#be warned it’s dark

[tojisbbygworl]

The Apartment Across The Street pt. 1 - Sukuna x Reader

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.

Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

Words: 6.7k

Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)

WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence

AO3 Version

Masterlist

author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing. art cred: @innaillus

Pt. 2 Pt. 3

That apartment used to be empty.

Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.

Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.

He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.

After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.

-

All it took was the next morning.

Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do. 

He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.

He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.

He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.

He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.

The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.

The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.

“She’s cute though.”

Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”

This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.

“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.

“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.

‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”

His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah…okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.

He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.

Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

-

It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.

Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.

The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.

As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.

There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.

Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.

He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.

Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.

He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”

Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?

Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.

Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.

-

“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”

Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.

Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.

“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”

He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.

Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.

Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.

“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”

I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.

To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.

“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”

Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.

He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.

-

It was over.

He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.

Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?

She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.

His memory is not enough. He wants her.

He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.

Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.

He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.

He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.

Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”

“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.

Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”

Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”

He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.

She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.

Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.

“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.

She ran.

-

And that was the worst thing she could have done.

There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.

That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.

Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.

She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.

She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.

In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.

She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.

She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.

As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.

Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.

She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-

What was that noise?

A bump. In her bedroom.

What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?

No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…

-

Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.

The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.

He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.

She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too. 

When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.

And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.

He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.

-

It all happened in a second.

She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?

She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.

She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.

Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”

Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”

She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”

She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”

He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”

-

He disgusts her.

He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.

He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.

That’s how she felt.

He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.

‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’

She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.

He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.

He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”

She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?

“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.

Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.

Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.

“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.

He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.

“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.

“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”

He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.

His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”

“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.

“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…

“I’m yours, Sukuna.”

A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?

She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.

If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.

She was so fucking stupid.

-

He repeated that all night.

‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.

He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.

He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.

‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.

She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.

Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.

She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.

She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?

She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.

In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”

What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”

“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”

All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk? 

Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?

-

Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.

She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.

Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?” 

She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”

He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”

Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”

“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.

“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.

“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”

ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !

Masterlist

W E L C O M E P A G E

[olivetreestastelikewood]

Searched for a fic like this. Couldn’t find it anywhere.

Fine, I’ll do it myself.

It took a few tries before Boruto managed to wake up. The first time, it’d been completely dark. The second, he’d been thrown over someone’s shoulder. He’d managed to stay awake a little longer than the first time before being dragged back into oblivion. The third time, he stayed awake. The first thing he saw was himself. 

writing a Boruto fic where Boruto gets kidnapped by a creep, it’s on AO3 under same handle as “call my name and save me from the dark”.

Afour chapters posted, fifth currently being written!

[nectardraws]

michael awareness poster

[reignpage]

Perverted things JJK men do (established relationship)

Gojo

Cums in your conditioner bottle. He loves knowing that you wear him with you every day, that when people brush against you and inhale your sweet scent, they’re also smelling him. Satoru likes to think that it sends, on a cellular level perhaps, a message telling them you’re taken, by him. 

Intent on keeping this a secret, he does the grocery shopping every time you let him know you’re running out. Unscrewing the bottle, he places the head of his cock into the hole just as he’s about to reach his peak, jerking his long and pink cock off as fast as he can, biting his bottom lip to keep from making a noise that might alert you to the depravity that’s going on in the bathroom. 

Then, once he’s spilled his seed, he screws the lid back on and shakes vigorously to ensure it’s all mixed in properly and that every pump will have his cum in it. Satoru counts the hours until you excuse yourself to the bathroom and waits, in anticipation and with a leaky cock, for you to emerge all fresh and brand spanking new.

He’s never once told anyone else this, and he himself does not understand why he feels the urge to be so perverted. Sometimes he wonders how you’d react if he told you. Would you get mad? Make him stop? Or maybe you’d find it hot or adorable?

Whatever it’ll be, Satoru’s not eager to find out anytime soon. So, he continues his routine, smiles when you get a compliment on your hair, and frowns when you say you want to stop using hair conditioner and wear a hair mask instead.

What the heck is a hair mask?

Geto

Takes advantage of your sleeping form. It started off completely innocent. He just liked watching the faces you make: your brows furrow when you’re having a nightmare, your bottom lip quivers when you exhale just a little too hard, and you sometimes smile when you’re having a dream he can only hope involves him. 

But then, the urge to do something darker, something secretive overwhelmed him. At night, you’re completely vulnerable. He loves pushing what he can get away with. He’ll manoeuvre your body into positions he likes — arms wide open so he can see your breasts press against the thin confines of your tank top, nipples hard and poking through; legs spread and feet together in a butterfly position so he can see your panties tight against your pussy lips, the imprints defined and he can run his finger down the seam, pressing harder where your clit is just to hear your gasp; and keeping your body still so he can pull the neckline of your tank top down, baring your beautiful tits to the night air and wrap them around his cock.

He juts between the valley, tip knocking into your chin and leaving a wet trail that breaks off as he pulls back just to thrust forward again. Careful not to thrust too hard, lest the bed creaks and you're jostled awake, he uses the immorality of his act to get himself going, knowing that you're vulnerable to his ministrations. But Suguru isn't a bad boyfriend, so he leans back and presses hard against your pussy, rubbing you to an orgasm only your sleeping form can appreciate.

Ever the gentleman, he cums into a tissue and not into your mouth, and only then can he fall asleep beside you. Then, in the morning, he shrugs when you wonder why you're always soaked in the morning. Must have had a wet dream, he says.

Choso

Takes your dirty panties with him for moral support. You don’t know he does this and he’d very much like to keep it that way in case you chalk it up to him being a curse and not knowing what's right and wrong. He knows it's wrong. The truth is, he just really really likes you. Loves you, in fact. So, he sneakily steals a panty or two from the laundry basket and stuffs them in his pockets. 

There’s just something about being able to carry you with him whenever he goes. Whether, it’s whilst he’s in the car, sparring, or on a mission. He can take a piece of you out and inhale your scent, bask in your sweetness, and memorise every part of you to heart. 

Of course, his intentions aren’t entirely romantic and pure. He also really likes to jerk off with your used panties wrapped around his cock. It’s shameful and embarrassing and so depraved, he knows that, but that’s precisely what gets him going. Knowing you’d be shocked bye the extent of his adoration for you makes him thrust faster. He imagines you watching, with that saccharine sweet voice, telling him to show you just how much he loves you. And he never wants to disappoint you, so in the car, parked somewhere dark, he presses the cold, wet spot of the gusset to his nose and takes a long and deep inhale. 

The car shakes with the ferocity of his jerking. One hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white and the other holding your panties to his cock head, connecting his tip to where you were and imagining that it’s your pussy wrapped around him. The scent, the wetness, the wrongness of it all makes him cum harder than he should. And just in time to pick you up too. This way when he gets to have the real thing with you, he’ll last longer. 

Toji

Pisses you off on purpose. Can’t blame him. You’re so fucking adorable when you’re mad. Seriously. You make this pouting face when you think whatever excuse he’s giving you is complete and utter bullshit, which it is. Then, you’ll cross your arms, pushing those bouncy tits up, foot tapping and accentuating your long legs. Stomping around and yelling as if you know what you’re doing. You should know by now that raising your voice only gets him hard. And damn, when you smack his chest to get his attention, it makes his dick jump in his boxers. 

Leaving the toilet seat up or not using a coaster, all of it irks you and gets him going. Of course, he doesn’t do it often; you’ll goddamn leave him if he did, that’s for sure. So, he saves his little tricks up his sleeve for when he’s really horny. Like now, when he didn’t take the meat out of the freezer to defrost in time for when you came home. You’re talking his ear off about how irresponsible he is, shrugging off your work clothes one by one until you’re left in a white button up and just panties, completely blind to how he’s grinning ear to ear, watching you bend over, showing him the smooth, round fats of your ass. 

God, he loves the infuriated look on your face. You’re fuming. The best part about it all is the angry sex you’re about to have. Maybe you like to get mad at him for the same reason. Maybe you hope, as you walk up to the door of your house, that he’s fucked up something, anything. And who is he to deny you? So, with faux indignation, he grabs you by the throat and hisses for you to shut the fuck up, get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours. Put it to better use than yapping, he says, eyes rolling back at the intensity of your suction.

Nanami

Swaps out your birth control for sugar pills. He knows it’s wrong. God, does he ever. But the temptation is too hard to resist. Kento’s already pushing it with the fact that he convinced you to get on the pill so you can make love with no barrier between you two but he just had to go a step further and make sure that the pill is useless. 

It only started recently. He just wanted to fuck once knowing he could be making you a mommy at any given moment. The thought of you all plump and round with his child drives him crazy. It makes him rut into you with no rhyme or rhythm, just pushing the overflowing cum he’s already pumped in there deeper into your pussy, tutting when they spill out of you. Thumbing the errant drops, he tells you to open up and pushes it down your throat; if his cum won’t go into your womb then it should go into your stomach, right?

The tears in your eyes from the overstimulation makes his cock throb. This one of the very rare moments he ever allows himself to make you cry and he imagines you'll also cry tears of joy when you find out you're pregnant with his child, and again when the baby, a little girl he hopes, is in your arms.

Kento knows he’ll be good to you. He’ll be so good. He’ll massage your swollen feet, waddle you over to the toilet, pulling your panties down for you when you can’t, tending to every craving no matter how odd and no matter at what time. You know he’ll be a good father — he’s sweet, caring, firm when needed, reliable and dependable. So, he reasons that you won’t mind if his seed does take hold. 

You love raw sex just as much as he does, after all. 

Sukuna

Makes you think he’s going to kill you. He has no remorse. The high is incredible. You have a penchant for pissing him off, so when his irritation finally boils over, you see a glint in his eyes and a tick in his jaw that very much tells you one thing: run. 

Of course, he has a soft spot for you so he gives you a head start. He’s a monster, not a man. Every part of him is attune to his surroundings. He knows every inch of the estate and better yet, he knows you. Where you like to hide, where you think he’d think to look, and where your little legs could take you in the short time he gave you. Sukuna could seek you out immediately, but the fun isn’t in the victory. It’s in the conquest. 

Voice loud, he taunts, “I can smell your fear, woman. I can hear your pathetic quivering. I know where you are. And when I find you, I’m going to tear you to pieces.”

For the effect, he even picks up an unnecessary weapon. A stoke or an axe, something that will make a chilling noise as he drags it along the wooden floor or scrape it against the wall, letting you know he’s getting closer and closer. His cock is throbbing in his robes, heavy and swinging, as he takes a deep inhale of the fear permeating the air. It’s salty from the sheer prospect of pain and death, but also sweet because it’s undeniably yours. 

Entering your chambers, he rolls his eyes at how utterly predictable, and foolish, you are. You clear haven’t learnt from any of the stupid horror movies you’ve forced him to watch — hiding under the bed is the worst thing you can do. He reminds you of that when his big hand wraps around your ankle, fondling the frail bone, and tugs. Sukuna rejoices, and leaks cum, at the blood curdling cream you let out. 

You dangle in the air as his monstrous form towers over you. When he sniffs at your pussy and smells the juices you’re leaking out too, he knows you get off on the thrill too, and perhaps, that’s the real reason he loves this so much.

[akanemnon]

I wonder if she takes cash or credit.

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[wiltkingart]

This is a ritual, a prayer, a plea.

This is a sacrifice, a bloodletting, a need.

This is a transformation of flesh, one stitch at a time. This is meat from a stone, warm and pulsating. From one mouth to another, this is the passing of a story with far too many limbs, slick and scaly. -

Mouth to Mouth to Mouth is a collection of transmasc horror erotica, made up of 7 short stories featuring insects, elves, fairies, and more -- all mired in the grotesque and profane. I cannot be happier with how this turned out, and I hope you find it sickening.

[out now] // goodreads // storygraph

[hehearse]

@akilah12902 thought that it was a missed opportunity to not have Naaber despair over The Dark Urge not having a birthday <3 and thus my life was funded once again <3

[floridagrowngirl]

Tornado touchdown, Northern Colorado, 2015

[ct-tupperware]

Kix + caring immensely about his brothers

[petrichormariposa]

I don’t think brenna’s the type of person cut out for this durge life

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal 3

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, prisoner!Sukuna, modern au, no curse au, dead dove, vivid descriptions of violence including murder, dark romance trope, read at your own discretion, brief mention of smut at the very end.

Synopsis: Sukuna is in prison because of you. He’s ordered to undergo weekly counseling sessions. Talking to his counselor about you, it's apparent that his obsession with you is quite concerning.

An: Updates with this story are slow because I really care about it, and I want to do it justice.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three. | Session four.

Each session with Sukuna left the counselor wanting more. He had to give to the prisoner: he was a phenomenal story teller. Sukuna was generally antisocial. He only conversed with others if he felt like he would gain something out of the conversation, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t incredibly charismatic.

Anyone with eyes could tell that Sukuna knew how to work a room to his advantage. Hell, his trial was basically an event for all of his fangirls. He had been turned into an idol by the press.

Unhealthy, sick individuals praised his actions. They edited his mugshots to look all cutesy. It felt like every chronically online young woman wanted to be you in this situation.

People tried finding out your true identity, but your name had been scrubbed from the media completely. Your name was a privilege to know. The counselor merely knew it because he had looked through the warrants and made copies of them before they were sealed away.

The counselor had been busy since his last session with Sukuna. He couldn’t get enough of Sukuna’s story. He went digging, trying to find you or anyone else from Sukuna’s past.

That was when he found out about Jin, Sukuna’s missing twin brother.

Immediately, the counselor had a gut feeling that Sukuna was to blame for this. He wasn’t stereotyping the prisoner, but if anyone went missing or dropped dead around Sukuna… he was usually the one to blame.

So when Sukuna came trudging back into the counselor’s office, shackles and cuffs jingling with each step, the counselor took note of Sukuna’s bloodied knuckles. It seems as if the prisoner had been busy this week too.

“What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?” The counselor asked, promptly skipping all greetings and pleasantries. He and Sukuna were the type of men who loathed small talk anyways.

Sukuna plopped down on the couch, and he let out a hearty laugh from the counselor’s concerns. “Trouble seems to find me, doc.” He answered noncommittally, shrugging his shoulders in nonchalance.

“How so?” The counselor pressed lightly. After his first couple sessions with Sukuna, he had gotten a grasp as to just when to press on and when to back off.

Sukuna eyed his cuffed hands, looking at the dried up blood and scabbed over wounds on his knuckles. “You know newbies always come in looking for something to prove.”

That… made sense. Sukuna was a big man. In fact, he was the biggest man in his pod. The newbie inmates were always looking to fight the biggest fish in the pond to prove something. It never worked in their favor. Usually, they just became the big guy’s bitch.

“I’m surprised they don’t have you in solitary confinement then.” The counselor commented, relaxing in his chair. What an odd thing to do… relax in the face of a heinous criminal. This line of work had definitely jaded the counselor.

“Got out this morning.” He grumbled lowly, not caring to continue on with this conversation any longer. He came to these sessions to relive his memories of you, not to talk about stupid shit like the newbies in the jail.

“Lucky you.” The counselor commented as he flipped through a stack of papers. “Tell me about your brother, Sukuna.”

The pink-haired male immediately gritted his teeth together so hard that it was a wonder how he didn’t shatter them. His muscles tensed, and he eyed the counselor closely, trying to decide whether the counselor had gone mad or not.

“Considering you’re asking me, I assume you already know all about him.” Sukuna answered lowly. His dark gaze was unwavering.

“I only know that his name is Jin, and he’s missing.” The counselor responded. He kept his body language open, so Sukuna would know the he’s telling the truth.

“That’s all you need to know.”

“So, Jin never met mouse?” The counselor gently pressed.

Sukuna’s breath went eerily still as his teeth ground together. His lips twitched into a snarl. If looks could kill like Sukuna did, the counselor would be dead by now. “He did.” He answered shortly, suddenly not such a good story teller.

“You don’t seem like you were very fond of him. Why not?” The counselor asked carefully. He knew if he brought you up again, Sukuna would probably snap… then snap his neck in half, and he valued his neck remaining intact.

“Jin wasn’t the star pupil everyone made him out to be. Only I knew his true nature.” Sukuna replied. He was still tense, but he at least wasn’t on the verge of catching another murder charge. It’s not like it mattered anyways. What’s one more charge? He’s serving life already.

“Everyone treated him like a star pupil?” The counselor asked, clicking his pen to start taking case notes. He was finally getting somewhere this session. Sukuna’s sessions were way too short already. The jail was too afraid of him having too much time to hurt somebody, so he was only allowed to have 20-minute sessions before he was escorted straight back to his pod.

“Tch. Everyone fucking adored him, never spoke an ill word ‘bout him.” Sukuna explained. “Our parents didn’t know they were having twins until after he was born, and I was coming out shortly after. He was the firstborn — the one they were expecting, the one that they cared about. I was just a surprise mistake compared to Jin. They had to scramble to make ends meet.”

The counselor stayed silent for a moment. It was apparent Sukuna likely lacked any parental love or guidance. His parents probably saw him as a burden. That would fuck anyone up in the head.

“Jin was their son. I was the reason for their financial struggles and stress. It didn’t help that Jin apparently came out malnourished as fuck, while I was a healthy baby. I apparently hogged all of the nutrients. It was a wonder why I didn’t just absorb him in the womb. Compared to Jin, my parents thought I was a soul-sucking leech.” Sukuna spoke with very little emotion in his voice. He wasn’t sad or even scorned. It simply just was something he dealt with.

“Did that bother you… seeing Jin receive love from your parents?” The counselor asked, attempting to gain some insight to Sukuna’s feelings on everything.

“Fuck no. I couldn’t care less. It was honestly a blessing that our parents paid me no mind. It made it easier to do whatever the hell I wanted without being bothered.” Sukuna answered confidently. His amused expression slowly coming back to him.

“That four-eyed freak could have our parents’ affection. I only gave a damn about mouse.” He added, picking some lint off of his jumpsuit.

“So, how did Jin meeting mouse lead to him going missing?” The counselor pressed, giving Sukuna a look. He knew this scenario all too well. Sukuna didn’t take well to sharing you, and if Jin got too close to you, well…

“You’re not as stupid as you seem, doc.” Sukuna said with a reserved grin. He leaned his head back against the couch, revealing his sculpted jaw along with his adam’s apple. Sukuna’s neck tattoo was playing peek-a-boo from his jumpsuit.

“Thanks?” The counselor asked with a hesitant scoff, causing Sukuna to grin more.

“You’re skipping a few chapters though.” Sukuna added as he finally found his reprieve in living out his memories with you. “When she was 16, mouse finally opened up to the idea of being mine. It only took a few instances to make her realize she wasn’t getting rid of me, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to find another who cherishes her like I do.”

The counselor knew Sukuna was leaving out key details with his “instances” like… the time he strangled a guy within an inch of his life for asking you out on a date, or the time that he tied down another guy to his motorcycle and drug him down a gravel road for giving you a very romantic valentine’s day gift, OR the time he nearly shoved a tattoo gun into his artist’s eye for hitting on you right in front of him.

“So, you two became official when she was 16?” The counselor prompted as he jotted more notes down on his notepad.

“Nope.” Sukuna replied with a toothy grin to the counselor’s surprise. “We made an oath to each other. Exclusivity. She nor I could see anyone else.” The prisoner explained, only confusing the counselor even more.

“So, you two were committed to each other, but you weren’t… romantically involved?” The counselor asked with furrowed eyebrows. It made no sense for Sukuna’s m.o. Sukuna loved through possession, owning someone. He also didn’t like sharing. There was no reason for him not to make you commit to him romantically.

“Mouse is.. a bit younger than I am by nearly two years. She was 16, and I was about to turn 18 soon. Her birthday fell in that weird timing for school, and I was held back in first grade. That’s how we ended up in the same class.” Sukuna explained, but it still made no sense in the counselor’s mind. “I knew if I made her mine when she was 16, I wouldn’t have wanted to hold back. So, in my oath, I promised to take her and give her all of me when she was 18.”

Now, that made sense.

In Sukuna’s twisted logic and severely skewed morals, he thought he was protecting you by making you wait until you were 18 to finally be official with him.

“That must’ve been hard to wait that long for her.” The counselor commented, unsure of what to say.

Sukuna shot him a warning glare. “I’d wait a century for her.” He responded in a low growl. It was a clear indication to not make anymore comments regarding you in that manner.

The counselor back-tracked, not wanting to lose Sukuna’s feeble trust. “So, what does this have anything to do with Jin?”

Sukuna relaxed with a low huff, and he sat back in his seat as he went back to telling his story. “Jin got whatever the fuck he wanted: money, girls, popularity, and he didn’t like someone having anything he didn’t.” He explained to the counselor.

“Mouse had just recently turned 18. It was our senior prom night, and I had plans to show her exactly how patient and disciplined I had been for two years.”

“You don’t seem like the type to go to prom.” The counselor commented in an amused tone.

“I only went because mouse wanted to go. She wanted one last opportunity at being a normal teenager… whatever that meant.” Sukuna explained. His expression seemed to falter to more of a thoughtful one. The counselor began to wonder if Sukuna ever regretted subjecting you to his depraved nature.

“Jin was, of course, elected prom king. He wouldn’t have accepted less, and some bitches thought it’d be funny to rig the ballot to have mouse win. They wanted to publicly humiliate her while she was on stage, knowing she still struggled talking publicly.” Sukuna went on, and slowly, the pieces started to fit together.

“I was going to create a scene, take the heat away from her, but Jin decided to take manners into his own hands and thank everyone on her behalf… as if he fucking knew her well enough to do that.”

“I was going to try to hold it in. It was just one dance with Jin. Then, I could take her home and claim her. I just had to watch one dance, but Jin knew this would be the only fucking time he had the upper hand on me. It wasn’t enough that he had our parents under his thumb. He wanted the one fucking thing that was mine and mine alone.”

A shiver went up the counselor’s back as he watched Sukuna closely. The prisoner was seething, clenching his cuffed hands together so hard that his knuckles were popping in agony. His jaw was clamped shut as he remembered what it was like to see Jin dance with you.

The counselor had seen Sukuna mad, but this was pure rage.

“What did he do, Sukuna..?” The counselor asked shakily as the air in the room was so tense. The counselor knew that their twenty minutes were coming to an end, but he hoped to god the guards got distracted so Sukuna could finish his story.

Sukuna’s breath was ragged as he recalled the memory. “His hand kept fuckin’ wandering to places it didn’t belong. I couldn’t hear him talkin’ in her ear, but I could read his lips. He was talking about some fucking after party, and he was trying to convince her to ditch his “degenerate freak little brother”. He said he’d show her a good time.”

“I was going to let it slide for the sake of not wanting to ruin mouse’s last night in high school. One fucking dance. I knew mouse wasn’t going to agree to any of that, not after we had promised ourselves to each other, but the fucker was persistent. He grabbed her arm and tried to lead her back to where his table of fucking losers were sat. She tried to pull away, but he knew he was stronger than her.” Sukuna shook his head, picking at the scabs on his knuckles to make himself bleed. It was almost a release from the pure anger he felt as he remembered that night.

“What did you do to him, Sukuna?” The counselor quietly prompted.

Sukuna’s eyes met his, and he bit the side of his cheek for a moment as if he was deciding whether he wanted to admit to yet another crime. He knew he was protected under patient confidentiality, but he had never admitted to Jin’s disappearance — not even to you.

“I dragged him out of the school. There was a pig farm behind the school. The electric fence was made out of metal. The fence posts were sharp on the top. We got to arguing about mouse. He kept asking why I cared about a little piece of ass when I didn’t care about anything else.” Sukuna continued picking at his scabs. His movement was almost compulsive to a degree.

“He said she deserved a normal life — not one that I could give her. He fucking… he fucking called it, said I’d either end up dead or in jail. Then, he made the fucking mistake of saying he’d be there to take good care of her while I’m gone.”

There was a beat of silence between the two. The counselor knew what was coming next, so he braced himself for Sukuna to describe the murder.

“I bashed his fucking head into the metal stake. He immediately died, impaled straight through his brain. I then fed his body to the pigs. I fabricated evidence to make it look like he left prom early to go meet up with a girl down in Shibuya. I buried his bones and teeth down in a graveyard after the groundskeeper inevitably fell asleep while he was on watch.”

The counselor had to bite back the urge to throw up his lunch. The food was crawling up his esophagus. He couldn’t even formulate the words to say in response. Sukuna was truly a monster for you. He had killed his own flesh and blood for insinuating that he could take you away from him.

That wasn’t even why he was caught. Jin was still on the missing persons list. His remains had never been recovered. His parents likely mourned Jin, and they had no idea it was their other son who killed him.

Sukuna leaned in, speaking with a feral grin. “I went back to mouse in the early hours of the morning, took a long shower, and fucked her until dawn, making sure she knew inside and out who the fuck she belongs to.”

“Ryomen! Times up! Let’s go!” The buzzer rang loudly in the counselor’s office, causing for him to flinch in his seat.

The counselor should’ve known better than to go digging around in Sukuna’s past. He got what he asked for. He knew that he would have to delve in to the murder that actually got him caught next session, and that terrified him even more.

Taglist: @catladythoughts @pinky0328 @coldluminarykoala @lemonlimecrystal-blog @san-it-is-i-guess @kunasthiast @nonamevenus @ecliipzed @jup1tersuccubus @gojodickbig @totallygyomeiswife @gremlinartstudio @tojislittleprincesss @jaybirdluvr73 @emyyy007 @b3bybunny @unofficialsapphire @thequeenofcurses @canecomplex @sukubusss @satosugu4-ever @theonlyhonoredone @eravariety @kaged-kitty @stargirl-mayaa @jinxiewritings @startwithrecords @nikki-demi @samoankpoper21 @grinnwolph @mizuwki @cisseadven @meandmyhomieshateshibuya @gradmacoco @lolololololhanma @theuclid @uma0777

[tojisbbygworl]

The Apartment Across The Street pt. 2 - Sukuna x Reader x Toji

Toji and Sukuna have been friends for a long time, and any new endeavor Sukuna was involved in, Toji was his right hand man and vice versa. This had to be his favorite by far.

Words - 7.03 K

Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Angst, Drugs, Jailbirds, Sukuna x Toji, Shower Sex, Blowjob

WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Choking, Violence

AO3 Version

Masterlist

author's note: can you tell i watched breaking bad and narcos lol. Took me a minute to figure out how to continue it and then I wrote wayyyyyyy too much so now the entirety of pt 3 will be smut and maybe reader's backstory once I figure it out completely. there's some toji x sukuna exposition. the zenins give 80s mob bosses so i tried to make toji sound like a sleazy, NY, thug without overdoing it. maybe he doesn't sound like anything but whatever

art cred: @kohhomaru dm for removal

pt. 1 pt. 3

Toji always got what he wanted.

Sukuna learned that very quickly rotting in prison. He hadn’t seen his family in years, and all his friends threw him into the street just days before the house got raided. He hadn’t snitched, it was a girl who was friends with another girl he had sex with the night before. The girl he’d strangled to death after cumming inside her.

She wanted him to go rough, she liked pain and loved every thing he did to hurt her. He bit her, slapped her, she gave him a pocket knife to run down her side, but she moaned the loudest when his hands wrapped around her throat, cutting off her windpipe. And so, that’s how he ended her life.

Had she not started clawing at his arms, choking and crying and begging him to stop, those sounds becoming gargled coughs as the air was trapped in her lungs, maybe, Sukuna would have lost interest. But he loved not giving her what she wanted. For so long, he had no control over his life; his friends got him addicted to ketamine and meth, just like his mother, his father beat her and him then left when his brother was born, he was forced to start dealing when Todo gave him a zip, whispered “get the money then run”, and ran off himself. Sukuna got shot in the leg that night, and had a target on his back ever since.

Of course he didn’t go to school, of course he flunked out. Of course his mother hated him. Of course he neglected his little brother. Of course he hated him for having a better life. His mother loved him more, Yuji was nothing like their father, viscous and prideful just like Sukuna. No, Yuji was full of life and joy, and his mother, though they were poor, made sure Yuji had everything he needed. Sukuna had to fend for himself. “You chose your life, now deal with it,” she would say, not even considering that he didn’t choose to be alive.

He thought that was the only choice he could make, but he realized he was a coward. He has many scars, none of which went deep enough in the right places.

Of course, Yuji hated him too. He didn’t understand, he just didn’t understand how much better than Sukuna he had it. Maybe, if Sukuna had kept beating up his bullies for him, they would be closer. But, Yuji got friends, and he became a popular little shit. Of course. Yuji was a good person.

Maybe that’s why he hated him. They have the same parents, but turned out completely different. Eventually Sukuna would find out that it wasn’t his fault, that his father’s influence ruined his personality and his mother’s life. That his mother didn’t love him, and didn’t care how he turned out. His mother let him stay out after dark, wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Yelled at teachers when they called about his performance in class. Let him sit in holding cells until a family member came for him instead. And even they stopped coming eventually.

Eventually Sukuna would realize, but it would be too late.

When the light left that girl’s eyes, Sukuna felt a sense of accomplishment. Yes, finally, he was in control. Telling him no, ignoring him, hating him, meant nothing.

He woke up to a scream the next morning. The girl’s friend had come upstairs and found him with the blanket just below his waist and the poor dead woman laying still beside him. His friends offered her money to keep silent after throwing him out, but a week later, in a new trap house, the police busted down the door and handcuffed him with his face to the floor.

The friend snitched and his old house was raided. They never found the girl he’d murdered, and since he’d been kicked out, his friends were in much deeper shit than him.

Still, he had no one in jail, and was even more alone in prison. One of the only good things about meeting Toji Zenin.

His cellmate was unlike anyone he’d met before. Almost amused by being behind bars. He was already in the cell when Sukuna was thrown in. He nodded his head at him then laid back down on the bottom bunk. Sukuna put his clothes on the top bunk and laid down himself. A few seconds later, he heard the light of a match and then he smelled tobacco.

“Want a cig’?” Toji asked, holding up a pack. Sukuna took one, then leaned over and let Toji light it in his mouth. He got a good look at him, he was a bit leaner, he had black hair that covered his neck, ears and eyes. His striking green pupils peaked through his locks, and they stared right back at him. When the cigarette was lit, Sukuna laid back down on his bed.

A few more seconds pass before Toji speaks again. “Can’t say thank you? You brolic bitch.”

It gets a chuckle out of Sukuna, which surprises him. “…Thanks. Feel better, pussy?” Toji cackles and Sukuna thinks this might not be so bad.

Toji wasn’t talkative per se, but he never hesitated to start a conversation. He always had cigarettes, cards, or noodles, and it wasn’t unusual for him to have a honeybun or two. Sukuna found out Toji was a rich little shit who was in and out of jail as if she was a beautiful woman. He was out in a couple of months, but not before he established exactly what he wanted out of Sukuna.

Maybe Sukuna didn’t think he was bad because he never really forced anything out of him. Toji was willing to please, willing to share anything and everything about him, and he could suck a dick like a vacuum. The first night they’d ever done anything, the guards had already made their rounds, not to return til morning. Toji had climbed up to Sukuna’s bunk while they were talking. Toji and Sukuna talked a lot, about everything. Toji talked about how he was the black sheep of the family, he was a fuck up, a piece of shit. As if the rest of the family wasn’t terrible as well. Like Sukuna, his father beat him, and like Sukuna, his mother loved his brother more. Jinichi was older, unlike Yuji, and instead of hating and being disappointed in him, he bullied and teased the living shit out of him. Jinichi was the cause of many of Toji’s scars, but not the one on his lip, from his father backhanding him across the face with his rings when he was five. There were still faded scars on his cheek, but his lip had busted open.

Sukuna had met traumatized people before. But what he hated about them was that they never fucking got over it. Toji didn't seem to give a single shit about anything that’s ever happened to him. He spoke about his past as if he was reciting a history textbook. Matter-of-factly, no emotion, just sharing information. He liked it. He hated pity, he hated feeling sorry, he hated being sad.

Toji made his dick hard, and he didn’t try to hide it when the man crossed his arms over his mattress and leaned his head on it. He smiled at him and Sukuna’s dick jumped in his shorts. Toji didn’t even look before he reached his hand over and rubbed his erection. Sukuna didn’t break eye contact as Toji jerked him off through his clothes. His grunts became heavier and breathier, and when he finally had enough he grabbed Toji’s wrist and pulled his shorts down. His dick flew back up and hit his stomach, and he wrapped Toji’s hand around it.

Toji climbed on top of him and licked his dick. His warm, wet tongue crawled from his base to his tip where Toji wrapped his mouth around it and suckled on it. Sukuna’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he moaned. “Bitches can’t suck dick this good, can they?” Sukuna laughed, then he came.

The second time Toji got what he wanted was 5 months later, after he’d found himself back in prison. He was right, he was out in just a couple months. He would be out soon again. Sukuna thought he was a crazy son of a bitch. Toji thought it was funny. If his family wanted to hate him he would give them a reason. Sukuna agreed.

Toji said he could get Sukuna a crazy good lawyer, one better than the shit public defender he had to deal with. He could appeal his case, get it reopened, and get him off on probation. “Then we'd be doing this more, as much as we want, as loud as we want, on whatever fucking drugs we want.”

“On probation? You fucking idiot.”

“..sober now, ain't you?” Not by choice.

Sukuna nodded. Toji was taller than him, not by that much, but enough for him to have to lean down to be centimeters away from his face. “So you're gonna get out, and every time you piss you do it in a cup. Then we’re getting high and I’m fucking the shit out of you.” Toji had tried to kiss his cheek, but Sukuna jerked his head away and glared at him. Toji didn’t like that. He grabbed the back of his head and wrestled him to the floor of their cell then sat on top of him with his knee on his head. “You gonna give me a kiss now? Huh, baby?”

Sukuna fought him off and pinned him to the ground instead. Toji smiled crazily up at him, egging him on to do something. Sukuna’s glare deepened. “Fuck you and fuck your lawyer, pussy.” Then he spat on his face.

Toji laughed, exerting a sigh that sounded anything between a moan and a gasp of disbelief. His eyes had shot open wide in surprise, then relaxed in amusement and something that vaguely seemed like pleasure. Whatever the look was, Sukuna didn’t get off of him just yet.

Whether Sukuna liked it or not, he got a lawyer, a suit, and a retrial. He got the probation Toji spoke of and on house arrest, the only problem was, he had no address. There was only one place he could go, he found it before he got arrested, before he was homeless, and before he killed that girl.

Yuji was a big kid now, in college studying Psychology, go figure. His mother didn’t say much else about his personal life, she'd wanted him out of the house, clearly having accepted that she only had one son. There were a few new picture frames in the living room; Yuji's graduation, a couple birthdays, their grandmother's funeral, and all of them featured his friends, the same little shits that took the mantle of protecting Yuji when Sukuna no longer cared for it, and when it no longer became enough for Yuji.

He sent a letter with a receiving address. He wasn’t surprised when Yuji sent a scathing letter back, detailing how much he hates him, and ensuring that Sukuna never even thinks about rekindling any relationship they may have had in their youth. Sukuna didn’t really care, but now he definitely was homeless. Toji didn’t even think twice before offering his own apartment.

To keep him even closer, Toji hired him as his “fix it” man. Sukuna clearly had a type; Toji was a dealer, a much bigger one than the pathetic down the block shit Sukuna and his old friends had done. The Zenins had reach across multiple states and owned many business ventures to hide it all. Sukuna would be the one who killed their rivals, rats, or anyone who they felt disrespected them.

“You like to kill people, don’t you?” He’d asked. An interesting way to start pillow talk. It was weeks after he’d gotten out, the middle of the night, this time in a comfy Cali king bed smoking weed, not tobacco. They were naked, Toji’s dick was still hard after pumping cum inside of Sukuna.

It wasn’t that he liked to kill people, he’d never thought twice about shooting someone dead, but he loved the thought that their lives were in his hands. He loved having that power over someone, and he’d spent a long time wishing he had held out just a bit longer. Loosened his grip a bit so he could make her beg for her life even more.

Whatever, he nodded his head and Toji told him of his proposal, jerking him off when he decided Sukuna was thinking about it too long and needed a motivator. Seeing Toji’s mouth fill up with his dick and his face coated in white was more than enough of a motivator.

Toji and Sukuna have been friends for a long time, and any new endeavor Sukuna was involved in, Toji was his right hand man and vice versa. This had to be his favorite by far .

Earlier in the day, he had come over to the apartment to collect his video camera. From the way Sukuna described it, Toji would be cumming in his hands soon enough. He couldn’t wait to see how Sukuna fucked her, she was too fucking cute. He could only imagine what she looked like when she was horny, desperate to cum on someone’s dick or tongue.

Sukuna greeted him at the door, “Hey, it’s in the room. You staying?”

Unfortunately Toji wasn't, although he would have liked to. “Nah, I got Megumi. I told you that dick head.” He walked inside and looked around. He would have explored with Sukuna last night, but his son couldn’t be alone for too long.

Sukuna tilted his head at him, disgruntled. “What the fuck, I thought we were going out tonight?”

“We are. I'm giving him back to his mom. Then I’ll come over. Does that work for you, my darling?" Sukuna hits his chest and walks away. After walking around the kitchen and the dining room, Toji looked into the archway that led to the living room and saw legs laying down on the couch with a blanket haphazardly covering them. Toji comically rubbed his hands. “There she is. The lady of the hour.”

She was laying on the couch in a daze, Sukuna had been feeding her nonstop alcohol and weed, while murmuring about wishing she had stronger drugs. He complained about not being able to leave because he couldn’t trust her by herself, and considered knocking her out. The debate he had with himself was nerve wracking and terrifying, as if he were discussing a game plan. He almost reached a conclusion when Toji came knocking.

Though she was too incapacitated to react, Toji coming had made her heart drop. As if things couldn’t get any worse. He had a snake-like grin, his narrow green eyes stabbing her in her chest, a harbinger of a fate worse than death. Even as he taunted her, she couldn’t say anything. Her head was heavy from the drugs and she was frozen in fear.

When he started walking towards her with that same smile, she found the strength to squirm for a bit, and her head pounded in pain from the movement. Sukuna grabbed his shirt and pulled him backwards, and Toji ripped himself free of his grasp before glaring at him. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“You’re here for the tape, not her.” And for a moment, her heart swelled with hope, thinking maybe, just maybe, in a sick way, this man cared about her. That the only danger she had to be afraid of was him. ‘Please’ , she thought, ‘let it just be him’ .

Toji smirked and pushed his hair out his eyes. “For now, yeah.”

Sukuna didn’t answer, instead he rolled his eyes and left the living room, probably to fetch the device in question. She was less confident about Sukuna protecting her from his friend, and eventually a feeling of shame creeped its way in there as well. Sukuna didn’t care about her, she knew that. She doesn’t know if she’s going to die, but she does know things would never be the same. If only she could get to a phone, get a couple minutes of privacy. All she needed was 2 minutes and for Sukuna to be out of earshot.

Toji’s presence didn’t give her any space to think. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her, he was leaning against the wall, smirking with his hands in his pockets. “Hey gorgeous. Ya' had fun last night?”

He looked down the hall, then once he saw Sukuna was still occupied, he got up from the wall and walked towards her on the couch. Taking one hand out of his pocket, he started playfully tugging at the blanket. She had just enough strength to grab it and tug back, though she was weak.

He chuckled. “That’s cute. You’re so fucking cute. You know who I am?” He let her tug a bit more before yanking it out of her hands, leaving her cold and half naked. Sukuna had only let her put on underwear, laced and pink with a tiny bow at the front. “My name’s Toji.”

He dropped the blanket and rubbed his chin as he ogled her on the couch. She looked up at him, a scared little lamb covering her breasts and pulling her legs to her chest. She was shivering.

He tilted his head and pouted at her. “Aw,” he said with pity. He put both hands behind his back and stood up straight. Then, clearing his throat, he leaned over and stuck his hand out in front of her. “It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

She stared at him, her face slowly unraveling in disbelief and fear. She said nothing, and soon, Toji dropped his hand and put both back in his pocket. He leisurely strolled away to look back down the hallway, checking for Sukuna. Instead, he heard muffled cursing from behind the door. Whatever he was doing, he was occupied.

Toji turned and smiled at her, quickly approaching the couch and kneeling down in front of her face. She started panting and her eyes welled with tears. “You know, it’s gonna be my turn soon. Real soon.” he says quietly.

He looked her body up and down as she silently cried, then slapped her tit. She still didn’t make a sound, just quiet sobs and sighs. Her face remained stoic, or she’d have completely broken down.

“Hmph,” Toji stood back up and headed down the hallway. “The fuck is taking you so long?”

“I can’t get the fucking tape out,” Sukuna replied dumbly.

Toji rubbed his hands down his face. “It’s my vid cam. Just give it to me.” He opened the door and snatched it from his hands.

“Ay,” Sukuna said, getting up from the bed and walking after him. “What were you saying to her out there?”

“Just joshing around, Jesus. All on my dick, for what?” Toji kept walking away, looking over at the couch. She had grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around herself, turning over and planting her face in the cushion. Toji laughed and shook his head, she wouldn’t be able to avoid him for long. Her rejection would only make tonight even more special. "Be easy," he says towards her. He left without another word or look.

Any sense of relief she felt from Toji’s absence was quickly squashed when Sukuna sat down on the couch next to her curled up body and leaned backwards with his arms laying across the cushions. He looked over at her. “You alive in there?” He asked, snapping his fingers next to her face. She turns her head to look at him.

Sukuna smiles. “There you are. You look like you could use some water.” Her lips were dry and cracked despite her being a sweaty mess, and her eyes were bloodshot. She looked like she needed an IV.

“Here, don’t even worry, I’ll get some for you.” And Sukuna got up and sifted through her pantry to find a bottle to give to her. She doesn’t take it at first, eying him suspiciously, but he smacks his teeth and throws it onto her instead. “Just fucking drink it.”

He sat down and turned on the tv, changing the channel until he hit South Park , then grabbed the rolling tray once more. She took him on his offer and gulped the entire bottle down; she had no other drinks besides liquor since last night. The water poured down her neck as she drank and even up her nose, but she didn’t stop until it was empty. “Damn woman,” Sukuna glared at her. “It’s not going nowhere.”

When the bottle was empty she threw it on the floor and coughed. Her head pounded and her entire world started spinning. Then, her chest began to curl and she ran to the bathroom and threw everything up. Sukuna's laughter resonated through the walls and attacked her ears as her head hung inside the toilet.

When she’d woken up in her bed after passing out on the bathroom floor, she’d felt a stinging agonizing pain in her abdomen and she squirmed and groaned in the blanket. For a moment, she could have believed it was all a bad dream, until Sukuna walked into her room with a slice of pizza and a bottle of water. “You sleep a lot, huh?” Of course he knew, he’d been watching her for weeks.

One look at the pizza and a whiff of the tangy pepperoni made her lurch and gag. She shook her head, she couldn’t imagine eating something right then.

Sukuna rolled his eyes at her and sat the food down in front of her anyway. “I don’t have to feed you, you know,” he reminds her. He kneeled on the bed and grabbed her, muttering for her to ‘fucking relax’ when she started wrestling against him. He sat her up and laid her torso on her bed frame, shoving the plate into her hands. “I didn’t have to make you breakfast this morning, but I did.” Then, in a horrifying change of tone, his snarl turned into a little smile, and Sukuna gently played with her hair. “Because that’s what a good boyfriend does,” he said almost cheerfully.

She really didn’t want to eat the pizza, she knows she’ll throw it back up.

When she remained silent, Sukuna sighed disappointedly and crawled off of her. He stood up to walk away, then stopped and turned to look at her when he got to the door. “You ran out so I got you more grass from my place,” he starts, casual as ever. “And uh, get ready because you’re going to work with us tonight. Toji’s coming but he’s not gonna wait long if you’re not ready.” He pauses and scratches his chin, trying to remember what else he needed to tell her, amused by the dead-eyed stare she gave him. “Oh,” he leans back into the room and points to her closet. “I took a look in there, there’s this tiny black dress you got, the one with the…uh-the hal-halter neck? Is that what it’s called?” He motions on his own chest and waits for her to confirm, then continues when she doesn’t. “It’s like, draped a bit, and it has a low back.” Sukuna whistles at the memory of watching her try that dress on. “ Whew, you looked good in that dress. Oh and it’s sheer, your ass and tits are fucking sight. Anyway, I couldn’t find it in your closet. Where is it?”

She still said nothing, just looked at him while eating the pizza. Sukuna rolls his eyes and throws his head back in annoyance. “Listen honey,” he says, walking back inside and closing the door. “I want to be nice to you. I really do, but I won’t if you don’t want to talk to me. This could be good for you. I’ll take care of you, of everything you need, I’ll give you anything you want, but you gotta be my cute little wife first, okay?”

A few more silent moments pass, and Sukuna’s patience begins to wear thin. He didn’t want to have to kill her, she was more than gorgeous, she filled him with desire he hadn’t felt in years. She finally spoke before he did, her voice dry and frail, strained with grief, “Anything I want?”

“…Anything.”

She thought for a moment looking down into her lap. “…Let me go?” She asked hesitantly. She slowly lifted her head back up, Sukuna’s face remained stoic, she couldn’t measure what he was thinking. “Let me leave, like I wanted. I won’t say anything. I swear, just let me go.” Her voice started to shake, because Sukuna still hadn’t moved or said anything, but she could hear his breathing get deeper and faster, and she remembered that she was more afraid than she’d let on. She started to pant and choked on a sob before letting out a desperate, “Please.”

Sukuna took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then, he smiled again. Her heart dropped.

He approaches her one more time, leaning over and putting his hands on his knees before slapping her across the face. She yelps and he wraps his hand around her mouth as she cries. “You know better than to ask me that.” He lets go and backs up. “I won’t say it again. You already said you were mine, so you’re mine -“

Before he can really finish speaking, she gains a burst of courage fueled by rage and shouts at him, “You made me say it!”

“Shut the hell up.” Sukuna says, his eyes white with fury.

“No! I fucking hate you!”

“I said shut the hell up!” He grabs her by the throat and throttles her. “You’re not leaving me!”

When she starts to gag, he throws her back against the bed and stands up. His breaths deep and jagged, he was steaming, furious that she would even dare to fight back against him. She continued to give him a deadly sneer, it was sharp and filled with hate, and it cut right through him and embedded itself in his black heart. He wouldn’t let her slip away, not in life or death, and as he grew more and more upset with her and the way she looked at him, he found himself doing something he’d never done before. “Don’t you understand? Don’t you understand why I want you?”

She didn’t stop glaring at him. At this point, she didn’t think she cared, but then he continued. “I’ve been looking for you my whole life.” Her face, heart, and stomach drop and her world crashes down along with them. It’s just him and her in a vast, empty space. It’s cold. Sukuna’s face changes to a ghost from her past, a face that still strikes fear into her heart.

Sukuna lunges at her and holds her face in his hands. She gasps, afraid of what he might try to do. “You make me feel… alive. When I look at you, my heart feels like it’s going to stop.” It’s with these words that she finally gives up and falls apart, and Sukuna feels a rush of excitement at his success of breaking her. “I dreamt about you, I thought about you day and night, I smelled you at the store and brushed on your clothes, and I thought I would die walking away from you. God I wanted to see you again.”

Her ex had gone on a crazy tangent similar to this as well, going on and on about how he had nothing and no one, that she was all he needed, and how he would kill himself if she’d ever left.

“But you didn’t want to see me. You got blinds, you ran away from me, so I had to make you see the mistake you were making. I needed you to see how much you meant to me.” Like Sukuna, he blamed her for her trauma, for the things he put her through. He would bring her around his sleazy friends, make her drink and smoke and do lines at parties when all she wanted was to be home, then blame her when his friends got too handsy and she was too weak to push them away. Scream at her for being a cheating whore, when he’s the one who left her alone in the room with all the rest of them.

He stroked her hair again and put her head in his chest. She didn’t fight him. “Do you understand now?”

She nodded.

“Will you tell me where the dress is?”

“…the hamper.”

“Hm, that sucks. Think you can run it through a cycle while you get real pretty the way you do?”

“…yes.”

Sukuna nodded contently and kissed her forehead before standing up from the bed and finally going to leave the room. "I'm going in the shower, come in when the dress is in the wash." Then he leaves. She blinks, then quickly looks to the side of her bed. The phone had been ripped out of the wall.

Once again, defeated, she plops back down on the pillow, gazing at the wall. Soon, her body moves on it's own to reach into the hamper and grab the black fabric. She doesn't protest as her legs turn and exit the room. Her eyes look down the darkened hallway. The only light coming from the closed bathroom. The sound of cartoons on the tv, and the water from the shower. She scrunches the dress up tightly, so tight it squeezes her veins and her hand turns purple. She continues to hauntingly saunter down the hall to her laundry room. misty-eyed and tired, she drops the dress in, turns to the quickest cycle, then turns to the door and steps out. She freezes, her eyes staring at the bathroom door. What is she doing but delaying the inevitable?

From the shower, Sukuna hears her starting the laundry and he laughs to himself. It takes her a few minutes, but she eventually opens the door and walks into the bathroom. Sukuna listened to her take off her underwear, then counts each footstep she takes towards the shower. Too many.

She couldn't help but to stay away from him for as long as possible. She knew she fucked up when Sukuna threw open the curtain and pulled her into the hot shower. She gasped but quickly stopped when he forced their naked bodies together. His hair was wet and laid across his face in heavy strands. His large arms and hands roamed every single crevice of her body. Her arms were forced around his shoulders as well as her head on his right. He buried his in her neck, kissing, licking, and biting at it. She hadn't even realized he'd lifted her legs around his waist until his dick rubbed against her clit, too dazed by his attack on her neck.

She let herself moan, tired of being beaten and forced against her will. She let herself enjoy it, because what choice did she have? She wanted to live, it's all she's ever wanted. Maybe she felt like she was giving up before, but not anymore. The shame and misery can come later, when she's free.

"Mm,"  Sukuna muttered into her skin. his voice vibrated through her chest  "See? Doesn't this feel amazing?" He kissed her on the cheek, then nibbled it, and she turned her head and looked into his eyes. He was   handsome, but scary. He scanned her face, curious to what she was thinking. Then she kisses him.

Sukuna walks forward and pushes her against the cold, tiled wall. They bite each other's lips and suck on each other's tongues, their desire for each other growing and growing. Sukuna pulled away and they caught their breaths, and she admitted that she enjoyed it, but when she looks at him too long she sees him looking at her through his window, then him slamming her door shut and-

"Don't. Do do it. Not right now." Sukuna's lips had turned into a deep scowl, and his eyes were filled with malice. He'd seen the way her mind had started twisting, her brows turned upwards slowly, and her nostrils flared as her eyes started to gleam. He was only making it worse, but she tried so hard to stay calm. She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddered breath. Sukuna waited and took a breath of his own. When she opened her eyes again, they were red and he knew her wet lashes weren't from the shower. They look at each other for a few moments, then he tells her  "Stick out your tongue."

She gulped, then did what he asked of her. Sukuna drools onto it, then closes his eyes and leans over to make out with it, sucking it into his mouth. He moans as he pulls and tugs, their spit leaking between their chests that were pressed against one another. She began rubbing her hips on his boner, making him groan

"You ready?"  he asks, as if he cared if she wasn't. He grabs his dick and rubs his pre-cum all over his shaft, spitting on it for good measure. He rubs his tip between her fluttering lips, laughing at her small whimpers.  "So needy, baby,"  He says, slowly sinking into her pussy  "So, so needy."

"A-Ah,"  she whispers, biting her tongue as he spreads her with his thick girth. Her eyes were screwed shut, her pussy squeezing him with every inch.

"Come on, let me hear you."  He buries himself into her fully, his face inches from her open mouth. He squeezed his lips as he kept pumping her, nostrils flaring with each huff, making sure his dick hit all her walls. Her throat had shut in ecstasy and pain, and she let the tears flow, but she wasn't sad. "Yeah, you fucking love this. Come on, say something for me. It feels good, don't it?"

She finally sighed with a groan and nodded her head. Sukuna laughed at her, kissed her cheek, then planted his own on it as he began fucking her against the shower wall. He grunted with every thrust, her gasps and whines fueling his desire for her.

"Oh, Sukuna,"  she lets out. She feels his smile on her ear, accompanied by his hot breaths, then his tongue as he sucks on her lobe.

"Yeah, say my name. Keep squeezing my dick, baby."  His voice became strained and he started breathing harder, her pussy kept fluttering as she orgasmed, his dick sliding in and out of her with ease. He looked between them and moaned at the white ring around his shaft. And to his surprise, he gave her a final few thrusts, hen came deep inside her. The two of them panted as he stared at their hips, one hand against the wall and the other holding him up.

Sukuna eventually looks at up her, stares at her lips, then kisses them. He puts her down and hands her sponges and soap. "Don't talk about it." he tells her. She nods, but she doesn't really understand what he meant.

This reality was already a nightmare, but this is something she’s been through before. She never imagined she would be here again, crossfaded and head hanging, fighting to stay conscious despite wanting to pass away. Her head pounds with terrible music, and she’s squashed between men she hates while the purple lights and colorful lasers of the club dance in her eyes.

At her apartment, he'd told her to wear underwear he could see, so she chose a white thong. He was smoking when she walked out, completely finished and ready to go. Just in time for Toji to pull up on the sidewalk. He grinned and ashed the blunt before handing it to her. "And make sure you take a few shots," he says. "Don't worry, there's better drugs at the club." He held his hands out and waited for her to take it, which she did. "Thought you'd start to cry again," he joked.

Right before they exited the door, he turned and leaned down next to her ear. "You're gonna follow me to Toji's car like a good girl. If you scream, cry, or try to run, I'll just grab you anyway. Then I'll throw you in his car and break your neck."  Duly noted.

Toji looked over at them approaching him from the driver's seat of his black convertible. He whistled in delight. "Damn. You weren't lying," he says to Sukuna.

"Of course I wasn't"

Sukuna motioned for her to get in the back of the car, before Toji protested. "Wait, nah, let her sit next to me." He smiled at her and pat the seat next to him. "Come here, girl. I don't bite. Not as hard as he did, anyway."

"Why should I let her sit next to you?" Sukuna planted his hand down on Toji's arm. The mood shifted as his face began to fall. "Why don't I just bring in the back seat with me?"

Toji looked at her, standing to the side waiting for the men to make a decision already. She wasn't running, she wasn't sneaking away, she wasn't even looking around for someone to save her. "What about you? Who would you rather sit next to?"

It took a moment for her to notice she was being asked a question. She looked at the two of them, blinking. "I'd rather have a bullet in my brain."

Toji busted out laughing from her hubris, while Sukuna rolled his eyes at her. "Here she fucking goes. Just sit next to him. I'm not trying to hear that shit."

Toji didn’t say much to her, at least not anything that didn’t consist of him lusting over her. "You clean up  real nice, sweetheart." When she remained silent, he put his hand on her thigh and squeezed it. "Hey, can't say thank you? Don't like compliments?"

"...Thank you."

"Just drive, you fat fuck," Sukuna moaned from the backseat.

Toji smacked his teeth but drove off anyway. "Fat? Who you calling fat? Hey, sweetheart," he calls to the woman next to him, "You think I'm fat?"

"Of course she does. You flabby piece of shit."

"Come on, baby. Don't you like me? I like you."

Neither men explained what they were doing or why she was here with them, or what she needed to be doing to keep Sukuna happy. She picked up on bits and pieces of their conversation like wire it when the job’s done and last time took a month. Something about the job taking longer because someone left off an anonymous tip that their lives were in danger. She hadn’t been living in the city long and was still getting used to municipalities and the local government, but she remembered the name from a news story a couple weeks ago about the death of a DEA officer. She sunk a bit more into the seat.

Now here she was, sitting between the both of them at a booth in a humid club, men she’s never seen before ogling her. She’s very used to this, but for a moment, she thought she’d escaped this life.

Toji’s arm lays across the cushion behind her head and he leans down to murmur in her ear. “So, what the fuck did Sukuna say to you to get you to do this? You’re being a very good girl.” He starts to touch her hair too. “You’ve been a good girl all night. My client’s very happy.”

He gestures to the strange man sitting across from them smoking a cigar. She truthfully had no clue who he was or what they were all doing here, and though that terrifies her, she knows the truth is much worse. “You should smile at him. And stop looking so depressed.” He drops his hand down her back, she jumps from the cold of his fingers that tapped against her skin as he reached inside her dress. She sits up straight. “The girls are always depressed. They’ll like it if you’re happy.”

She does what she’s asked. Toji was right, the strange men were very pleased. Sukuna, finally looking over at her, smirks when he sees her very convincing smile. Then, his eyes trail upwards and he watches Toji look her up and down and bite his lip. Then, his eyes trail down his arm and catch his fingers inside her dress. His smirk drops just a bit.

“That’s right, so obedient,” Toji whispers in her ear, his hot breath tickling her and making her shudder. He chuckles again, admiring her face. “So, what did he say?”

Sukuna couldn’t hear what Toji started asking her, and he didn’t try no matter how much he wanted to. Not even when she turned back to him and responded.

“What do you mean?”

“Sukuna. You got all dressed up and came here without a fight, or even a word. Why?” He wondered. He wouldn’t get an answer, she didn’t really know either. “Did he say some shit about his childhood? Or his terrible fucking life? Or did he tell you you were the only one for him?”

She thought she would cry, but she couldn't find the tears for it. So, her lips spread into a dazed grin and she laughs. “Something like that, yeah.”

Toji, pleased by her cooperation, cackles loudly. He claps his hands a few times, and makes sure to meet Sukuna’s glare before talking to her again. “You believe him?”

“I don’t know. I guess I do.” She decided it’s easier to pretend.

Toji gingerly shakes his head. Bless your heart he says with his eyes. But with his lips, “You know he’ll fucking kill you one day, right?”

All she could do was laugh at that too. “Maybe.”

lmk what u think! Thx for reading!

[ourslutfactory]

Electrified

[tojisbbygworl]

I raise you…Toji’s girlfriend fucking Megumi and becoming his girlfriend when Toji ends things with her 👀

I have a love hate relationship with Toji stealing Megumi's girlfriend fics

Like he doesn't deserve to be cheated on there's no reason :'(((

But Megumi stealing Toji's girlfriend????

I'm there

Cheat on that scumbag

[charliemwrites]

Unfamiliar Nobody

You are a witch preparing for winter. Luckily, you have an extra set of hands - if they'd ever help.

Content: Possessive behavior, Semi-Safe/Semi-Sane/Consensual Intimacy, implied (pseudo) cannibalism, Violence and Death, Unhealthy but Happy Relationship

You haven’t been the same since the ritual.

Souls are tricky things, somewhere on that rickety fence between the Seen and Unseen, a bit of practical magic so common that people don’t think much of it.

Souls are like stones or plants. Abundant, but varied. Some are rare and precious, some are beautiful, some are poison. One soul does not weigh the same as another, and the beings that deal in their collection and sale value them differently. Souls aren’t rare and only some of them are powerful.

It’s a narcissistic misconception of humans - even the ones that can perceive beyond the physical world. That a soul is considered precious and coveted and powerful by all things of heaven, hell, and beyond.

Not so.

That said, like a bit of gold or a well-woven blanket, a soul can be commodified. Reshaped and displayed, butchered for parts, sold…

The selling of a soul has its merits, though not many. High risk, high reward sort of gamble. Tempting for clever witches - or desperate ones.

You were neither when you built the summoning circle that night.

You weren’t looking to forge any contracts or make deals beneath that moon. Didn’t expect to invoke any infernal beings or heavenly apparitions with the stars.

Well, best laid plans and all that - not that it had been an especially well laid plan anyway.

Baring your soul that deep into midnight had not yielded the results you intended. Or maybe it had and your expectations were just skewed. Souls are tricky things.

And yours hasn’t been the same since.

You always rouse as the sun begins to set. Late afternoon at the earliest, when most everyone else is finishing their suppers.

You can manage stark daylight, but poorly. It hurts your eyes and prickles your skin. A deep hood and long sleeves does the trick when required, but you don’t make a habit of it if you can help it, if only for the teeth that bury in your throat when you return.

Tend the garden in the dying rays, light the shop candles before night nestles in. Say your blessings, leave your offerings, wriggle out from beneath clingy weight to secure any provisions or materials from the town.

As the temperature cools and the shadows deepen, you settle into your work.

The shop once belonged to an apothecarist. Died in a plague some four decades ago, or so you’ve been told. No one of any skill or natural talent replaced them afterwards. Too frightened, perhaps, of what could be lingering within.

It wasn’t haunted until you (and your shadow) occupied it.

You’ve stocked it up quite nicely now. Herbs and spices, vegetables and fruits, roots and seeds. Thistles hang from the ceiling and bones rattle in the drawers. Mortars and pestles line a wall, weights and measures beneath the counter. Not a single thing labeled or organized, the latter of which disconcerts your… companion.

Fickle is not the word for him, but it’s the one you use.

(And he is a he, at least according to the long, thick cock he crams into you every chance he makes for himself. Though you suppose such trifles as gender are superfluous to nonhumans. A categorical fallacy for your own ease of reference.)

You told him once, that if he did not like the disarray of the shop, he was welcome to rearrange as he saw fit. In response, he left teeth rings around the base of each of your fingers, telling you how easy it would be to bite them off. He didn’t, of course - wouldn’t - but you spent a good portion of that evening updating the inventory logs (sat on that long, thick cock.)

The shop was never reorganized.

Tonight you wake to his tongue, a dark and wicked thing, improbably dexterous, lapping at your thighs.

“Winter comes,” he drawls into your skin. His voice is dredged up from the deepest pit in his chest, scrapes against his throat before nuzzling into your ears.

“I thought so,” you sigh, sleep laden and languorous. “Felt it on the wind yesterday.”

He hums. Or maybe it’s a growl. It’s hard to say when he’s sinking his teeth into the plush of your thigh, though he does it without hurry. 

For a creature without definite expiration, there is little need to be hasty.

You click your tongue when he threatens to break skin. His jaw locks like that, just on the verge of taking without being asked. This is his price for greeting the evening with you - or so he claims.

“We’ll have to begin preparations,” you muse to the inky ceiling. “I’ll make a list over tea. You’ll help, won’t you? What kind of winter will it be?”

He relaxes his bite, laps at the iridescent fluid left on your skin. His saliva, or what passes for it in this vaguely human form.

“Long,” he drawls. An unseen thumb rubs circles into your calf. “And frigid.”

You hum, can already see it in your mind. Howling winds and a silent earth. Still and peaceful, little creatures huddled down and hibernating. It was a good, warm, lush summer that promises a sweet, abundant harvest.

“A lot of snow?” you ask, fingers buried in something almost too coarse to be hair. 

He unseals his mouth from a fresh, livid mark on your hip. “Da. Snow.”

Your fingertips trail over the gnarled, raised topography of long-healed wounds. Marks that go beyond flesh, wounds of essence. No matter his appearance, he will always be scarred - disfigured, even.

Sometimes you fancy that he was some fearsome fae king or warlord of hell before retiring to become yours.

Sensing the direction of your thoughts, he nips at the meat of your thumb. Draws blood the time. You hook your index finger around a too-sharp canine and shake a bit. He grunts and slides his tongue over the pinprick of blood.

“Any storms?” you ask.

“Two,” he rumbles around your finger. “Maybe three.”

You didn’t used to love winter so. But this will be your third with him. As the climate chills and the nights lengthen, he comes into his patron season. It’s helpful to have a thing of the cold and dark when times are lean and everything (even people) lose their pretty foliage.

“Shall I expect more pelts, then?”

You balked the first time he brought (more) death to your door. Thought him cruel and ruthless. Perhaps he is without you to metamorphose the slaughter into necessity.

Furs for warmth, meat for food, bones for your work. Nothing gone to waste under your care.

“Pelts,” he agrees, “skins, down.”

You trace your thumb over the bridge of his crooked nose, press between his brows when he tries to tilt his head into the warm apex of your thighs. He bares his teeth against your wrist but cannot defy you.

“Tea for that drop of blood,” you bargain.

He sighs deep and vexed. “Mistress.”

Before slithering from your blankets, though, he buries his nose against your pubic mound and takes a deep, noisy inhale.

“Nikto!”

A village girl comes a little after the sun has fully set.

You finished your tea (and bread, for the price of a wet, filthy kiss) while making a list of preparatory chores. Have started grinding up rosemary to replenish your stock.

Nikto senses her before you do, pthalo eyes flicking up. She hesitates at the closed door, poised to knock, then decides against it and simply pushes in.

You pretend as if you’ve just glanced up from your mortar, an easy smile at your visitor.

“Good evening,” you call.

“E-evening,” she replies, lingering in the door.

While you’ve taken measures to keep the air of the shopfront clean and light, it’s something of a fruitless endeavor when Nikto’s made his den here. (Or more accurately, in the room behind the shopfront, where you dwell.)

Still, she only wavers another moment, finding nothing immediately alarming or perilous. She can’t see him lounging on the back counter like a lazy cat.

“Have you need of something?” you ask.

Your easy, friendly tone loosens her shoulders, coaxes her from the doorway.

“I’m here for something for my grandmother?” she says.

You tilt your head. “Anna?”

She blinks. “How did you know?”

Because Nikto grumbled it just now.

“You have her eyes,” you lie. “I have her medication just over here. One moment.”

You turn away to collect the little parcels that make up Anna’s bi-weekly order. Brews for her tea, ointment for her joints. You’ll mix extra as the chill sets in, fewer trips while seeing her through the harsh season.

“Usually Alexei comes to collect these things,” you say.

She rocks back and forth on her heels, a more curious eye trailing over your wares now.

“Mama and I have come to take care of nana. She’s getting older, you know. And this town has better prospects than our old village.”

You hum in agreement, neatly bundling all the items in a cloth and tieing a length of twine to secure it.

“Uncle Alexei is away with papa to finish sorting matters back there.”

“So you and your mother have come ahead, then,” you summarize.

“Mhmm!”

“Well, Anna is lucky to have you. She speaks fondly of you and your mother,” you say.

The girl lights up, cheeks rosy with pride. You slide her grandmother’s order across the counter.

“Anything else?” you ask.

“No, thank you!” she replies, dropping coins into your palm.

You glance at them (overpaid as usual, oh Anna) and sigh fondly.

“Hold on,” you call, “here.”

You pass her a little jar sealed in wax. She accepts it with a bemused smile.

“What is it?”

“For travel sores, when your father and Alexei return.”

She absolutely beams. Any apprehension she had when entering your shop is long melted away.

“Thank you, Miss!” she chirps, waving, and sweeps out the door.

Niko pounces in an instant, arms so tight around your waist that you don’t even stumble from the force.

“What’s gotten into you this time?” you ask.

“You were thinking of those men,” he grumbles. You’d call it childish if he wasn’t damn near mauling your neck.

“They’re well-paying customers,” you scoff, “and more good will is never remiss.”

He snarls, but moves on quickly. “You were so kind to that little girl. She had stars in her eyes.”

You hum in question, surprised.

“Makes me think of you with little ones. Younger ones.” He’s near rambling, drool soaking into the collar of your dress. “My brood. Clinging to your skirts and your hips. Getting sticky hands in the beeswax.”

You huff out a startled laugh. “You’re thinking of babies?”

He moans into your ear, pressed tight to your back. Broad palms knead at your lower abdomen.

“Little voices calling ‘mama’. They would all adore you, want to be just like you. Mother is god in the hearts of children.”

“All?” you repeat, twisting to stare owlishly. “How many is ‘all’?”

“As many as you will let me breed into you.”

Another laugh escapes you, a bit bewildered. He’s never spoken like this before, never seemed interested at all by the women (or their husbands) that come to the shop to ease their pregnancies or births.

“You couldn’t stand to share my attention,” you scoff. Which is to say nothing of it even being a possibility. You’re not sure that you and he could produce viable offspring.

He pauses, nose in your hair, considering.

Finally, he grunts, “Maybe.”

You’d thought so.

It’s not just the change in your natural sleep rhythms. You crave the iron of raw meat and inhale deep the burn of black smoke. Sometimes, you’re too preoccupied with the spill of ink on parchment, or the length and depth of shadows.

Subtle things, perhaps. A change beneath the skin, in the dark parts of your eyes.

You used to ask your questions in the sun, and look for the answers in the bloom of flowers or swirls of clouds. Now you whisper into abyssal shadows and they whisper back with a man’s rasp.

Not everyone can see it, the unusual glint in your eyes or the sharp edge to your smile. For those that do, it’s something of an open secret - that you provide more than helpful tonic and tinctures for common ailments.

A serum against pregnancy. A syrup for unkind spouses. Cut cords for bad friends and bent coins for poor business partners.

Tonight it’s the smith’s daughter. She’s just come into adulthood this past spring. A crown of youth on her brow, vitality draped around her shoulders. Darkened, this eve, by deals made with her as the currency. You see it beneath the sweep of her skirt, a chain of her father’s own making, a key in the hand of the mayor’s son. It drags her step in your doorway, rattling along the wood floors.

“Irina,” you greet.

She doesn’t admit it right away, demuring to purchase her father’s usual burn salve. You don’t pry, instead taking your time to spoon the thick, cloudy mixture into a small jar.

“You’ve…”

You tilt your head to show your attention, expression open. She clears her throat, smooths her skirt, tries again.

“My father designs to wed me to Boris.”

She blurts it like the words escaped between the gaps in her teeth, looks shocked in their wake You flick Nikto a reproachful glance.

“Is that so?” you reply mildly, as neutral as you can manage.

“I don’t want to,” she whispers, as though it is a shameful secret. But there is little shame to be found in your presence, and when your expression only reflects polite interest, she repeats herself, stronger. “I don’t want to. Boris is a coward and his father is…”

Mean. Lascivious. A bastard with a heavy hand and wine for blood, kind only to coin.

You don’t make her say it all aloud, you’ve heard it just fine.

“Is it an ear you’re after?” you ask. “I’ll listen.”

You do not offer more. It is something she must request of her own will. For your sake as much as hers.

It only takes another breath for her to gather the courage.

“Would you help me?”

“I would.”

You don’t jump as Nikto pours himself over your shoulders, teeth already scraping the nape of your neck. He’s hard and insistent against your spine, where scars of his teeth have begun to blossom. You sense that you’ll have a new notch for the collection soon, already feel slick and achy with the promise of his maw.

“What will it cost?” Irina asks, fidgety.

Your cunt three times over. Your blood on my tongue. Your juices down my throat.

“That will depend on our solution,” you say over Nikto’s sibilant entreaties.

Irina’s brow furrows. “Not coin?”

“Maybe coin,” you correct. “Do you want any of these three men dead?”

She startles, pales. Nikto groans in your ear, hips jerking hard, cock catching on the laces of your corset. Irina mistakes the sound for your shop settling, eyes flicking nervously around as if either of you will be caught.

“N-no!” she answers. “No, that’s too - I just want papa to change his mind. O-or for Boris to… to wed someone else. Is that wicked of me?”

You shake your head, soften your smile to ease her conscience. Once upon a time, you stood on the other side of the counter like she is now.

“Then coin won’t be necessary. I have a different price.”

Her shoulders lower, just a bit, curiosity where she should be wary. Coin is a paltry payment in comparison to things a creature like you could request instead. 

“What is it?”

“Scrap from your father’s forge, as much as you can manage, and whatever Boris gave you for your hand. Bring them to me tomorrow night.”

You fish a shirt button from beneath the counter. Prick your thumb on a needle and press the droplet of blood that wells into the smooth surface.

“This is a contract of my services,” you explain as it dries in the open air. Nikto inhales deep and ravenous, tongue flicking over the shell of your ear.

“If you take this, there is no going back. Do you understand?”

Irina hesitates; she’s always been a smart girl. That’s why she knew to come to you.

“What happens if I don’t come back with the payment?”

You flick a glance at Nikto, but he’s too busy toying with the ribbon around your throat. Patience fraying with each beat of your heart.

“Even I don’t know, but I’d rather neither of us find out, yes?”

“Alright. I understand.”

She accepts the bloodied button and drops it into the pocket of her frock.

“Tomorrow,” she promises, and steals out into the night.

Nikto bends you over the counter, heavy body flattening you to the polished wood. It’s unnaturally warm beneath your cheek. You suck in as much air as you can while he paws at the hidden parts in your skirts. He growls to find you wet and willing (always, regardless of what your mouth says) between your thighs. 

“Tithe,” he rasps, sinking to his knees.

Massive arms snake around your thighs as he finds his home between them. Buries his nose in the soft crop of curls so that his tongue and lips and teeth can partake in the sweet offerings below.

“All this for a severed tether?” you gasp, hips twitching in a bid to escape the too much, too fast, too good of it all.

His grip does not relent. On the contrary, it only tightens, dragging you down to smother himself in your cunt.

“Yes,” he hisses.

He takes and takes and takes. Sucks your clit until it’s throbbing at the slightest touch. Licks at the rim of your cunt, forcing his tongue deeper and deeper. Impossibly deep, until you feel the tip of it curl against the hard wall of your cervix, the root of it as thick as two of his fingers.

Your knees have long given out, your voice but a weak trill in your throat. It’s only when he hears you sniffling that he wrenches himself away.

“Give me,” he demands, surging up.

Laves that slick, black, inhuman tongue up your jaw, over your cheek. Doubles back to swipe at half-dried tears that dripped down your neck and onto your hands. He makes an obscene sound when the salt mixes with the dried blood on the pad of your thumb.

“I want to eat you,” he snarls, baring his teeth against the tender veins of your wrist.

“Maybe one day,” you pant, “when I’ve passed on. You can have my corpse.”

His eyes snap open, a manic rage burning so hot it feels cold. 

“Never,” he snarls, cruel fingers plunging into your tender cunt.

You cry out and grip onto his shoulders, fresh tears sliding down your hot cheeks. There is no mercy in Nikto, not even for you. He strokes and pets your walls relentlessly, abusing all the sensitive places he’s long mapped out. Brutal as the muscles in his arm bunch and jump with the pace and force of it.

“Never,” he repeats. Teeth in your throat but you can still hear his voice. It’s so loud and rough that glass rattles. “Just like this. You stay just like this for me. Mine, all mine. Always. My little witch.”

He makes you cum on his fingers, then jerks his angry cock using your release to ease the way. Spends himself in burning, sticky ropes directly onto your clit. As you drag in ragged breaths, he draws his sigil inside your cunt with your mixed fluids.

The bond has long been formed, there is no need to renew it. Your soul is no more or less his than before. You still shiver with the memory, an echo of the sublime sensation of your soul taking new shape. Making room for something else to lace through it.

“S-someone is coming,” you whimper, weak in every sense.

“Dmitiri,” Nikto answers. You knew who it was, of course, but you don’t think he would abide you saying any other name right now.

“Leave his order on the counter and make sure he pays,” you sigh, limping away in search of water.

Nikto may be a bastard, but he manages to follow your orders most of the time.

Irina returns the next evening with all that you asked. A bucket of metal scraps and shavings. In a little velvet pouch, a simple gold engagement ring.

“The button too,” you request.

Nikto, raven-shaped this evening, swoops in to snatch it from her fingers. She yelps, moon-eyed as he perches on a tall shelf and swallows the button down his scarred gullet.

“Should… should it eat that?” she asks.

You don’t even glance at him. “Too late now, isn’t it?”

She doesn’t look amused so you laugh softly and assure her, “He’ll be alright. He’s done it before.”

You turn away, scooping up the items for the spell.

“Now then, take this pin. Carve your name into one candle, and Boris’s name into the other,” you instruct.

“Which one is which?” she asks, a green candle in one hand.

“Your choice,” you reply simply.

When she’s done as you ask, you tie a piece of twine between the two, about halfway down. Set them on a metal plate facing each other and light first Irina’s, then Boris’s.

“Pull up that stool. Watch the candles burn down to the wick.”

It takes nearly an hour. You keep half an eye on it. Watch the candle meant to represent Boris start to eat at the twine, a slow encroachment towards the midpoint. Only for Irina’s flame to latch onto its end of the tie and scorch through the knot, the remaining length falling away.

Irina gasps softly, glances up to find you already watching. Studiously turns back to observe the remainder of the melt.

In the meantime, you continue forming the other half of your spell. Irina has been too preoccupied to notice the raven’s disappearance. Nikto is behind you again, guiding your hands to carve the woodblock in neat little peels. His fingers are threaded between yours, dripping raw power that you shape with intent. If Irina were to look, it would just seem that the candlelight casts strange shadows down your forearms.

When the candles have burned down to nothing, and Irina turns to you expectantly, you press a finger to your lips.

“Do not speak again until sunrise. When you get home, throw this into the hearth, as deep as you can get it. No trace of it will remain, rest assured.”

You press the carved wooden key into her palm. Her eyes trace the unfamiliar runes in wonder, but she keeps her silence and takes her leave with one final, grateful nod.

It is only just past midnight, but you yawn. The connection between Irina and Boris was not a strong one, but severing the covetous teeth of the mayor’s greed was tedious.

He has a weakness for fair hair and light eyes - both qualities passed down to Irina in lovely spades. Qualities his own wife doesn’t possess, but he would gladly see in his son’s if he had his way.

“Nikto.”

“All for a severed tether,” he purrs.

You tsk at him, shove his face away when he tries to steal a kiss.

“Finish the spell and then you will be rewarded,” you huff, waving him off. “Useless thing.”

He moans softly, eyes burning into you. “Useless,” he agrees, sharp teeth grazing your cheek. “Worthless.”

“Out with you. We’ve not all night,” you chastise.

He sinks slowly into the shadows; his eyes are the last to disappear.

Winter preparations are well under way.

A small mountain of firewood is steadily accumulating in the backyard, stacking higher and wider by the day. You’ve already finished harvesting the last of the garden, drying, preserving, and pickling by the jar. Have knitted half a dozen more shawls and socks with thick wool yarn.

Cough medicines, warming tinctures, lotions and ointments. You’re accumulating your winter remedies along the back wall and in crates beneath the counter, well-stocked for the town and smaller surrounding villages that frequent your shop.

Thus far, Nikto has brought you two pelts, and promised two more before the season truly sets in. A new pillow has also been added to your nest bed, a puffy, heavy thing of feathered down and cotton.

You like it so much that you bounce on Nikto’s cock until morning when he brings it to you, spitting into his mouth whenever he opens it in supplication. You drop lavender buds into the casing and breathe it deep as he lays you down after daybreak. It makes an excellent throne for your pelvis when you’re too worn (or over-pleasured) to hold yourself up any longer.

Still, as promising as your preparations are, you need items unavailable even in town. The journey to the nearest city is one day's (or night’s) walk there, and another back. Well worth the trouble.

Nikto has no particular affection for any dwelling, so long as it’s yours. He’s just as eager to travel as you are.

Before nightfall, you drop off any orders expected in your absence, and receive well wishes from your customers. No one asks why you are traveling alone at night. No one warns you that it would be too dangerous.

Nikto accompanies you along the well-trod road, a hooded figure more likely to be mistaken for the grim reaper than your familiar. He’s human enough if you don’t look at him for too long. A tall man thick with muscle, broad-shouldered, built for labor. Likely malformed beneath the scarf hiding his features below those blue eyes - or perhaps just shy.

Just don’t try to peer into the depths of that hood, or ponder that mysterious scarf for too long. The moon acts as a strange prism, waters down the light into eerie refractions. One might start to imagine sharp teeth peeking through ripped lips. Or glimpse poorly sewn hills of flesh, nothing but dark, empty space between the seams.

Luckily, there are no travelers on the road this late into the night. Any errant gaze is that of night creatures, and those know well to avoid the shadow at your side - and you by extension.

The trip into the city is no great adventure, but you weren’t looking for one. Nikto, you sense, is something almost like disappointed. You arrive in the small hours of the morning, just as the earliest risers have begun their day.

The innkeeper seems surprised by such an early (or late) guest, but is happy enough to welcome you in. Bread has yet to be bought from the baker, but there’s stew that’s been simmering overnight. It’s warm and hearty and thick. You eat two bowls with a cup of peach wine, pay for food and board for the next two days, and retire to the second story of rooms.

The bed is not nearly as comfortable as yours. The blankets are thin and woven, though they are layered enough to be warm. The mattress and pillow are both straw - comfortable by most standards, but a poor substitute for your cotton and wool and furs and down.

You make due on Nikto’s rumbling chest (prideful that you miss what he has so diligently provided) and let yourself drift into slumber.

At midday, you wake. City merchants aren’t accustomed to your odd hours, and you don’t want anything to be out of stock - you’re not the only one that’s made the journey for winter.

Luckily, it’s an overcast day and the sun isn’t too obnoxious when you venture out. You get a sweet bun from the bakery to tide your hunger while you shop. Follow Nikto’s whispering for directions, or to pick the best items of any selection. Spoil yourself a bit on honey from abroad and a new grimoire.

Return to the inn at the brightest part of the day for a nap. Rouse again in the late afternoon for more exploring and shopping, as well as a drink at one of the alehouses.

You’ve no friends in the city - or anywhere, really, for that matter. But being surrounded by good spirits and bright noise provides an unusual source of energy. There’s a band to watch and strong drink, some gambling that you amuse yourself meddling in from afar.

There are eyes on you, but there always are in such a busy place. You tend to attract very few gazes, but the ones you do will return time and time again, musing at the lone figure by the wall. None are brave enough to approach - especially not when it grows dark enough for Nikto to reveal himself.

Even he is in unusual form, telling you stories of a bygone time. A time when perhaps he was more finite than he is now. He uses names you’ve heard before, in passing, and chuckles at exploits more mortal than he deigns to participate in now. You like to hear it, like to provide him with the excess buzzing in your veins.

When the crowd begins to thin, you take your leave. He stays at your side (always too close, nearly underfoot) all the way to the inn, and is waiting in your room when you come up with the meal. He manhandles you into his lap and feeds you with his fingers, pours water into your mouth from his.

You stave him off until your food settles, and then he’s taking you into his lap. Has you twice before you doze off. Wakes you three hours later with his tongue lapping at your swollen folds. Has you twice more before you settle in properly until dawn.

The second day passes in much the same fashion as the first. Your indulgence this time is a pretty, slender knife, a length of ribbon, and a simple burgundy frock. The combination has Nikto salivating by the time you return to your room to rest. Not that there’s much to be had with you splayed out over your new garment, his hands and mouth and cock working you over until a puddle of slick and cum forms beneath your writhing bodies.

You send him to wash the stains in annoyance, and it’s returned seemingly pristine - though he gloats that the scent of your coupling remains. At least to him.

Nasty creature.

“If I get tired, you will be carrying me,” you huff on the road home.

He nuzzles his nose into your temple, a silent assurance that you need only say the word.

Halfway there, a band of highwaymen makes the fatal mistake of trying to ambush the two of you. Aware that anyone coming from the city will be laden with coins or goods, they would be correct if you were anyone else.

You click your tongue, steps never faltering.

“Kill anyone that’s taken an innocent,” you call over your shoulder.

“Mistress,” Nikto churrs into the air, breath so cold it sinks in the chilly air.

An unnatural growl reverberates off the trees. You don’t spare a glance behind you, steps easy and light, crunching over dead leaves and dry twigs.

A hand lands on your shoulder - heavy… and then not. Heat splatters and soaks into your sleeve, dripping down towards your wrist. The severed arm falls with a wet, fleshy thump.

Always so messy.

You tilt your head, veer off the road and follow your intuition until you find a stream. Humming, you shed your clothes and saunter into the gentle current. It’s frigid, only just unfrozen. You sigh, minding your step for slippery rocks as you wade deeper. The water rises past your scratched calves, over bitten thighs, soothes your well-used cunt and the bruises on your hips. Tingles over the silvery flesh of your scarred back until it’s nearly to your breasts.

Only then does the water darken around you.

Nikto’s hand closes around your wrist, draws your arm back until he can lick away the smears of a stranger’s blood.

Feast before the season’s famine.

You moan softly at the drag of his serpentine tongue along your skin. The ball of your shoulder, the curve of your tricep and bicep. Tickling the bend of your elbow… up your forearm… and wrist. Twisting between each digit. You lean into the sturdy pillar of his body until his other arm curls around your waist. You stand with him in the water like that, cradled by shadow and bathed in moonlight.

He is never hasty, but tonight he’s unusually slow. Almost lazy.

Wait, no. Not lazy. 

Deliberate.

Each flick of his tongue, scrape of teeth, brush of lips is applied with the same care and reverence afforded to an altar.

You tilt your head to rest against his shoulder, bare your throat. Peer through lidded eyes at the thick fingers twining with yours.

It’s as if he plunged his hands into a fireplace and didn’t care to dust away the charcoal and ash afterwards. It fades at the forearm into alabaster. In the crease of his elbow, it looks like he has ink for blood. You know from experience that it tastes of almonds and tannins, heavy on the tongue like thick wine.

You let him lay you down on the bank, dry and clean. He pampers you on his cock with slow, languid rolls of his hips. Grinds deep, pulls out only halfway to massage the head into that sweet spot over and over until you’re shuddering apart with a deep, heavy moan. He finishes on your stomach and thighs, drawing symbols into your skin before rubbing it in.

“Nikto,” you croon, thumb drawing a line down the left side of his face. From forehead, over his eye, down to the corner of his mouth where there’s an unnatural split. He lets you scrape your nail against the big canine, amusing yourself on the sharper bicuspid just beside it. “My Nikto.”

He purrs into your chest, drooling down your sternum.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks.

You smile, indulgent.

“I belong to Nobody.”

There is a possibility of a second part. Maybe. If that's something people want.

[i-collect-shiny-stuff]

22, unsorted