waist, pulling your face into his chest. It was hard to think about anything but him with the way that his scent was overpowering your nose. 

You could get used to being pressed up against him like that. 

Things just felt right with you there, snuggled up in his arms. His body felt so warm against yours, curled around you in a deeply protective grip, like he was ready to fend off the world to keep you there at his side. You were relatively certain that he’d have to do no such thing, but you liked the sentiment regardless. 

You’d been wrong in your judgement, in your decision to wallow in guilt after Ryu’s death. You hadn’t felt this happy in years, since long before you were ever even with Ryu. Sukuna was the person you were meant to be with, this was exactly where you’d been destined to be. 

Everything that had happened, it had all been for a reason. All the horrible things that you’d gone through had been the world’s way of helping you along to this moment, leading you into the arms of the person you were meant to be with. 

And as you drifted off in the arms of the man who had loved you for years, you felt like you’d found a place of peace, a place where you’d be safe from the horrors that you’d encountered throughout your life. 

You’d drifted off too quickly, too soundly, to see the glint of victory in Sukuna’s eyes, to feel the way that his nails dug so possessively into your delicate skin. For now, he had what he’d always wanted - his object of affection tangled up so intimately with him. 

All he needed to do was ensure that he kept you there. 

And he wouldn’t be taking any chances. 

a/n: isn't he so fine!? I'm sure he'll be a totally normal boyfriend!! there's no way that he'd immediately start crossing boundries and acting insanely possessive haha!!

(we'll be going back to sukuna's pov for the next chapter where he will immediately start crossing boundries and acting possessive 😭)

hope you enjoyed the chapter and thank you for the support! comments and reblogs are appreciated as always! <3

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A more toughened person might’ve been able to accept the situation for what it was, pick themselves up and dust themselves off before moving on with what needed to be done. It was what you’d done in the past when confronted with obstacles like Kenjaku. It had never been easy, but you’d pushed your emotions to the side and been the hero that the city needed you to be. 

Doing so where it came to Sukuna felt like a step too far. He wasn’t like Kenjaku - a man who had inspired nothing but your anger. Instead he’d teased out a side of you that you’d believed had been shut off for good, seen you in a state of vulnerability that no one else had. How were you meant to disconnect yourself from the way he made you feel? 

Because even though you hated him, even though he’d genuinely humiliated you to the highest degree, there was no stopping the deep desire in your heart that told you how much you loved him. 

How pathetic. 

It was that searing love that kept you on the floor of his apartment for a whole hour before you finally found it in you to break your bindings and stand up, after a long internal debate over whether you really wanted to bother facing him at all. 

But what kind of magical girl would you be if you didn’t?

He was raining destruction down on the city that you’d sworn to protect, there was no option but to put him down. It was the right thing for the people suffering in the streets below, and perhaps more importantly, it was the right thing for you. He’d reduced you down to nothing, and you couldn’t let him get away with that. 

Even if your own emotions couldn’t seem to get a handle on that idea in their current tumultuous state. 

In an effort to put off the task at hand for as long as possible, once you were free of your bindings you took the opportunity to snoop around his apartment. Perhaps you could uncover some hidden weakness or a detailed step-by-step plan to tell you what he was going to do next.

You uncovered nothing of the sort, but you weren’t really sure what to think of what you did find.

There was a picture of you, of Shining Star, pinned on his bedroom wall - it was laden with holes and still had a few darts stuck in it. It struck you as very strange to have a picture of someone you hated hanging up in your bedroom, especially considering that its positioning meant the image was the last thing he would see before sleeping each night. 

But it was pointless to read into that too much. 

A simple bit of digging around in his room had you discovering the sex tape he was referring to, on a literal tape for some reason, with your name scrawled along the side in his oddly pretty writing. What was more horrifying was the fact that it was wrapped up in a pair of your used panties, a revelation that had you reeling. 

There wasn’t a chance in hell that he was doing this all for the point of exposing you publicly - your panties would be useless for such a task. If he didn’t care about you, it was unclear why he would bother keeping such an item. Perhaps as a display of sexual domination over you, playing out his own little power fantasy to demean you privately?  

It certainly made you feel small. 

Even if he hadn’t done everything else, even if he’d been nothing but a model boyfriend with this being the single exception, finding out that he stole your underwear and recorded secret videos of you would’ve been a major red flag. 

How could you be so stupid as to let him do any of this to you? 

It was total humiliation, a true destruction of your very being. All you’d wanted was to be loved, to have something genuinely good happen to you for once in your miserable life. Were you too naive to have believed that good thing could’ve been Sukuna? 

It was if life itself was laughing at you for having the audacity to dream. You’d already had your miracle, who were to ask for anything more? 

Deciding that there was no point in torturing yourself further by lingering in Sukuna’s apartment, you took a couple of minutes to steel yourself before heading down in the elevator and out into the hellscape that your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, had turned Tokyo into. 

The scene was far more catastrophic in scope than anything you’d seen when it was Kenjaku at the wheel. The storm was raging - rain and wind pelting you the moment you stepped out of the apartment building. You could hear a distant rumbling, which you hoped was thunder rather than some gargantuan monster hidden just out of sight. 

Slipping on your amulet, there was a sense of safety and security that flowed through you as you took on your alternate form. Usually it felt uncomfortable to be her, like wearing another person’s skin. Today you wanted to be anyone but yourself, so the transformation felt like wrapping a comfort blanket around yourself, protecting the broken form of the real you. 

You couldn’t do this, but Shining Star could. She was always there to pick up the slack wherever you faltered. 

The first task on your mind was figuring out where Sukuna was. As long as he was still standing, he could likely conjure up monsters until the end of time. That meant that it would be pointless to start eliminating those before dealing with him - you had to stem the bleeding ahead of anything else. 

Finding him didn’t seem like it would pose an issue. He hadn’t exactly hidden himself from you by any means, practically broadcasting his malicious aura from halfway across the city. All you had to do was follow the overwhelming pressure that grew with each step, restricting the air in your lungs, causing your head to throb. 

Clearly, he wanted you to find him. His intent had always been a final duel, a showdown between the two of you in your most powerful forms. Perhaps he had some sense of honor that stayed his hand back in his apartment, unwilling to kill you in your human body. Or maybe this was just an extra layer where it came to humiliating you - demonstrating your weakness to the world by defeating you even as a magical girl. 

His intent didn’t really matter now. There was no point in speculating. 

While locating him didn’t pose much of an issue for you, actually reaching him was another story entirely. The long trek to his chosen vantage point in Shinjuku was something that you could only describe as deeply harrowing. You’d seen monsters before, that was nothing new - you’d even witnessed death before, but never on the scale that you encountered that day. 

It looked like some scene out of an apocalypse movie, with bodies and blood strewn across the street, frightened wails coming from every direction, too many for you to ever attend to each one. Not that you didn’t do your utmost best - making short work of every monster placed in your path, saving any civilian that you happened to stumble across. 

There was no thanks in the eyes of those that you saved, instead you were met with glints of hurt and betrayal, a silent question asking why you hadn’t stopped this before it had even begun, a hatred that you were sure you were deserving of. 

Everyone who had died in this attack had died because of you, because of your stupidity, your pathetic desire to be loved.

You weren’t sure what you’d do after you’d taken down Sukuna, but you knew that the people of this city, of the world, would never trust Shining Star ever again. Perhaps it was just better that you disappear entirely, take the chance to part from this earth at the same time as your enemy. 

Dying together would be something of a poetic end, ridding the planet of two people who had cursed them. 

It wasn’t a decision that you’d made fully, even by the time you finally caught up with Sukuna. 

He sat alone atop a building, waiting patiently for your arrival, fixing you with that intimidating red gaze as you appeared on the roof before him. Your chest was heaving from the effort that you’d exerted crossing the city to reach him, your hands and arms covered in blood - be it from monsters or civilians, you weren’t really sure. 

You wondered if his chosen location was selected for a reason. Perhaps a place of significance to him? Or, more likely, somewhere annoyingly far from his apartment, forcing you to face down the twelve labours of Hercules before reaching him. He probably wanted you tired, unwilling to take any chances where it came to you defeating him. 

Unfortunately, you wouldn’t go down so easily. 

“You took longer than I thought you would. Trouble undoing the rope?” He asked. 

His stance was annoyingly relaxed, sitting cross-legged on the hard concrete. Two hands were resting in his lap, one was leaning against his chin, whilst the other was twirling a knife dexterously between fingers. 

Taking note of the weapon, you observed the liquidy sheen that seemed to cover the sharp blade. It was likely a poison, perhaps the same one that he’d used on you earlier in the day. As a magical girl, you were largely impervious to damage whilst in this form, but you weren’t safe from everything. 

Kenjaku had been the one to discover that - trying all kinds of things before he finally developed the formula that weakened Yuki enough for him to finally strike a killing blow. He obviously hadn’t expected it to work at the time, considering that he only had one vial of the poison for use. If he'd had more you probably would’ve died back then. 

Sukuna must’ve discovered the same poison all these years later. Perhaps he’d built upon Kenjaku’s work and built something even more potent - you wouldn’t be surprised since the two had obviously known each other. 

Either way, the message was clear enough - you couldn’t allow your skin to get even lightly scraped by that knife, or it could be game over. 

“I was busy trying to save people.” You lied, not especially eager for him to know that a great deal of your time had been spent sobbing on his floor. 

He stood up slowly, rising to his full height. You tried desperately to calm your beating heart, which was hammering against your ribcage at the realisation of just how large he was. You liked to think that the reaction came from a place of terror rather than a fleeting, invasive thought about how genuinely beautiful he was. 

Sauntering over to the edge of the building, he seemed to survey the scene below for a few seconds before turning back to you skeptically. “That’s funny - it sure doesn’t look like you saved anyone.” 

The humor in his tone had you seeing red, and for that reason you didn’t bother dignifying his jab with any sort of a response. Flinging yourself forward, your sword was at his throat in an instant, leaving a shallow cut on his tanned skin which might’ve provided a killing blow if not for the way that one of his hands grabbed your arm, flinging you back hard across the floor.

“So eager.” 

He moved towards you slowly, picking at his nails like he had all the time in the world. Slowly, you pushed yourself up to sitting, watching him carefully for any hints of a surprise attack. He stopped mere meters before you, crouching down so the two of you were at eye level. 

It was only then that his grin faltered. 

“You’ve been crying,” he remarked, flatly. 

Lips parting in disbelief, you found yourself frozen at his comment. You’d assumed that there’d be some sort of follow up, some mocking quip about how pathetic you were to have fallen for something so false. And yet, that seemed to be his entire statement, a simple observation that confused you more than you’d like to admit to. 

“Obviously?” You murmured, dumbfounded. 

You were sure that your eyes were desperately red and puffy, it wasn’t like you’d made any real effort to obscure the fact - did he think that you’d be all sunshine and rainbows after what he’d just pulled? He’d made it clear that his goal was to destroy you, and yet he seemed confused that he’d succeeded. 

“Why?” He asked. “Because you feel humiliated?”

You blinked a couple of times, finding it hard to believe that he was genuinely so dense as to not understand the origin of your distress. 

“Because I’m heartbroken.” You said finally, spelling it out for him, hating the way your voice cracked under the pressure. For a few seconds you assumed that this was some new method of torture that he’d come up with, forcing you to admit your feelings to him even after all the suffering he’d caused. 

That thought was instantly dispelled by his reaction.

What had been completely obvious to you apparently wasn’t to him, based on the sour look of sheer disbelief that morphed across his handsome face at your words. “Heart-broken?” He repeated your words, his tone almost bitter. “Why?” 

“Don’t you think we’ve been over this already?” You mumbled. 

In your mind, the conversation you’d held in his apartment made your feelings clear enough - you’d been prepared to give up your life if it would ease his pain, you’d told him that you loved him. Did he think your feelings had changed in the hours that had elapsed since then? 

Did he think you’d be less heart-broken just because your relationship had been proven as a farce? 

Even if it was false to him, everything had been real to you. The humiliation that he’d intended for you - exposing you and stealing your necklace, that had hurt. But that pain was nothing compared to the sheer agony of your heart shattering into pieces, your desire for him never faltering despite it all. 

“I told you nothing was real,” he sneered. “It's pointless for your heart to be broken. All you should be feeling is rage and humiliation and then despair at the realisation that someone like me will take your life away. Stop being stupid.” 

“It's pointless…” You echoed, unable to hold back a disbelieving smile. “I guess that fixes how I feel then, huh?” 

“You don’t feel anything for me. I’m your enemy. Stop trying to manipulate me.” 

The look on his face was one of pure scorn. A laugh bubbled up in your chest before you could stop it, giggling raucously at the insinuation that your feelings were an act of manipulation, like you weren’t falling apart right now. You had no crocodile tears to cry, and if you could force yourself to hate Sukuna and cast aside all feelings for him - you would.

That would make your job much easier. 

“And to think that you believe I’m the stupid one here,” you murmured. You’d already made it clear back in his apartment that if he felt anything for you, it was not born from manipulation. Not that he’d ever be mature enough to understand such a thing. “But what’s the point in talking now? You’ve made your intentions clear, let's put an end to this.” 

There was a glimmer of hesitance in Sukuna’s gaze, recoiling ever so slightly at the flippant manner at which you’d dismissed him. You wondered if he’d expected more conversation, a similar situation to what had gone down in his apartment, in which the two of you danced around genuine violence but never really came to engage in it. 

You weren’t going to waste your time on something like that any longer. Being near him was agony for you, and you couldn’t allow any hope to fester in your mind. If you allowed yourself the belief that something could be recovered from the ashes of your relationship you’d know that you were truly lost. 

This had to end. 

He wanted a showdown with Shining Star, and that was what he was going to get. There’d be no more conversation between the two of you. By the time your fight had been resolved, one of you would be dead. 

To say that the fight between the two of you was messy would be something of an understatement. 

Sukuna’s skill far surpassed that of anyone else that you’d fought. Monsters tended to be predictable, and the only strong villain you’d battled with was Kenjaku. In comparison to the King of Curses, Kenjaku seemed amateur. 

He was painfully fast, slashing through the air with ease in an attempt to slice you to ribbons. You were lucky that your magical girl form kept you impervious to damage, or you were sure that he would’ve killed you moments after starting your combat. 

The two of you traded endless blows, finding many instances in which your blade scraped across the surface of Sukuna’s skin only to strike just short of a lethal target. Often, one of you would manage to pin down the other only for the victim to wriggle free at the last second, avoiding what would be certain death. 

At some point, in one of those moments where he had you beneath him, Sukuna managed to lightly nick you with his blade before you broke free of his grip. It wasn’t a high enough dose to bring you to your knees completely, but you could feel your physical resistance faltering, your strength waning ever so slightly. 

It was around that time that you were certain you were going to lose, your resolve faltering as he knocked you back to the ground, slashing a deep cut across your forehead before striking you hard across the face. He was saying something about how much he despised you, but you couldn’t quite make it out over the ringing in your ears. 

As your vision blurred, you stared up at him and wondered how this could be the same man that had held you so tenderly once. 

Why did you still yearn for him to hold you tenderly again? 

You wanted to give in, wanted to give up. It would be so easy to just close your eyes and let him beat you to death. You were just so tired, and you didn’t want to fight him. You’d never have to face any pain again if you just let it happen, right now. 

But you couldn’t. 

At least, Shining Star couldn’t.

You had a duty to fulfill. Those poor civilians below were counting on you to win, regardless of how you felt about your adversary. You had to keep going, no matter what. 

So, against all odds you summoned the strength to shove him off you, to keep on fighting him until the very bitter end regardless of your aching heart. 

The contract was very clear. 

It was your duty to kill him. 

And when the fog of your battle finally cleared, you were the one who emerged victorious. Your blade embedded through two of his hands, pinning them down above his head. You were sitting atop his chest, knees digging into his other two arms, keeping them immobilised at his side. Four red eyes were fixed on you, irises swirling with a concoction of fear and hatred. 

If this were Kenjaku, if this were anyone but Sukuna, you would’ve swiftly removed your blade from its current position and used it to remove his head. It would’ve been a clean, easy victory - one that allowed you to close the book on this saga and move on. You could defeat the rest of the monsters and clean up the city, just like your contract dictated. 

Unfortunately, you were too far gone in your own rage and sorrow to act in such a measured manner. 

You struck him over and over again. Your fists rained down onto his face, bloodying it with each extra hit. You could barely see the impact that you were having through the blood marring your own face, dripping into your eyes and obscuring your vision. It was hard to tell how hard you were hitting, your body feeling heavy with each strike. 

You only realised that you were crying when your hands started to meet nothing but open air, your strength failing you as your fists came down to rest gently on the wide expanse of his chest. Open sobs left you, body shaking vigorously while Sukuna simply lay there beneath you, the proof of his survival evident in the way that his chest was rising and falling under your hands. 

There was a desire within you to stay in that moment forever, to just give up right there, sob and sob until Sukuna regained his strength and claimed victory for himself. 

And yet, that little voice in your head, the voice of your contract reminded you that you could do no such thing. This wasn’t a job that you could half finish - you had to make sure that the task was completed in its entirety. If you wanted to cry, you could do it later.

Rubbing blood and tears from your eyes, you observed Sukuna below you, your heart clenching involuntarily at the gruesome sight laid out before you. 

His face was a total mess - his nose broken and bleeding, his lip busted open, eyes swollen and bruised. Even so, he was still conscious, red eyes staring evenly back at you, waiting to see what you’d do. You could see a hint of horror in his gaze, but you knew he was resigned to his fate all the same. 

“Go on then, do it.” His voice was raspy. “You know you want to.” 

It would prove his point in a way, you supposed. He’d said that you’d put him down just like you put down Kenjaku. Despite the circumstances being entirely different, he likely still saw that as a moral win - proof that he was always right about Shining Star being rotten to the core. 

Slowly, you withdrew your sword from his pinned hands, watching the way his limbs sagged the moment the weapon was freed from them. Your sword was the ultimate foil to all things evil, poisonous to any monster that it might strike. He wouldn’t be capable of moving his arms for a while. You said nothing as you raised the blade up, hands shaking from the effort of lining it up with his heart. 

Hesitation stayed your hand, heart clenching at the sight of his damaged face, at the mixture of fear and resignation flickering in his four crimson eyes. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t sway you. He was evil incarnate, he’d ruined your whole life, he deserved to die. Your contract dictated that he needed to die. 

But every time you tried to move your blade, you found yourself overcome by memories of the last couple of months. His hand brushing against yours, dinners on the sofa in your apartment, midnight outings to the convenience store, his body on top of yours as you moved together between your sheets.

The feeling of him pulling you closer at night even when he thought you were asleep.

Bile built up in your throat, some external force egging you on to strike even against your own will. None of those memories mattered more than your duty. They couldn’t matter. He’d said it himself, he didn’t care. You had to do this, had to kill him, there was no other choice, you had to-

Driving the blade downwards, Sukuna braced himself for the impact, eyelashes fluttering as he shut his crimson eyes. 

The impact never came. 

Your blade struck the floor beside his head hard, a cry of pure frustration falling from your lips as you proceeded to fling the sword as far from you as it would go. It clattered across the concrete obnoxiously before the world fell silent. Sukuna’s eyes opened once more, narrowing in confusion at the sight of you fumbling with your amulet, pulling it off and returning to your human form. 

“I can’t,” you said simply. “I just…can’t.” 

You could hardly look at him, knowing that only pain would await you. So instead you clambered to your feet, turning away from him in an effort to conceal the fresh tears rolling down your cheeks at the thought of all you were about to lose. 

“Fuck,” you hissed. 

What you were doing right now was a betrayal, the complete antithesis of what the contract required from you. The wording was explicit in your duty: when faced with a supernatural monster who poses a threat to society, you must put them down. And yet, here you were, walking away from a man who fit the description perfectly. 

All because your weak little heart couldn’t face the idea of destroying someone who had held you so tenderly. 

He’d killed people, and if you didn’t destroy him more people would die. And yet, for the first time in your life, you couldn’t find it in you to let that realisation rally you. You’d spent years protecting and saving, an endless life of trying desperately to be what this nation needed, with all of the pressure on your shoulders alone. 

You just couldn’t do it any more. 

The mess that Sukuna had caused was repulsive to you, but there was no will left in your broken body to get stuck in and clean it up. 

Why did the responsibility always have to fall to you? 

It was a feeling that had been creeping up on you for some time, with Sukuna’s betrayal acting as the final nail in the coffin. You simply couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t live your life like this any more. 

You couldn’t kill him. 

Even if that decision would ultimately kill you. 

“Please, just go and live a better life.” Your voice trembled as you spoke. “You’ll never see me again so just- lay your monsters to rest and forget your hatred. Don’t throw away your existence to bitterness.” 

Taking a deep breath, you took one last glance at him. He was staring back at you like a deer caught in headlights, his red eyes wide with confusion and something akin to regret. Your chest seized, fighting the urge to walk over to him and tend to his wounds. All it would do was prolong the pain. 

There was no going back, no pretending that what had transpired wasn’t reality. 

Even if you didn’t have the courage to kill him, you could never see him again. This was the end one way or another. 

And with a deep breath you turned your back to him and left. 

—

Sukuna’s red eyes were trained on the ceiling above him, light streaming in through the large windows of his bedroom. He hadn’t been to work in months, claiming to Gojo that he’d been badly injured in the apocalypse that had plagued the city nearly half a year ago. 

It wasn’t technically a lie, you had severely injured him. Gojo certainly didn’t need to know the details of all that though. 

Since the incident, Sukuna had largely become a shut-in, rarely leaving his apartment for any reason outside of Uraume forcing him on regular mental health walks. He’d spend almost all day in bed, staring listlessly up at the ceiling, wishing that things had gone down differently. 

You were right, after all. 

He’d been stupid, he’d been so focussed on the hatred that had plagued him his whole life that he couldn’t see that the peace he’d been seeking had been right in front of him this whole time. In the short months that you’d spent together, you’d given him everything he could’ve possibly wanted, the acceptance that he’d always desired. 

And he threw it all away thanks to his own pride - his own curse.  

He felt more hollow now than he ever had, a gaping cavern in the place where his heart should’ve been. It was a gap that you’d been filling for longer than he’d realised, and now that you were gone, he wasn’t sure how to cope. 

He wished he could’ve even kept you as an enemy, but you didn’t even allow him that. You were simply…gone. 

It was humiliating how much time he spent lamenting over you, scrolling through pictures in his phone of the two of you looking happy together, watching the video he’d recorded of the two of you having sex, even though he knew it was gross to do so. He didn’t care, he’d do anything to get a hit of you. 

You’d been gentle with him until the very end, and that was what stung him the most. After all the pain and hurt he’d intentionally inflicted on you, you’d still loved him, still pitied him. When given the chance to kill him you’d shown him mercy, chosen his life over the whole city, decided that his existence was worth it. A mercy that he knew wouldn’t have shown you if your roles were reversed. 

You’d looked at him in his rawest form and accepted him. 

And he threw it all away. 

Now there was no way for him to even know if you were still alive. 

He knew for sure that you weren’t in Tokyo. The media had been reporting non-stop on the mystery surrounding what had happened to Shining Star, with the nation practically on a manhunt for the real you in those first few months following your disappearance. The search had only started to die down recently, with the assumption being that you had died in the villain attack in your valiant attempt to save the city. 

Technically, Sukuna had been the one to save the city, or at least, he was the one to revert it back to its prior state, but no one would ever know that. He was more than happy for the world to believe that it was all thanks to you. He supposed it was, in part. His loss to you, coupled with your parting words, had moved him in a manner he was almost loathed to admit to. 

You’d seen straight through him, had understood him in a way that no one really had before. All he’d wanted was acceptance, to be truly seen, and you’d given him that tenfold. 

It was laughable really, the extent to which he’d ruined both his life and yours, all for nothing. He’d lived with shame his whole life, but the guilt of losing you weighed on his shoulders heavier than any sin he’d ever committed. 

“I think I’ve found her.” Uraume’s voice was gentle, floating through the closed door of his bedroom.

His servant had learned the hard way that Sukuna didn’t want anyone in his direct space right now, almost cutting Uraume’s head off the last time they nonchalantly entered his room. It was humiliating for someone to walk in on him crying while he stared at a photo of you, after all. 

“Are you sure this time?” He called back, not eager to get his hopes up. 

This wasn’t the first time his servant had thought they’d found you. It was very disappointing the first time, a month after your disappearance, when he’d excitedly shown up to a small island in Okinawa in hopes of finding you, only to discover that the person Uraume had located was someone else entirely. 

Uraume hesitated for a second before speaking, as if doing a double check of the image they were looking at.

“Almost certain.”

Mere hours later, Sukuna found himself on the way up to Hokkaido, taking the plane to Sapporo before renting a car and driving off into the snowy wilderness. He’d shaved and cut his hair, making an effort to look like he hadn’t spent the last few months lounging around in his underwear sinking into a desperately deep depression. 

The photo that Uraume had showed him was unmistakably you. 

Regardless of the disguise that you had on - the big wooly hat and red scarf to conceal the lower half of your face, he could still tell it was you. Your eyes were so distinctive to him, he’d spent so long gazing into them, wishing that you’d look at him once more. 

The picture had been taken from CCTV footage in a small village nestled among mountains in the northern part of the island. It wasn’t hard for him and Uraume to narrow down your location from there. Uraume had always been particularly good at this sort of work - it was how they discovered your secret identity in the first place. This time was no different. 

By the time Sukuna arrived at the address that Uraume had given him, it was late at night. Since your lodge was located in the forest, far from any other houses, he decided to ditch his car about a mile down the road, eager to avoid you becoming notified of his imminent arrival. Trekking through the light snow, an early sign of the turning season, he considered what he wanted to say to you. 

He wasn’t even sure why he was doing this, what it was that he stood to gain. All he knew was that he needed to see you, needed to ease his bleeding heart. 

His confusion around what he actually wanted meant that your reunion didn’t get off to the best of starts. Primarily, because instead of ringing the doorbell like a normal person, Sukuna broke in through your window in the middle of the night. 

The reason for that? He wasn’t really sure. He was afraid that any other attempt at engagement would have you fleeing from him immediately. It was from that line of thinking that his next blunder was born, because instead of just waking you up, he climbed on top of you and pinned you down beneath him to ensure that you couldn’t escape. 

“Still have the audacity to break into my house after all this time?”

Sukuna froze at the sound of your croaky voice, eyelashes fluttering as you stared up at him calmly. He couldn’t feel any real resistance in your body beneath him, there was no attempt to push him off of you like he would've expected. 

There was only a sad resignation in your eyes while you awaited your fate, whatever he should choose it to be. 

“What do you want this time?” You asked quietly, pushing on following his silence. “If you’ve come here to play with me some more, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. I barely have the strength to walk anymore, let alone fight you.” 

With his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, he studied your face. You looked painfully gaunt, with your skin stretched thin over your cheekbones, your eyes sunken. Beneath his body, you felt impossibly small. You’d always been smaller than him, even in the human form he was currently donning, but you’d never been this tiny. 

Now you just felt frail. 

“What- what’s wrong with you?” 

The question probably came across ruder than he intended, too caught off guard to formulate his thoughts properly. He reached out and turned on the lamp at your bedside, allowing him to get a better look at you. His heart wrenched at how dull your gaze was, at the way you’d shrunken down to a fraction of yourself. 

“Cancer.” You answered simply, meeting his gaze. “So if you’re here to kill me, it's really been a waste of your time.” 

Sukuna felt like he’d been struck across the face.

“Cancer.” He said flatly. “That’s not fair, your miracle-” 

“My contract is gone, Sukuna. It has been since the day I left you on that roof. No more miracles for me.” There was a slight tremble to your lips, which you seemed to quickly get under control. It was evident that you were more affected by his presence, by this whole situation, than you were really willing to let on. 

“Your contract?” He echoed, slow, sticky horror rising in his throat. He didn’t know the intricacies of how you’d become Shining Star, only aware that it had something to do with the disappearance of your cancer as a teenager. 

It was becoming clear to him now. 

“You wanted Shining Star dead, and I gave you that. My contract was very clear. I have to put down any evil I’m aware of. When I walked away from you, made that final decision to abandon any intention of killing you, I broke the terms. I don’t get to keep the miracle.”

Your contract was nullified all because of the mercy that you demonstrated to him. The very contract that had guaranteed a miracle, a life for you, had unravelled and left you back where you were at sixteen. 

He could feel the unspoken words hanging in the air between the two of you, the insinuation that your current condition was his fault. Even if he hadn’t put you down with his own two hands, all of the blame for your death would lie on him. 

In a way, his plan had worked out exactly as he wanted it to. 

What a tragedy that was. 

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, red eyes widening at the way that you laughed underneath him, your whole body shaking. The laughter turned into coughs and all he could do was sit by and watch until you were ready to offer him a response. 

“You’re not sorry,” you said, finally. “It didn’t mean anything to you, remember? I thought I was manipulating you the whole time.” 

Making it abundantly clear that you hadn’t gotten over anything, you threw his words back at him. There was a sick part of him that almost liked it, because it meant that he still occupied your thoughts. You hadn’t gotten over him and moved on, a fear that had festered in his mind more than he’d like to admit. 

He really was twisted. 

To do all that he did, spend all that time hating you, only to come crawling back here like some sort of love-struck teenager. What could he honestly expect from you other than hatred? 

It was what he deserved. 

“Why are you here?” You continued. “I told you to go and live a better life. This isn’t-” 

“I can’t,” he interrupted. You seemed almost shocked at his admission, your gaze softening just a little. “All I’ve been able to think about since that day is you. You’re all I’ve thought about for a long time.” 

Your lips parted and closed, eyes growing misty as you took a deep breath, averting your gaze from him. “I fucking hate you.” Your voice was shaky. 

“I know, you should-” 

“No, you don’t know.” Your voice was outright trembling now. “I loved you, and even through all the shit I was prepared to give you a chance, and you turned around and set it meant nothing. Now here you are and it's just too late. Why couldn’t you have just been honest back then? Why couldn’t you just have admitted that you loved me too instead of going through with any of this?” 

“It wouldn't have made a difference. The whole thing was just pretend, you would’ve resented me anyway.” Sukuna wanted to reach out and wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks, stomach in turmoil as you poured your heart out to him. 

“I would’ve forgiven you!” You yelled, meeting his gaze once more, the distress clear in your lovely eyes. “I would’ve forgiven you.” You repeated quietly, as if asserting the point to yourself. 

There was a point that he could’ve turned back, but the two of you were light years past it. 

How cruel. 

“I did- I do love you.” He whispered, his gaze refusing to leave yours. Even with the excruciating sorrow that lined your face, he wouldn’t look away. “The months that we spent together were the happiest I’ve been. I’m sorry I couldn’t see it back then.” 

He sat back slightly, aware that pinning you down was a pointless and ill thought out decision. That didn’t mean he was willing to get up fully though, too desperate for some sort of contact with you after all this time. You still made no effort to push him away, but you did shift your hand up to wipe at your eyes. 

There was silence for a long time before you finally spoke. 

“You should really leave,” your voice was soft. 

He tried to ignore the dagger to his heart at your lack of response to his admission of love, wishing that you would’ve at least said that you still loved him too, given him something to cling onto, a hope that something was still there between you. 

Although, what did it matter? You’d be dead soon either way. No matter what, he wouldn’t get to keep you.

“Do you have someone looking after you?” He asked. 

“Sukuna-” 

“Do you?” 

“No.” 

“Then let me stay, let me make amends.” His hope started to falter at the way that you seemed to visibly deflate at his offer, as if you were trying to sink into the mattress beneath you. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said, finally. “I hate you, so much, but I’m not sure I can keep hating you if you stay and-” your voice cracked. “I really need to hate you. Because if I don’t then-” 

It was as if you cut yourself off, unable to properly articulate what you wanted to say. But he caught your meaning all the same - if he didn’t leave, you might forgive him, you might fall for him all over again. 

You might want to actually live the life that was ending whether you wanted it or not. 

Unfortunately for you, he’d always been a selfish man. If there was a part of you that still wanted him, he was going to reach for it and hold on as tight as he could. 

Leaning forward, his hand brushed the side of your jaw, thumb catching a stray tear as it rolled down your cheek. He waited for something, for you to push him away, to scream at him to leave you alone. You gave him no such reaction, leaning into his touch, your eyes blown wide. Softly, his lips met yours. 

There was no world in which he deserved this. He knew it, you probably knew it too. But the world had never been fair, and you were clinging to his hoodie like you were desperate for him to stay at your side, kissing him like you were making up for lost time. 

You really were stupid. 

He supposed that he was too, or he would’ve figured all this out before he screwed everything up. 

“Let me stay.” He mumbled as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. “You told me to live a better life. This is it.” 

You huffed softly, shifting ever so slightly beneath the blankets. “I can’t believe you ever called me manipulative.” For a moment, he’d wondered if that was a rejection, until he felt your hand move to his jaw, tracing the tattoos tenderly. “You’ll never make it up to me, but you’re free to try. I’m in no position to turn down help.” 

Relief flooded his chest, only for the feeling to fade immediately as he gazed at your hand, only now recognising the frailty of it. The only reason you were giving him the time of day was because you were sick, because at some point in the future you’d disappear regardless. 

There was nothing for you to lose. 

And nothing for Sukuna to win. Not in the long term anyway. Neither of you had emerged from this as victors. 

“How long do you have?” He asked, taking your hand tenderly.

You gave him a half hearted shrug and the best smile you could muster. 

“Days, weeks, months? Who’s to say?” 

—

Six meagre weeks elapsed before you met your end. 

Six weeks that Sukuna would cherish for as long as he lived. 

Things never returned to normalcy between you in that time - how could they? Too much had transpired for things to ever go back to the way they were before. Even ignoring Sukuna’s betrayal and the fact that he now spent all of his time in his actual form, your cancer alone meant that the dynamic could never be what it was when you’d first met. 

You were too tired to ever really do anything, spending most of your days confined to your bed - reading or watching TV. Sukuna didn’t seem to mind, spending all his time sitting at your side, back resting against the headboard and quietly watching whatever shitty movie you’d selected that day. 

When you were hungry, he’d cook you food, when you were sick he’d hold your hair out of the way as you vomited in the toilet, when you were caught in the throes of despair over your oncoming fate he’d hold you close in his arms and wipe away your tears until you were all cried out. 

On days where you felt a little better, Sukuna would lead you out of the house, grasping your hand in his, making sure to steady you whenever you stumbled. He’d take you on short walks in the woods, ensuring that you were appropriately bundled up for the snowy weather. 

It wasn’t like you had any fat to keep yourself warm these days, after all. 

He’d discovered that the first time the two of you had made love in your cabin a week after he’d arrived. You’d reached out to him in desire and lust, bashfully admitting that on that front you’d missed him significantly. It was clear that the whole thing felt humiliating to you, flushing furiously as you mumbled the request. 

But he didn’t mind, not when he’d been dreaming about having you like that again for months. 

He almost fell apart at the sight of your naked body. 

You were still beautiful - really you’d always be beautiful to him, but the transformation that you’d undergone in the months you’d been separated was heart-wrenching. Your skin was desperately thin, your ribs and collarbone sticking out too visibly, legs so slim that he was surprised you could walk at all. 

The reverence with which he treated you that night became the norm for every passionate encounter from that point on. He handled you like you were made of glass, his hands gentle against your skin, careful not to put too much weight on you as he sunk into you. It was terrifying to think that you were the same person that he’d flung halfway across a building earlier that year.

He loved you all the same. Adoring the way your small hands would cling to his broad shoulders and whine his name softly, occasionally bringing your fingers up to his face and tracing the disfigured side, as if it didn’t repulse you in the way he’d always imagined it would. 

It sickened him to think that he never would’ve repulsed you, that all his years spent in hatred were totally wasted. He hated that he could’ve come to you as he was and been rewarded with the same love that now had to be torn from him. He could’ve had years at your side, could’ve grown old with you. 

There was nothing that he hated more than himself. 

But while you were still breathing, he kept that hatred at bay. He’d ruined everything else for both of you, he wouldn’t ruin your last few weeks of life too. For now at least, he’d be happy for the time that he could have with you. He’d spend his days looking after you, laughing with you, making love to you, and holding you close in his arms each night. 

Because for the time being, all that was good laid within his grasp, and that was all that really mattered. 

“I always hated being called Shining Star.” You mumbled one evening, huddled up at his side, wrapped in three blankets as the two of you sat on the porch together. The sky was exceptionally clear that night, a blanket of stars visible across the sky. 

“Yeah?” He asked. In his time with you, neither of you had really discussed Shining Star, or all that had happened between you, almost finding peace in this being a place where you could disconnect from all that. 

What was the point in reliving it when you were in your final weeks of life? That would just be cruel. He wanted to spend all his time kissing you and holding you as close to him as possible, rather than talking over the specifics of how he had caused your tragic fate. 

“I never got to pick it. I hated that stupid fucking outfit and the ridiculous sword too. It was all so dumb. I’m not surprised you hated Shining Star, because I really hated her too.” 

He watched you curiously, not all that surprised by your statement. He’d come to suspect that was the case around the time that he’d executed his plan. Though, he’d been too consumed by hatred back then to really understand the implications of your feelings. 

You were just like him, stuck in a role that you didn’t really get to choose. The perfect life that Sukuna had always believed you lived was nothing more than an act, a coping mechanism to stop you from falling apart entirely. 

“I wish things could be different, but I’m glad to be free of her, you know?” 

“So you’re saying you’re glad I did what I did?” Sukuna asked, half-joking. It earned him a pointed glare.

“Obviously not,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But I am glad I don’t have to keep trying anymore. I’m not sure how long it would’ve been before I became like Shoko anyway, even if you hadn’t shown up.” 

He’d often wondered about that story you’d told him. He’d known you were lying about the specifics of Yuki’s death, but he’d never been sure if Shoko was another magical girl or if she had genuinely just been a person you’d known on the cancer ward as a teen. He supposed that your words confirmed it to be the former. 

“What actually happened to her?” He asked.

“She started ignoring the call to fight monsters - refused to ever put the amulet on. It drains your life force away until you finally die.”

Sukuna frowned, a little confused by your differing fates considering that the situations sounded similar. “Why didn’t her miracle get reversed, like yours?” 

“There was no need for her miracle to be revoked - her refusal to wear the amulet would kill her anyway. I think I was a special case.” 

You sighed, running a shaky hand through your hair, moving your gaze back up to the sky above you. In the light of the stars you didn’t look quite so frail or pale, he could almost pretend that you were the same person that he’d spent two bliss filled months with. 

“What I did, in being face to face with you and refusing to kill you, even though I had every chance to do so - that was me making an active choice to allow evil to continue in its path. After all, how could I be sure that you’d stop the monsters as I asked you to? It was a direct contradiction to my contract.” 

He hummed, the guilt that had sat with him for months hanging heavy in his gut. He’d known that your mercy was the reason for your current situation, but having you lay it out for him so directly certainly didn’t make him feel good. 

“What even dictates that?” He asked. 

In all this time he’d never really considered it. He’d known about your miracle, understood that you hadn’t been Shining Star from birth in the way that he’d always been a monster. But he’d never given much thought to the force that granted you your abilities in the first place. 

“Hell if I know,” you said, letting out a humorous huff. “Isn’t that insane? I’ve never known. A piece of paper appeared on my bedside one day telling me that I could be saved if I agreed to the terms. I was pretty delirious at the time so I thought I was hallucinating and signed it, because what did it matter?” 

Sukuna’s red eyes were wide in horror as he stared down at you, having understood that you’d had no choice regardless, but surprised at the extent to which you really hadn’t understood what you were getting yourself into - hardly of sound mind when you signed those papers. 

“Back then I would’ve done it even if I’d known it was all real though. No kid wants to die.” You said with a shrug. “And to be clear, I still probably wouldn’t change anything I’ve done in the time I’ve been alive. Even if I could do it all again, knowing that you were going to hurt me, it would still be worth it to have that time with you.” 

He stayed silent, trying to calm his pounding heart. “I still think you’re stupid,” he said softly. “If you ever get the chance to redo it all, you should stay far away from me.” 

Genuine laughter bubbled up from your chest as you leant in closer to him, taking advantage of his warm body. “I don’t think I could if I tried, because despite all the pain you’ve caused me, you gave my life some actual meaning for a little while.” 

It was hard not to genuinely despise himself after hearing the warmth that you injected into your words. How could he have hurt you in the way that he did, when you’d given him nothing but love and acceptance? This wasn’t the fate you deserved - you deserved better than death, and you certainly deserved better than him. 

He held onto you all the same, his lips brushing against the top of your head. As long as you’d allow him at your side, he’d stay there, even if he was unworthy. 

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a long time before you finally spoke again. 

“I think that the end is near, Sukuna.” 

His eyes widened, heart picking up fearfully at your simple statement. The way that you said it was so matter of fact, as if you were talking about the weather rather than your imminent demise. You wouldn’t look at him, your eyes fixed wistfully on the sky above. 

“No. You’re fine. There’s still time.” 

He caught the way you bit down on your lip. “I’m just- I’m so tired.” 

Panic caught desperately in his throat, his grip on you tightening, as if he could keep you tethered to this world so long as he held onto you tight enough. “There has to be a way - another miracle, something?” 

Your laughter was soft, gazing up at him with shining adoration. “All this coming from the man who said I meant nothing to him.” 

“Stop,” he mumbled, frustrated that you’d tease him at a time like this. “Please, there has to be something we can do.” 

Your hand moved to his chest, drawing circles comfortingly into his shirt. “Even if you could find a way, it would be another contract, another list of conditions for me to live by. I just can’t do it again,” you said. 

He opened his mouth to argue, to suggest that this time would be different because you had him and he’d protect you from anyone who might try to destroy your happiness. This time would be different because he’d be on your side. But you stopped him before he could say anything. 

“I think I died when I first signed that contract - my body just took a while to catch up.” The smile that you gave him was heart-wrenching, a flash of the mere teenager that had been forced into a role that she’d never wanted. 

It wasn’t fair. 

He should be the one to have died, it never should’ve been you. 

“Why are you crying? This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He hadn’t realised that tears were dripping down his cheeks until you playfully prodded at him, a wry smile on your haggard face. You had a point, this was the fate that he’d been chasing for all that time. 

And yet, sitting here with you in his arms, the last thing he wished for was your death. 

“I don’t want this.” His voice was quiet, barely audible. It felt like an important assertion to make to you, even here at the very end. He wanted you to know that he’d listened to you, he’d let go of his hatred in favour of holding on to you. 

He wished he could hold on for longer. 

“I believe you.” 

He stared down at you, hating you ever so slightly for the ease at which you said that. He was the last man you should ever put your trust in, he wasn’t deserving of your forgiveness, and yet you gave it to him anyway. Just like you always would. 

“I’m not as scared this time as I was at sixteen. You’re here to hold my hand.” 

His shoulders dropped at the finality of your words, raking his brain for anything to do or say that could change the direction of this evening. Coming up blank, he did the only thing that felt right, shakily reaching his hand out to yours. 

Slowly, he interlinked your fingers together, clutching your cold hand as tightly as he could. It felt so small within his grip, tiny and fragile, something for him to handle with the utmost care. You squeezed his hand weakly, letting out a deep sigh as you rested your head against his shoulder once more, staring up at the stars above. 

“In another life, I hope we meet again. I hope that in that world, we both do better.” 

He took a shaky breath, making no effort to stem the tears flowing from his crimson eyes. His eyes were trained on the side of your angelic face, committing your features to memory beneath the starlight. 

There was no doubt in his mind that he’d live in regret for the rest of his life, that he’d spend the rest of his lonely days missing you. 

He supposed that was what he deserved. 

But just for tonight, you were here in his arms and everything was right beneath the shining stars. 

“I love you,” he whispered, squeezing your hand tightly. 

You gazed up at him with shiny eyes filled with nothing but affection for the man who had ruined your life. 

“I love you too. I always will.”

a/n: sorry once again for this, although I'm sure some of you consider this to be the good ending since sukuna will literally never get over this and reader can finally have peace

I had two different endings in mind for this when I started writing - the other consisted of reader killing sukuna and staying trapped in the cycle, which just didn't feel like the right conclusion in the end!

thank you so much for all the love on this fic, its been by far my favourite series to write! I'll be focusing on finishing sweet tooth over the next few weeks before starting a new sukuna x reader x gojo fanatsy mini-series that I'm very excited about hehe

once again I'm sorry for the angst, and I hope you enjoyed reading!

taglist: @starmapz @feyrinnn @riri-1234 @cherrycokeline @4shrimps @dogggggggblog-kaye @winkii @keikeisuke @feyrasworld @sukubusss @motel6killer @yeagersss @gegeeeeeeeeeeex @autwizzy @adettee @himezoro @juiceboxluvr @sugrfairie @lmaogottazayn @pwd54gr54 @maya2848 @irislostinyouriris @anothergojostan @bam-boozledx @360seas @plaguecxlt @leave-rae-alone @daburasdoll @nicerthanu @monic19 @ankotaiyakii @aiive @indiewritesxoxo @throwmethroughawindow @wackywhip @seellove @kariatenoh @hashahasha @r0vena @dawnsoblivion @luvleixo @venettahaven @powerhayakawaa @dollienanaaa @justfiq @kaagrwl @yourfavkaur @martianzmars @jjkfannn34 @cupidstrace

Sighing as you found yourself standing outside his room, pausing to peek through the now cracked window, watching Sukuna sitting on his too-small bed, back against the concrete wall with his muscled arms folded across his chest, completely fucking naked as his furry ears bristled in irritation. 

He was attractive, annoyingly so, enough to remind you every time you saw him why the hybrid population kept increasing every year, but you as quick as the thought floated up, you shoved it back down. 

You knocked twice on the door before scanning your card again, peeking inside before stepping in, feeling his stare on you before you looked up at the man of the hour. Or well, tiger of the hour. 

“Took you long enough,” he tch-ed, a low growl escaping his throat as he sauntered to his feet. 

“What did you do this time?” You wryly asked, nose scrunching up as you let your eyes scan the rest of his room. Someone must have tried to toss some toys in, as if he was a cub instead of fully grown, the remains of a plush mouse scattered across the floor. 

“The blonde tried to bathe me,” he indignantly scoffed, head held proudly up. You were tempted to tell him that he had a perfectly good bathroom already attached to his room – complete with a shower and tub he could use to wash himself, if he wasn’t so high and mighty to insist on being babied. Or, according to his perspective, treated like the king of this place he frequently insisted he hated so much.

You exhaled, shutting your eyes for just a second to massage your temples in an attempt to stall the headache brewing behind them only to open them and find him standing six inches away. Looking down at you. 

“I told her you’re the only one that can touch me,” he muttered, low and almost lethal. His hand reached out to skim over your bicep, barely touching but still enough for you to feel the pressure behind his fingertips. “She sent in the fucking vet to try to sedate me.” 

“And how did that go?” You sarcastically asked, as if you didn’t have a pretty decent inkling. 

“Well, they called you, didn’t they?” He sharply retorted, cocking his head to the side, jaw clenched as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. 

He got what he wanted. 

And you got to scrub a ridiculously oversized man in a tub for twenty minutes while he complained about not having enough bath salts, rubbing a sponge over his ridiculously ripped back muscles as he muttered about how awful everyone else here was. Grumbling with gritted teeth while your hands ran over his spine, damp sleeves rolled up over your elbows as you traced shapes along his strong arms, his slightly musky scent still invading your nostrils no matter how much soap you used. 

It wasn’t bad, even if it was strong. 

All masculine and warm, whatever pheromones he was putting off having a funny effect on your head the longer you knelt so close to him, sighing as you reached into the water and pulled up the drain. 

“Bath time’s over,” you muttered softly, standing up and grabbing a thick towel to hold out for him, making a point to not look past the thick patch of his happy trail when he wrapped it around his waist, even if you couldn’t not notice the way his damp tail dripped water behind him after he got out. 

“Where are you goin’?” He growled when you started to walk back out, his claws poking out in protest as your hand paused just before you could scan your key card to get out. “Home,” you muttered. “You better have some clothes on when I come back.” 

The shelter sure spent fucking enough on custom robes big enough to fit him. 

He snarled, two seconds from making a snide comment, but you slipped out before he could. 

You were ready to crawl back into your own bed, curl up and get some sleep, maybe message your boss before you passed out that you’d be a little late in the morning since you had to come in overnight. Let yourself get an extra hour or two of rest before you had to deal with him again. 

Except, uh, your boss was already waiting for you in the lobby, Yaga leaning back against the receptionist desk and grimacing at the fluorescent lights as you stopped and stared. 

“Is everything okay?” You blinked a few times, just for him to fix you in a solemn stare.

And still, while your brain scrambled to come up with a reason for him being here too, you didn’t expect what left his mouth now as he jutted his thumb in the direction you came from. 

“Do you think you could foster him?” 

No. No, there was no way-

Except, um, apparently, there was a way when they offered you a hefty bonus and a few days off, and Shoko slipped a strong sedative in his breakfast so you could transfer him from his room back to your place – which you promptly had to Sukuna proof. 

You expected him to throw a fit when he eventually woke up, to try and break through your front door and escape. 

But he just sniffed the air slowly before he even lazily opened up his dark eyes to glance around your apartment, a crooked smile curling up as he centered his stare on you. 

“So I’m your problem now?” 

Was it too late to take him back? 

Trade in your annoying tiger hybrid for a fluffy housecat? 

In your personal experience, all felines were funny in that they could listen perfectly fine – they just didn’t care. 

And Sukuna was no exception. 

Shredding your curtains when you went out without telling him, sinking his sharp teeth into your pillows after you made him floss between them, turning your couch into his personal little nest and dragging your clothes from your closet into it. Judging the comfort of your blankets and commenting on how boring it was being here, acting like he’d rather be back at the shelter as he ate half the food in your fridge in a few hours. 

He was insufferable and spoiled and a million other awful adjectives you could assign him, but it wasn’t totally terrible to come home from your shifts to someone warm. Who’d begrudgingly let you scratch behind his ears and stroke his pretty, pink hair. You took him to the park as much as you could, ignoring the pointed stares you’d receive and the people who muttered that he should have a muzzle on while he begrudgingly stayed by your side. 

It wasn’t like you had a backyard he could stretch his limbs or lounge in. 

And two months in, you hadn’t exactly envisioned starting off your mornings with fur in your mouth and the weight of a full-grown man on your chest, but you guessed there were worse things. 

You might even miss him when all this came to an end, which, according to the text message you woke up to from Yaga, might be sooner than you think. Some rich guy had apparently called asking about him, claiming he owned thirty acres of land he used to house exotic hybrids and wanted to add Sukuna to his collection. 

Now you just had to figure out how to tell him that he might have a new owner. 

You tried to sneak over to the bathroom after carefully extracting yourself from underneath him, bare feet padding out while you glanced over your shoulder at the slumbering mass in your bed, a little bit of drool leaking down his lips as he snored on your pillow. 

He almost looked peaceful like this. 

As if you hadn’t gotten back from work last night to discover a stash of your panties underneath the daybed he’d currently taken over in your spare room. And the, um, dried substance they seemed to be coated in you’d 

 desperately been trying not to think too hard about. 

Okay, perhaps he was closer to a perverted roommate than a pet. 

But you couldn’t scrub out the guilt that seemed to cling to your skin in the shower, hot water running over your body as you sighed to yourself and debated on how you’d break the news when he had started to settle in here. 

At least there he’d be able to have the space he needed, time outdoors, probably better nutrition than what you could afford to keep in your fridge and pantry, even with the added provisions your work provided for him. He was about as antisocial as it came – but there might be other hybrids there that he could actually stand being around. Closer to his spot on the food chain instead of the other ones he usually sneered down at. 

His new owner might even treat him like the king he thought he was. 

The shower curtain was abruptly pulled back, your arm rushing to cover up your tits, but his eyes were just on yours, his sharp nose scrunched up in a familiar scowl as he grunted good morning, his clothes already stripped off as he stepped in after you. 

“What is your problem?” You huffed at him, but he just yawned, toothpaste stuck to his bottom lip as he reached past you to grab the bottle of specialty hybrid shampoo you bought for him. 

“Didn’t you tell me yesterday we have to conserve water or some shit?” He grunted, lathering up his hair like his rock hard dick wasn’t out and poking you in the thigh. 

“I didn’t mean-” You started to groan, lips pressed together in a flustered frown. Swallowing hard as you struggled to keep your stare somewhere appropriate. You’d like to pretend your relationship was entirely platonic. That it fit perfectly in the boundaries of what it was supposed to. 

Where the only spot of your heart he occupied was pure. That the growing intimacy you’d been ignoring was innocent. 

It was getting a lot fucking harder to believe it when he felt more and more like a person to you every day. More human. 

“You were takin’ too long,” he added, moving over to bump his hip into yours to start hogging the hot water for himself. 

You stepped back, goosebumps trailing down your arms once you were out of the stream, holding your breath as you debated on ripping the bandaid off while he was washing himself for once. 

“Someone wants to buy you,” you heard yourself say, unsure of what emotion it was in your voice as he suddenly went still, tail twitching as his shoulders straightened. “Um, adopt, I guess.” 

He turned his head, just barely, enough for you to catch his nasty side-eye and locked jaw. 

“That’s not fucking funny,” he growled. 

“Yaga texted me,” you continued, careful to keep your tone steady. “Said some guy with a ton of acres wants to take you in. Guess he like, collects rare-” 

“No.” 

“No?” You incredulously repeated. “You can’t just-” 

“I’m not going to be some fucking breeding stock for an asshole who wants to stick me in an enclosure,” he declared, your mouth hanging open at the wild assumption he jumped to just from a couple sentences. 

“Who said anything about breeding?” You gaped, eyebrows arching up as you stopped yourself from stomping your foot. 

“You’re delusional if you don’t think that’s the only reason someone would want a problem hybrid like me,” he half-glared at you, molars grinding as you tried to come up with a reason to argue with him. 

“I-” You stopped yourself, blinking too hard and fast. 

“Tell them no,” he spat the word back out, thick brows furrowed together tightly as he shut off the water. 

“What if someone else wants to-” You started, and his whole body twisted around, his arms suddenly caging you in as you shrank back against the cold walls of the shower, all the air in your lungs ripped from you as he pinned you in. 

“I’m yours,” he hissed. “You can’t just toss me out like I’m some fuckin’ stray.” 

You were pretty sure you were gawking, grasping at straws to push him away when heat was pooling and simmering in the pit of your stomach. 

“They’ll be able to give you a better life than-” 

His mouth crashed into yours, fingers tangling in your hair while he shut up your stuttered gasp with his tongue slipping past your lips. 

He didn’t ask for permission. 

But maybe it was because he didn’t need to. 

Because when it boiled down to it, you’d let him into your home. Your shower. Let him slice and carve out half of your heart, even when you knew he’d probably just chew it up and spit it out. 

“Mmph, S’kuna,” you tried to breathe, placing a damp hand on his bare chest, fingers pressing down as he just kissed you again, struck by how strange it was to taste your own toothpaste on him, smell your soap on his skin and see the strawberry-scented shampoo suds running down his chiseled chest. His cute fuzzy ears standing up straight between his wet strands of pink hair. 

“You want me to stop?” He dared between kisses, moving down to your jaw, painting your skin with greedy wet sucks as he dragged his rough tongue across the sensitive skin. “Wanna keep pretending that I’m just your pet?” 

He wasn’t. 

And when your eyes skimmed down his pretty chest and his dripping cock, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him no. 

“You know you’re not,” you whispered, as close as you could come to a confession. 

Let him grab you by the ass next, hoisting you up as his mouth returned to yours, matching his starving fervor, wrapping your wrists around his neck as he groaned into the kiss. And maybe it was how wrong it was, but you didn’t think any kiss before this had ever felt so right. 

His fingers dug into your soft flesh, dimpling it as he tried to claim you with his tongue and teeth, a low growl ripping from the deepest part of his chest you felt his cock catch right at your entrance. 

You sort of expected him to just cave into the desires you knew were hardwired into hybrids like him. Just jam his cock in and breed you until he had his fill, or uh, filled you up. It wasn’t like he could even get you pregnant, not when you’d been on birth control far before you met him. 

But before you could brace yourself for the burning stretch that was surely coming, he was ripping free from the kiss to lift you up higher. Like, a lot higher. 

Using that ridiculous strength of his to balance your weight as he pressed your damp body against the cold wall of the shower, ignoring your squirming until his your cunt was presented right in front of his mouth. 

Dragging his rough tongue across it, worming his way in before you could so much as mumble the probably needed what the hell was he doing. 

You guessed you already knew what the answer was. 

He was always starving, after all. 

You’d just become his breakfast. 

Your head leaning back against the shower wall while his hands steadily supported your weight, keeping your thighs spread enough to make room to bury his head between them. Sloppily swirling his tongue inside you, using the thick muscle to map you out, explore you with an expertise you hadn’t expected. An attention to detail you hadn’t thought he was capable of when it came to something that didn’t benefit him. 

Although, judging by the feral moans reverberating through you from his mouth, you guessed he was getting some pleasure in eating you out. 

Fingers digging in possessively to your soft flesh, his tongue flicking in-and-out fast, your chest straining to contain your rapid heartbeats as little jolts of electricity raced through the rest of you. Arousal and anticipation bleeding into each other as they overwrote your anxiety over what you were letting him do.

Just when his tongue slid back out, traced a messy line up to your needy clit, and you foolishly thought he was about to make you cum for him, his head turned up, looking up at you almost accusatory through half-lidded eyes. 

“You’re soakin’, brat,” he scoffed, and you could make out a hint of a crude smirk on his lips. 

“We’re in the shower,” you tried to retort, like heat wasn’t flooding your face – and between your legs. 

“Water’s been off for like, five minutes,” he reminded you. 

Your mouth fell open, but you couldn’t come up with a reply sharp enough to shut him up. 

It didn’t matter though. Because his hands shifted, and you were falling, a scary second passing before he grabbed you and pinned you back in the first position, chuckling with amusement as he lifted your thighs up, pressing them against your chest and squishing your tits as you tried to wiggle in his renewed grip. 

Stupid. 

He was too strong, his hold too tight, the tips of his claws teasingly pressing into your skin as you whined, more aware of the emptiness in your pussy than you’d like to be. The ache he’d left you with desperate to be soothed, stuffed. 

“You should go dry off,” he mocked, your heart stopping at his suggestion, playing right into his hand. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?” 

“Can’t you just shut up and fuck me already?” You hissed at him, swallowing the spit pooling in the back of your throat instead of stomping your foot like you instinctively wanted to. A little swish, a flash of orange caught your attention in the corner of your vision, a smile curling up on your lips when you realized his tail was wagging. 

He could play coy. 

Act sly and in control. 

But his body gave him away. 

And while you were distracted, he’d taken the chance to line himself up, angle and all, just to slide himself in like it was nothing, his saliva acting as lube as he shoved inch after inch in. His rather, ah, large girth barely able to make it through, your thoughts immediately fizzling out into a chorus of holy fucking shit, how much more is there only for it to keep going. 

His mouth returned to your face, leaving messy kisses all over your cheeks, down your jaw, wherever he could reach, like it could coax you through the mean stretch of his cock spearing you open. 

“So fuckin’ tight, brat,” he groaned, teeth gritted, his breath warm on your skin as you whined at the intense sensation of his hips moving, rolling up while you were struggling to even manage breathing at all. 

“Not my fault you’re so-” You couldn’t even finish, lips clamping shut as you realized you were about to stroke his ego. 

“M’so what?” He dared you to finish anyway, stalling inside you, making it obvious he wouldn’t move a muscle until you said it. 

Biting your lip as you begrudgingly murmured, “Big.” 

You were wondering who was really the pet here when it felt like you were being rewarded for good behavior after he pulled his cock out and pushed it back in, quickly picking up a steady rhythm – one that seemed specifically designed to unravel you. 

Pull you apart until you were reduced down to your basest instincts. 

Until you were like him. 

And even worse? 

It was working. 

A babble of syllables that sounded like his name falling from your mouth when he kept grinding into the soft, spongy spot in the back, pressing into it over and over again like it was a button built for breaking you down. Your sanity slowly dissolving into something he could swallow, his sharp teeth glinting when he bared them at you in a crooked smile. 

“You love me rutting into you like this, huh?” He growled, your head bobbing uselessly as his cock split you open deeper, grinding meanly into your cervix like it was his to claim. 

You did, and it, you were his, even if you sold yourself some other story to make yourself feel better. 

“A-asshole,” you groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair to try and find something to pull on, holding onto the slivers of rationality you had left by threatening to rip some of his hair out of his scalp. 

“Filthy fuckin’ girl,” he half-spat out, kissing you again so you couldn’t argue with him. His tongue returning to your mouth as he thrusted up faster, fucking you so full you were pretty sure you felt him in your lungs. Whining into the kiss until he pulled back, his dark red eyes glinting in the warm yellow lighting of your bathroom as he smirked, “What would your friends think if they knew you let me fuck you like this?” 

Pushing his lips out in a dramatic pout, but you just pulled his hair harder, trying to make him wince to match the weird feeling he kept stuffing down your throat, the hint of humiliation at knowing what he was trying to imply. 

That everyone you knew would judge you for sleeping with Sukuna. Say that you shouldn’t fucking have sex with the hybrid you were literally fostering. For good reason, too. 

But how the hell were you supposed to say no when his hands felt like they fit you? 

When every ridge of his swollen cock stretched you open just right? 

“I-I don’t care,” you protested, puffing out your chest despite your sore thighs being pinned to them. Muscles aching, straining as the rubber band you were currently clinging to threatened to snap hard the longer he rutted into you. 

But then, right as his fat tip grinded up against your womb, he stopped, ignoring your irritated huff for him to continue. 

“Kuna,” you started, but before you could form another syllable, you felt it. Him. 

The base of his cock slowly ballooning, his knot trying to take hold and work its way up inside you, to lock himself in. You made some strangled noise you didn’t even know you were capable of, a guttural sound torn from the deepest part of your throat as the pressure built and soared, feeling yourself getting molded and practically reshaped by his size. 

“C’mon,” he growled, just as raw and rough as you expected from him, one of his huge hands slipping between your thighs, a calloused thumb covering your clit as he started rubbing mean circles over it. Distracting you from the fact you were being destroyed, remodeled around his cock, flames of lust licking over your sensitive bundle of nerves as he sent another set of shudders down your spine. “Don’t tell me you can’t take it.” 

You could. 

You would. 

Just as stubborn as he was, even if you were shutting your eyes and biting the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood, the pain of the stretch melting into white-hot pleasure as he began kissing your collarbone, trailing up higher until his lips were pressed against the crook just above it. 

His teeth sank into your throat, your entire body shivering under the sheer force to it, something inside you pulling tight as you gasped some broken cry of his name. But he didn’t let go. Didn’t retract. Just bit down harder, feeling you spasm and squirm around him as he held on, the knot at the base of your entrance somehow managing to inflate more. 

You dragged your nails down his back, probably shredding the skin there, leaving long scratches of your own to mark him as yours too. 

“Mine,” he growled, licking the sore spot while your brain struggled to process what was happening. What he’d just done. 

You couldn’t exactly drop him back off at the rescue when he’d made you his mate. 

Left a huge fucking hickey you’d be stuck living with, a bond forged from baths and breakfasts and boring movies. 

You knew it was a bad idea. 

But you didn’t want to break it. 

He was yours, wasn’t he? Wasn’t it only right that you were his too? 

Letting all those negative thoughts fade as you gave into how fucking good he felt, his mouth on your neck and his thumb massaging your clit and his cock filling up every crevice until you weren’t sure where you started and he ended anymore. 

“Say it,” Sukuna gruffly grunted, his thumb hesitating, knowing just how close you were and still teasing you anyway. 

“I’m your mate,” you admitted, your weak voice coming out in a whimper as he dragged you to a climax with just a harsh swipe of his thumb. White stars splotching and staining your vision, heat simmering through you as your thighs trembled, muscles begging for relief as his heavy breathing undercut the drone of the bathroom exhaust fan. 

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hissed, cumming right after you, still rubbing your clit through it, warm ropes of cum filling you up and getting plugged inside by his knot. Not even able to leak down your thighs as it held fast, your thoughts distant and dreamy as slowly floated back down to earth. 

Hesitantly meeting Sukuna’s dark eyes only to find them already focused solely on you, clouded with something that looked an awful lot like love up this close. 

“I’m staying here,” he grumbled, nose scrunching up as his tail wrapped around your leg. 

You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of him even if you wanted to. 

Now how the hell were you supposed to tell your work? 

reblogs + comments are always greatly appreciated <3