emotionalmessss

[emotionalmessss]

𓏸𓂃⊹₊ ﾟ⟡.⋆ ☁︎ ☀︎ ⏾ .⋆⟡ ﾟ₊⊹𓂃𓏸

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About the blog → this is a yandere and character x reader blog. You can expect various kinds of creative media and content posted on here. Some of these include, but are not limited to: headcanons, prompts, scenarios, oneshots, fanfics, alphabets, requests, my inputs on any thoughts, questions, or ideas you guys might have, and more—basically, whatever garbage my brain decides to cook up. 

While most of what I write and post is yandere-related, I’m not limited to just that—I like to branch out and create other kinds of content too. The only thing I’m picky about is character x reader—I don’t do character x character or OC x reader stuff. And sure, some of my content is borderline unhinged (and maybe a little depraved), but it’s not all like that, I swear.  

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Dark content →

NSFW & SFW

yandere

noncon & dubcon

death (suicide & self-harm is rare)

blood & gore

various forms of violence & abuse

unhealthy relationships

age gap

kidnapping

stalking

forced captivity/restraint

This is not an exhaustive list. All content will be appropriately marked, and include relevant tags and specific warnings. Please read them carefully! 

[emotionalmessss]

Plaything

A/N: sukuna one-shot after my small hiatus from writing. I'll be looking over my requests and changing up my rules a bit, but enjoy!

Synopsis: studying with Yuji doesn't go as planned when sukuna decides to make a surprise appearance.

Warnings: heavy non-con, humiliation, slight yandere, slight violence, all sorts of bodily fluids, angst I guess, forced, size difference, sukuna is an ass. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 6.7K

“Yuji!” I called out from the living room. “Yuji!” 

I fiddled with the pen that was tucked between my fingers as I waited for any sort of answer. I couldn’t think of a worse person to teach than Yuji. He could barely sit still for more than a few minutes before his mind wandered and he grew fidgety. I was previously enjoying my Friday afternoon at home, and alone, before Gojo called to inform me that my plans were going to change. 

Not that I entirely cared, I could use the company from- 

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a slam coming from the adjoined room of my apartment.

“Fuck.” I groaned and caught the pen in my palm, giving it a tight squeeze before glancing up at the doorway.   

“Get your ass out of the kitchen now!” I demanded, raising my voice since my previous call to him was ineffective. 

My legs folded awkwardly beneath my body as Yuji came rushing out of the doorway - a bag of chips and cookies tucked under his arms as he watched me with widened eyes. My eyes glided over his face with a look of disapproval, my lips pulled straight as he jumbled the contents in his hands. 

“Are you done raiding my pantry?” My lips shifted into a sarcastic smile. “Food can wait.” 

“Training was hard! Maki had us working overtime today.” He pouted as he began walking towards the couch. He dropped the cookies onto the table, but gripped the chips like he thought it was going to be his last meal. 

I reached down for the papers and shook them in his face. “That doesn’t mean you can slack off on your school work!” 

He flinched, his hands shooting up to block his head from my banter. “I can’t think on an empty stomach!” Yuji gave me a nervous smile, his eyes closing as he chuckled. 

I tossed the papers onto the table. “You can’t think regardless.” I poked playfully at him. 

“Hey!” Yuji pouted as he ripped open the bag of chips. I watched as he fished a handful out and shoved them into his mouth. Crumbs fell from his lips and onto his black slacks - I guess he changed back into his uniform after working with Maki and Panda.  

“It’s true.” I fully turned to look at him, adjusting myself on the couch. “Not all your learning can be done in the field.” I watched as he dug his hand into the bag again and leaned over towards the textbooks and papers in front of us. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He grumbled, his lips pulled back into a frown as he looked down at the work he fell behind on. He squinted for a moment before looking back up at me. “Oh! You know what would be great?” Yuji quipped, seemingly attempting at stalling. 

“What would that be?” Another heavy sigh came out. 

“Some tea! It could help us relax and -” 

I cut him off with a laugh, swatting the back of his head gently. “I’ll make some tea after we finish the first page.”

Yuji let out a small groan of annoyance, his mouth pulling down into a frown. I watched patiently as his head tilted down in acknowledgement. Another smile pulled at my lips as he situated himself on the couch, hunching over slightly as he read over the pages. I had met Yuji a few months back, along with Nobara and Megumi. We all got along well, and had frequent missions all together. But I grew closer to Yuji than I did with everyone else. His mannerisms were often like a child, always smiling and giddy. I found it difficult to remind myself that he is the vessel of a thousand year old curse that has a taste for blood and chaos. 

Ryoumen Sukuna. The King of Curses.   

I glanced over at Yuji slowly, watching as he worked through the readings and questions at a decent pace. He’d be faster if he didn’t second guess himself so much. He was smarter than he let on. He hadn’t even asked me for help yet - too stubborn to seek help from others. 

Yuji trained almost every day with Gojo and Maki, upping his strength and keeping Sukuna at bay. I was astonished at his drive to succeed and rid the world of curses. He seemed to be unfazed by the monster hidden deep within his subconscious. 

Megumi told me about the first time he met Sukuna, through Yuji’s body of course. He told me that he felt like he couldn’t even breathe, like all of the air was suddenly sucked out of the air by just being in his presence. His cursed energy was on a whole other level, even when he wasn’t in his true form. Megumi explained that it was one of the few times where he didn’t know what to do. Should he exercise the boy who impulsively consumed one of those wretched fingers? Should he call for help? Should he run? I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must’ve been like. I didn’t even want to. 

Thinking about it made my stomach churn and my mouth dry up-  

“Y/N?” I heard his voice call out. 

My vision came back into focus as I turned to glance at the salmon hair coloured boy. “Hm?” 

“You kinda zoned out there, are you okay?” 

Oh, nothing really. Just lost in thought about the blood thirsty curse hidden deep in your body that liked to come out at the worst of times. Nothing much, you know. I monologued to myself, keeping my expression blank. 

“I was just thinking of making us some tea now.” I forced a small smile and brushed a stray hair out of my eyes. I didn’t want to concern Yuji with my own paranoia, he faced enough of it from the Elders and everyone else that came into contact with him. 

He watched me, carefully studying my facial expressions to see if I was hiding anything. 

“I have this new one that I just bought, I think you’d like it.” I pushed myself up from the couch, not wanting to cause Yuji to worry more than he already did. I carried myself over to the doorway and paused for a moment to look back at him, “you’re doing great with your work. I was watching the entire time.” I flashed another smile, which caused Yuji’s expression to mirror my own from the praise. 

“Thanks, y/n.” 

I gave a small nod before disappearing into the kitchen. I needed a minute to myself, and couldn’t understand the sudden anxiety creeping up inside my subconscious. It’s not like I was in any danger being around him. I spent more time with Yuji than I did with anyone else, he almost spent more time at my apartment than his own dorm. 

Still, with all the reassurance that I engraved into my head, I couldn’t help but feel a gnawing anxiety in the back of my head. Christ, what was going on with me?  

As I waited for the tea to brew, I peeked into the living room. 

Yuji leaned over the table, pen in hand, and his free hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked through his readings and questions silently. He huffed slightly and I realized that he was probably stuck somewhere and that I would need to guide him. 

My attention focused back on the tea, which I now poured into two glass mugs. The liquid steamed and smelt wonderful. I balanced them both in my hands and made my way back over to the living room. Yuji still sat in the same position, frowning deeper. 

“Stuck?” I asked, placing down the mug beside him and plopping back onto the couch. 

“Yeah, I don’t understand this.” He pointed down. 

I leaned over beside him, pulling my skirt further down my legs as I did so. “Oh, that’s easy.” I began walking him through the readings and explaining the questions a little deeper. He seemed to be getting a hang of it pretty quickly. He was definitely smarter than he let on.      

“You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.” I muttered, sipping at my tea. 

Yuji turned to look at me, a small blush creeping up at his cheeks as he let out a nervous chuckle. “You’re just saying that. Besides, there’s no way that I could get this done without your help.” He reached for his mug, taking a small gulp before grimacing. 

“What is it?” I asked before it dawned on me. “Oh right. You like honey in your tea.” I jumped off the couch before he could say another word, rushing off to grab the jar from the cupboard. 

I reached up for the little jar that was tucked away behind the other cans and nonperishables. As soon as I grabbed it, my ears caught the noise of a small clattering coming from the other room. I dropped flat on my feet and glanced over in the same direction. 

“Yuji?” I called out, walking towards the noise. “Are you okay?” 

I peered around the corner slowly, sticking just my head out. “Yuji?” I looked over at the now empty couch. His papers and snacks were sprawled out everywhere and his cup of tea was knocked over, dripping onto the floor. 

My attention drifted over to the front door, which was still shut and locked from earlier. 

“Yuji, quit messing around.” I stood in the doorway now, my eyes searching for any sign of him. Was he trying to freak me out? He usually fooled around like this, but he was so engaged in his work; jumping out and scaring me seemed like it would be the last thing on his mind. 

My fingers tightened around the jar of honey, frowning as I saw the mess left behind. It almost looked like there was a - oh god. My legs started to move towards the front door, before I even had time to process everything. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but whatever this was, it was telling me to get the fuck out, and fast. 

The tips of my fingers grazed the cool metal of the handle, shaking heavily as I fumbled with the lock. 

My body froze completely when the sound of a throaty, deep chuckle reached my ears. Much to my dismay, my movements halted and I could no longer control my body. My back was turned away from the eerie sound, my heart trying to convince me that it was all in my head. 

Heavy footsteps followed when I made no attempt to react. The beating in my chest amplified, my hands loosening just enough for the jar that I still held to fall and shatter against the flooring beneath me. 

“Leaving so soon?” The deep voice asked, still sounding like they were behind me, only a few feet back

A small squeak slipped from my lips as I finally managed to gain control over my body. Although, I did not turn to face that ominous voice. Instead, I glanced down to the broken jar at my feet; the sticky honey pooled at my toes, pieces of glass reflected back up at me. 

My hand was still wrapped around the doorknob, debating on my options. Could I unlock the door, open it, and run down the hallway and outside before they reached me? Would I have time to scream for help? Would anyone actually come? My thoughts were running a million miles per second and I couldn’t keep up. 

Another laugh echoed behind me, this time it sounded amused. I twisted my head back to finally make eye contact, only to feel my last shred of hope disappear when I noticed who - no what, was behind me. 

A shaky breath fell from my lips as my eyes focused on His face. The black markings spread down from beneath Yuji’s bright eyes, reaching all the way to his chin. Another two marks stretched across his nose and on his forehead, solidifying my previous fears. While it was technically Yuji’s body, it didn’t really look like him anymore. He seemed to grow a foot taller, while his training outfit strained under new muscle mass. 

Sukuna. Fucking Sukuna.  

The expression on his face almost sent me into a panic attack. He watched me like a predator stalking its prey, head tilted ever so slightly while his lips pulled back into a smirk. He knew. He fucking knew. My pupils were blown wide as I gripped the handle tighter, attempting to use my thumb to unlock it as I maintained eye contact with the curse that adorned my best friend's face and body. 

The air in the room felt thick like glue, wrapping around my chest and choking me out. Was this what Megumi felt? Constricting and suffocating? 

Sukuna’s eyes moved from mine and floated down my body, lingering slightly on my chest and waist before shooting back up to read my expression. As much as I wanted to cringe at his prying eyes, I managed to keep a straight face. I wanted nothing more than to run down the hallway and find Gojo, but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. 

His wandering eyes caused a rush of heat to flow through me, unsettling my already flipped stomach. No. He couldn’t possibly-

Megumi’s stories lingered in the back of my head. He’s on a whole other level, Y/N. You can’t take him on yourself. If he ever switches with Yuji, you run and find Gojo or me. He would tell me whenever Yuji wasn’t around. I guess he didn’t want to make Yuji feel even worse than he already did, as he was the vessel. 

“Well?” Sukuna spoke again, the deepest of his voice startling me to jolt straighter. “Aren’t you going to run?” He sounded bored, almost like he was annoyed that I wasn’t reacting. I knew that he wanted me to react, whether it was to run, scream, cry, or beg him to switch back with Yuji.  

I swallowed hard. “No. That’s exactly what you want and I don’t want to give you the satisfaction.” I fully turned to face him, letting my hand drop from the handle. 

My body buzzed with adrenaline to escape, but I knew there was no way that I could outrun him. I had to play this smart. Yuji was almost certainly fighting for control, but he must be exhausted and weak from all of his training. It was going to take him longer. I just had to stall a little bit.  Despite the pep talk that I mentally gave myself, I still felt horrified. My breathing stunted unconsciously, restricting the access of air into my lungs. 

Sukuna’s arms crossed over his chest and he grinned, flashing me his unnaturally sharp canines. 

“Have it your way then.” 

Before I could fully process his words, he dove towards me. I gasped and leaped out of the doorway, narrowly escaping his sudden attack. Fuck. So much for stalling. I stumbled over my own feet as I threw myself over the back of the couch, landing on my unsteady feet. My body spun around in an instant, focused on keeping him within my sight. Sukuna watched me as I took a small step backwards, but remained on the other side of the couch. 

“Stay the fuck away from me.” I took another hesitant step back, eyes darting back to the door. No more stalling. Yuji wasn’t going to come back out for a while. It was time to get the fuck out of here and fast. I had limited options on where I could go. Getting to the front door meant that I would have to run by him, which certainly meant he would capture me. Running to my bedroom wasn’t smart either, as there was nothing to barricade myself in with. Instead, I focused on keeping the distance between our bodies.  

Sukuna’s eyes brightened when he watched me stumble back, enjoying the fear that he was pulling from me. It was sick. My every move was being studied by his crimson eyes, anticipating what I would do next. 

“You’re just as annoying as that brat.” He laughed, referring to Yuji. 

Once again, the unnerving sound of his laugh startled me into stepping backwards at a quicker pace. It was silly. I knew that retreating would not allow me an escape from the sickening sound of it. But I stepped away all the same, hoping that some distance from the Curse would grant me freedom. 

My eyes left him for only a moment, and when I looked back, he was out of my line of sight. I snapped my head from side to side, remaining on edge while I looked around the small room. Where did he go?! I bit down on my lip, and without thinking, I dove forward towards the front door again, only to be stopped. I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders and yank me backwards. Behind? How?!  

I expected to land on the ground, but my back hit something just as hard and knocked the wind out of my lungs all the same. I let out a sharp groan at the feeling, kicking and throwing my elbows back and in attempts to get free from his hold. My attacks did very little as his large hands moved from my shoulders and down to my waist. His grip was strong and sharp, digging into the soft flesh of my torso. 

“Let me go!” I trashed about, screaming and fighting furiously. 

I felt the rumble of his chest as he laughed, planting my back harder against his chest. The sudden movement surprised me, and I gasped before resuming my fight. He hummed in satisfaction, sending another wave of vibrations down my spine. 

“That’s the spirit, slut.” He growled, giving me another tight squeeze. 

I huffed, stalling my fighting. “What the fuck do you want?” My voice was low and hoarse. 

“Isn’t that a stupid question coming from a sorcerer?” He mocked, leering down towards me. His body was oddly warm, warmer than I ever thought it would be. 

I opened my mouth to respond but before I could, I felt my body being slung forward to the ground. My hands shot out and I let out another surprised cry, bracing myself for the hard fall. My knees and hands slammed against the ground, landing on all fours. Before I could stand up again, Sukuna’s foot planted on my back and pushed me onto my stomach. I let out a gasp of strangled air as I collided with the hard floor, Sukuna’s foot grinding me harder against the cool surface before retreating. 

I gritted my teeth in anger and flipped myself over clumsily. Sukuna glared down at me, his smug expression taunting me into fighting back. Instead, I started to crawl backwards, attempting to distance myself. He matched my movements and followed me backwards at a slowed pace, until he dropped over top of me. I screeched, half expecting his full weight to crush me, but he caught himself, hovering just above me. 

His red eyes focused down on mine, drinking up my quivering form. My heart felt like it was going to explode from anticipation, fearing his next movements. A sob of both fear and helplessness left my lungs as I watched those red eyes drift over my body. 

“Yuji…” I muttered softly, turning my head to the side. 

Sukuna must’ve heard me because he snorted, but chose not to respond to my helpless plea for Yuji to return. He had control in this situation, and there was no way that he was going to willingly switch back at this moment.   

The tears I fought back pooled at my lower lash line, slipping down the sides of my flushed cheeks as Sukuna gleaned over me, lowering himself closer to my face. I shut my eyes tightly and cringed back. This was it. I thought. He’s going to tear my throat out with his sharp teeth. I was going to die, choking and sputtering in my own blood. I braced myself for the pain, preparing myself for death that awaited me for open arms. Yuji…Nobara…Megumi…

I felt nothing but warmth. Was this death? My eyes snapped open when I realized that this feeling was not my blood seeping out of my throat; it was his tongue. My shriek of fear turned into disgust when I felt his tongue press flat against my jawline and lick up my cheek and over my eye. 

“Urgh… wha-” My cheek damp with his spit as I looked up at him. He wasn’t going to- no. He wouldn’t… No.    

His face retreated back from mine, a feral look of satisfaction painted across his features. My face twisted back up in disgust when I realized, causing him to chuckle. Before I could scramble away from his intentions, his arms wrapped around the back of my thighs and he pulled me against him, draping them over his own. My skirt rode up around my hips as he placed himself flush against my core, grinding against the thin fabric of my panties. 

My gaze widened and I shook my head, squirming against his grip. “No! Not this! Just kill me!” 

Sukuna laughed again, “You sorcerers really are stupid, huh?” His nails dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, parting me further open for him. 

My hands flew to meet his, scratching and pounding against them with a new sense of urgency. Shock took over my expression as I fought with a newfound strength, but it proved to be fruitless.   

“You can’t!” I cried, kicking and twisting my body. 

Sukuna bellowed out from a laugh, my frantic eyes meeting his half lidded ones, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side as he watched me. He looked as if he wanted to devour me, his tongue darted out again as he licked his lips. Sukuna felt an overwhelming sense of pleasure as I struggled in his grip. There was a deep, dark primal instinct embedded deep within him that made him enjoy forcing submission.   

“I can and I will, slut. No one is coming to save you. You’re all mine.” His hands moved faster than I ever thought as he ripped the shirt of my uniform, the cool air hitting against my already erect nipples and eliciting a sharp gasp from my lips. My chest heaved up and down as my hands flew from his and over my chest, trying to shield my body from his lustful gaze.  

Sukuna grinned, prying my hands away. He groaned, staring at my tits that were on full display. He looked hungry, as if he hadn’t eaten in years and I was the perfect meal for him, served up on a silver platter. My mouth parted when I felt something wet and slimy fall on the swell of my breasts. My eyes blew wide when I saw the glimmer of saliva slide down to my collarbone, pooling there. Drool. He drooled. 

“Oh god. You’re sick.” I cried, wanting the feeling of his skin off of mine. 

“Your God can’t save you now. Take it like the good little slut I know you are.” He wiped his chin with the back of his hand before lowering it down to my cunt, which clenched around nothing. With my skirt bunched around my hips, it provided an ease of access. Sukuna looped his finger through my panties and tore them off in one swipe. 

“No!” I tried to push his palm away futilely. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Yuji can see everything.” He oozed, his voice hitting me like a ton of bricks. “Maybe then that brat will stop jerking his cock to the thought of you.” He snickered, his fingers prodding against my dry folds. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, somehow hoping that his words would be blocked out by this. “Stop, this isn’t right.” I didn’t want to believe the things he was saying, but his taunting would not let up. 

“What’s not right? That you’re a little cock tease or that Yuji fucks his fist picturing you bent over and screaming for him?” He sneers, his fingers make work on my cunt, spreading open my folds but never reaching for my clit. 

His words felt like a vice, tightening inch by inch with every mocking word that dripped from his mouth. Despite looking like my best friend on the outside, there were no similarities on the inside. Sukuna was sadistic, cruel, and demeaning. He enjoyed the chaos he caused, having zero regard for the lives of anyone but himself. 

My reaction must’ve drawn out some pleasure from the monster above me because he spoke up again, suddenly. “You know how many times I had to listen to that brat moaning out your name?” He taunted, glimmering teeth on full display. “It’s only fair that I get a taste.” 

I felt his fingers pull away for a moment, while another shaky sigh came from my parted lips. That loss of contact only lasted for a few seconds, and then came the sense of familiarity when that warm wetness returned. My breathing stuttered as my eyes shot down to my core, immediately noticing the second mouth that formed on the palm of his hand. My mouth slacked open as I watched the thin muscle poke out and lick a stripe up my cunt. 

“Urgh-” My head fell back against the floorboards, feeling the heat begin to accumulate between my legs. 

Sukuna hummed in satisfaction, his free hand moving towards my face. I flinched when I felt his surprisingly soft hands grab my chin and turn my attention back towards him. “Eyes on me or I’ll rip them out of your pretty head.” His nails dug into the sides of my cheeks as he pinched them together. 

His tongue dragged down, gathering up the slick that quickly bloomed at my entrance before pulling back up and drawing out slow circles on the tender nub. He repeated this movement a few times, licking up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. I could hear the lewd noises that my cunt was making, his spit and my own slick mixing together into a sticky mess. As much as I fought against the feelings he was providing me, I could not fight the soft mewl of desperation when his tongue slipped into me. 

“So wet already, pathetic.” As much as I wanted to look away, I enjoyed having my eyes still in their sockets. 

Sukuna groaned at the sensation of my cunt clenching down on his appendage. He had not tasted something so good in over a century, so sweet and warm, dripping out all for him. It felt even better since he could hear Yuji crying out in the background of his mind, shouting obscenities and begging the Curse to stop his assault. Sukuna did not. His tongue dove deeper, licking and slurping like a wild animal at a feast. This was a feast. 

My reactions only spurred him on more, watching gleefully as my legs twitched and toes curled at the sensation. He watched as my eyes rolled back lazily and my hips swayed against his palm. I could feel my eyebrows pull together in a frown, desperately fighting against the feelings he was giving me. 

His tongue curled upwards and my body spasmed. Sukuna chuckled and slammed his palm on my hip, pinning me to the floor to stop my writhing. “Desperate little bitch.” 

My eyes rolled back and I felt my hips jerk involuntarily forward, seeking pressure against my unsatisfied clit. My thighs squeezed together as I tried to drown out the pulsating that grew into a gnawing feeling of pain, wanting a release. 

“Ah, ah, ah.” Sukuna tutted, retracting his tongue and pulling away. “Did I say you could come yet?” 

Another whine came from my lips from the loss of contact. While I fell down from my built up high, so did my pride. Lazy lidded eyes met mine, hints of annoyance lingered behind them as he watched my paled face twitch, snapping back to reality. My hands slammed against the floor and I tried to scoot out of his hold; reality hitting me like a fucking truck. Sukuna followed closely as I scampered backwards, making quick work to grab onto my ankle and tug me back in place. 

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished here.” He growled down at my shivering form, legs turning to mush from a single glare. He enjoyed watching me try to retreat away, but also felt a pinch of annoyance at the back of his head. I watched as his eyes squinted and he smirked, an expression that could only be described as terrifying in this moment. I returned with a look of pure fear as I stared into the eyes of the beast. 

“Please! Don’t! I can’t do this any-” I cried when Sukuna flipped me onto my stomach, my chin knocking against the ground before I could finish my sentence. 

“You’re right. I’m getting bored of this.” Before I had a chance to crawl away again, his hands were pulling at my hips, angling me so that my ass was perched up and pressed into his groin. He must’ve guessed my next moves because his hand moved to hold my back down, keeping my chest pinned to the floor. 

A puff of strangled air left my mouth and I craned my head to look back at him, my eyes pleading for any sense of mercy hidden within him. I felt regret seep into my nerves as I watched Sukuna lick his lips at the sight of my ass, which was on full display for him. His hand pressed harder against my clammy skin, his gaze finally reaching my own. 

“Don’t panic, I’m not fucking that hole.” He traced soft patterns against the globe of my ass. “Not today, anyways.” He chuckled, pleased with himself as he shuffled around with Yuji’s shorts. My throat tightened when his cock sprung free, large and thick, dripping with precum at the tip. 

I bit down hard on my lip and tried to scurry forwards, my blunt nails digging into anything that I could catch. “No. You can’t. You’ll rip me apart-” Sukuna let out a groan of annoyance and pulled me back down. His fingers raked through my hair and tugged it back, guiding my head back towards his direction. 

“I’m going to fuck you whether you want it or not. Fighting back will only hurt you worse.” He grunted, his hand moving back and forth down his shaft, smearing his precum all over until it glistened. He positioned himself at my entrance, slowly guiding himself inch by inch inside of me. My jaw slacked open and my eyes squeezed shut at the burning sensation that shot up my entire stomach. 

“Sukuna, please. Get off.” My hands tried to pry his out of my hair. “It hurts.” 

He said nothing when he slammed himself completely inside me, his nails digging painfully into my skin. I had not been prepared nor adjusted for his size, so when his cock was fully seated inside me, I screamed. The searing pain erupted and traveled up to my throat, making me feel like I was going to throw up. 

“Fuck.” Was all Sukuna could say, still frozen still. He felt like he was being suffocated by the tightness of my cunt, which clenched tighter when I screamed. His eyes closed for a moment, savoring the terrified expression on my face. “You’re so tight.” His hips moved slowly, dragging himself out before slamming back in. 

I screamed again, back bowing down to the ground and clawing harder at his hand. “Too much! I can’t-” Sukuna dragged my head up and slammed it down onto the ground, silencing me immediately. 

“Shut up. I could care less if it hurts. I’ve satisfied you enough.” He spoke low and with no regard for my well being. 

Sukuna’s hips began to move at a steady pace, while the pain of his cock buried inside me still lingered, it was overshadowed by the throbbing at my temple. My vision was spotty and I felt myself swaying, struggling to remain in this position. Sukuna must have noticed this because he let go of my hair and grabbed my hips, whether it was to steady me or to get better leverage, I didn’t know. 

With my slumped form pressed tightly against his groin, it became easier for Sukuna to plow into my cunt, which clenched tightly as a last resort to fight off the intrusion. This only seemed to please him further and he let out a dark laugh, relishing in the feeling. 

With my arms pinned awkwardly beneath my body, I had very little range of motion, which only made it easier for Sukuna. His hips snapped against my ass, filling me up to the brim as his cock slammed into my cervix. My mouth hung open in a silent scream, eyes wide but only able to see dark patches. 

I managed to tilt my head towards him, noticing that he kept his gaze on his cock stuffing me full. My breathing was sporadic, unable to get air in without hiccuping and sobbing. The dark spots in my vision only grew bigger and my head swayed. 

“I’m gonna pa-” 

Sukuna slowed his pace, but it wasn’t for my own mercy. “Tch. Stay conscious. I’m not going to fuck a corpse.” 

My teeth gritted at his words, but his slowed pace allowed me to control my breathing.  

“I’m going to kill you.” I mumbled, eyes watering with fresh tears, clumping my thick lashes together. 

Another booming laugh filled the room again, and this time Sukuna paused. “Oh yeah? The big bad sorcerer acting all tough now?” I was yanked upwards, my back slammed against his chest as he leered down to my ear. With this new angle, his cock reached a whole new depth inside me. My teeth caught my bottom lip, not wanting to let out a sound. 

Sukuna trailed his hands along my waist before squeezing my clammy skin. “You’ve got more balls than that brat.” He whispered, his breath hitting the shell of my ear. “Want to know what he’s doing right now?” He asked, which seemed more rhetorical than anything, his tone hinting at something much more sinister than I expected. 

“What are you talking about?” I hissed back, jerking my head away from the heat of his mouth. 

His hand wrapped around my throat, not enough to cut off air but enough for me to shift back closer to him. “Ah,” his hips jerked upwards, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. “He’s watching.” Sukuna taunted, making sure that I was balanced on top of him before reaching round and grabbing my tit. “Jerking himself like a fucking pubesent child.” 

A wave of nausea hit me in my throat, his words cutting deep. Was this true? Was Yuji enjoying this…? How much could he see? Sukuna tweaked my nipple hard, marveling in the pliable flesh between his fingers. 

“Let’s give him a good show, yeah?” He chuckled, flipping me round so that my legs were on either side of his waist and I was now facing him directly. I straddled him awkwardly, perched upon his legs. My hands flew up to his shoulders so that I wouldn’t fall backwards. Something told me that he wouldn’t care if I fell and slammed my head into the ground again. 

“Don’t say that.” I snarled, glaring up at him while he watched me with half-lidded eyes, too concentrated on the feeling of my walls squeezing around him. “You’re repulsive.” 

“Don’t be all coy with me now. I don’t mind sharing my playthings.” He sneered, his hips snapping upwards while I was caught off guard. My head snapped back and I gasped, feeling the pleasure as he hit a spot hidden deep within me. “That’s it. Let the brat hear you scream for me.” He hit that same spot that made me see stars, my eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. 

I lost control of my emotions, and now was beginning to lose control of my own body. My nerves sent off waves of pleasure as my cunt milked him, clenching tightly every time he buried himself inside me. 

 This was wrong. So so wrong.   

Over and over, Sukuna hit that spongy spot. I could hear just how wet I was everytime Sukuna thrusted his hips. So much so that it gathered at the base of his cock and seeped onto his thighs, making him grin ear to ear. “What a good little sorcerer.” He cooed, edging me on. “Look at you now.” A dribble of drool slid down my chin, soft moans coming from the back of my throat. 

“Ah- there!” I squealed, my nails surely breaking skin and drawing blood, but Sukuna didn’t seem to mind. He was enjoying seeing me like this. As much as he loved hearing me scream and beg for mercy - this, this was something else. Seeing my will break and take his cock like this drove him mad. Seeing my eyes roll back and pouty lips open wide for him made him want to stuff it. 

Sukuna’s hand quickly covered my opened mouth, his mouth returning on his palm to shove his tongue deep into my throat. “Hmmph!” I gagged slightly, not expecting the sudden intrusion. 

“Don’t bite me.” He warned, keeping his pace as he glared down at me. 

His tongue swirled around my mouth, invading my senses and driving me even closer to the edge. With his palm flat against my mouth and tongue shoving against my own, it was harder to breathe. My breaths come in short sporadic gasps and mewls. Excess saliva spilled out of my mouth and coated his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Swallow it all and I’ll let you come.” He ordered. “I’m feeling generous.” I eagerly swallowed every last bit of his spit, knowing that I was close to coming any second now. 

“What a desperate little slut.” His eyes narrowed down on my frame, watching my tits bounce at his quickened pace. 

I moaned against his tongue when I came, squeezing his cock harder than ever. My eyes were wide open but I could barely see a thing, only focused on the feeling on release. “Fuck, you’re gonna push me out.” Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth as he realized that he was about to come too.

“N-not inside…” I moaned, slowly coming back down from my high. 

Sukuna must’ve heard me but chose to ignore me, because his hands moved back to my waist and he pushed me down on his twitching cock, making sure that I couldn’t jump off. He let out a deep moan as he filled me up, heating me up from the inside out. 

I squeaked at the feeling, trying to pull away. “No!” 

His cock was still buried deep inside me while his come leaked out of my overstimulated cunt, the aftershocks of my orgasm clenching around him. He shuddered before releasing my hips, allowing me to skitter off and away from him. The feeling of his come inside me made my body convulse, my body trying to squeeze it all out. I watched as it dripped onto the floorboards and slid between my asscheeks. 

Sukuna sighed, his head raising up to meet my petrified gaze. His chest rose and fell quickly as he watched me. “I’ll see you again, Y/N.”  

[emotionalmessss]

OMG I HAVE AN IDEA!!! What about Aizen Sosuke SFW alphabet??? Aizen with f! reader

SFW alphabet (letters ‘c, h, j, k, l, z’) – Aizen Sosuke.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader;

Format: head canons;

Warnings: fluff, domestic life, married dynamics, territorial behavior, possessive tendencies, pregnancy, a sexual innuendo in letter z;

Plot: sfw head canons about Sosuke and his relationship with his female significant other.

PART ONE.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?).

Sosuke is not a cuddler. Naturally, a relationship implies physical touch as a fundamental part of a healthy connection. Hand and forehead kisses are what he delivers to you, but he would never turn down your offer to give him a massage, or simply lying beside you on his king sized bed.

What he appreciates the most is your proximity. Your reiatsu lingering on his body after you leave is comforting, detecting it around him when he is making plans or talking to his subordinates strikes his ego. Having you sitting on his lap while he writes is probably his favorite way to deal with affection. Sosuke is an attentive man and, albeit he does not need much physical contact, he knows you may suffer for his algid nature and therefore he finds himself tangled into a bear hug with you during private moments.

Mostly, it happens during the night in the privacy of your bedroom.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?).

His large frame grants him the ability to wrap you in his arms pretty easily and make you feel protected. Sosuke is a busy man, most of the time troubled by projects, his mind trained on scheming to outfox his enemies. To have you in his arms might provide him some solace during small breaks.

He rarely initiate an hug, but when he does you know this is his silent and polite way of asking for your attention. You do not have to necessarily converse. All you have to do is let him cradle you in his arms, perched on his lap, his slender fingers combing your hair.

There is more emotion that he would like to show in them, but you never push it. It would most likely spoil the moment and you cannot afford him to cast you away.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?).

Jealousy does not suit him. Sosuke is territorial, but does not see other men as threats to his domain on your heart and body. He knows you belong to him, he sees the way you still get flustered in his presence as you did when you first met.

The choice of not showing jealousy, but opting for a display of power and possession over you instead tickles his ego. He just wants everyone to know you are his life companion. Nothing else matters. Why? Nobody in his right mind would ever consider approaching you, if you wore Sosuke’s scent over you with pride, or if you showed the ring on your finger.

A way to let the world see how deeply he loves you and how much you value him is draping his coat over your shoulders, whilst you walk together, or you attend an event alone. Let’s be real: he would never allow anyone to touch his belongings, unless this person is you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?).

Sosuke gives you possessive and demanding kisses, but there is tenderness in the way he moves his lips over yours. He usually grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger and cranes your neck up to capture your lips in a smoldering kiss.

His hands need to touch your face, cupping it in his hands, holding you still against his body. Besides your lips, Sosuke loves kissing your knuckles, as a sign of reverence. The valley between your breasts is one of the favorite spots he lavishes with small, open-mouthed kisses. He needs you to feel loved, especially since he does not have much time to bask into your arms.

If he has to choose a place where he likes to be kissed, this man is pretty simple and solely asks to feel your mouth over his. It is intimate, sweet, personal. Your taste drives him insane.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?).

Sosuke never felt the desire to have a child, or an offspring to leave his reign to. His vision of the world and power is pretty much selfish, firmly believing he is the only one who could ever establish peace and balance as a ruler of the three kingdoms.

However, despite that, he has no reason to mistreat kids. On the contrary, if he sees potential in them, he begins to instill doubts and his on ideals in their young minds. He might even humour them. He is not very fond of such weak creatures, who spend most of the day playing and weeping, but he values life.

Sometimes, he finds himself wondering how it would be if you got pregnant and blessed his life with the miracle of a child. He would never ask you to get rid of them. Yet, he would definitely plan the day when you get pregnant.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?).

Before going to bed, Sosuke needs to take a bath and sip on a cup of tea. Since you two started dating and became a couple, however, he added some other habits to his routine. Having you in his arms is one of them. There might be nights where he only desires the warmth of your smaller body in his arms, not minding being the big spoon, as you silently rest in the darkness.

There are times, though, when he is too stressed to find comfort in a peaceful moment of untainted tenderness. He ripped more than a gown of yours to lavish your body then. Albeit he rarely tells you what has been bothering him, you accepting him and making him feel loved make bad thoughts dissipate.

Falling asleep with you resting your head on his chest is how he would choose to sleep for the rest of his life.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I missed writing some fluff and this request was staring me down in a mean way… So enjoy this scrap! I am in the middle of writing a few long one-shots and it is taking me a little while. I apologize, but the sense of fulfillment I get from finishing a request is immense!

Likes, comments and re-posts are always welcomed!

Love,

Luce

[emotionalmessss]

Yandere Alphabet - Lelouch vi Britannia.

If I had to choose between Light Yagami or Lelouch, I’d pick Lelouch in a heartbeat. I think I’ll do a full alphabet for Light as well, but Lelouch is just ❤️

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He tries really hard to act like a normal boyfriend, especially if you didn’t know his secret identity. He feels bad if he ends up ditching you somewhere so he tries to make up for lost time in private. He’s sweet, there’s definitely a little bit of PDA even if he can get awkward at times. Don’t kiss him in public though, he gets flustered too easily.

If you do know about his secret endeavors there’s a good chance you’ll tease him while he’s wearing his mask. The Black Knights are so curious about the nature of your relationship but they don’t pry too much.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

The sky is his limit. Everything he’s done he has done it for you and he would do it all over again. That’s how much he loves you. Lelouch does naturally have a preference of keeping his hands clean but if push comes to shove he will do the unthinkable, especially if your life is threatened in some way.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

I can see him being a tease but he will cut it out if you get too snappy or depressed. He would be more menacing if you were on the opposing side though, it’s more rewarding to him that way. Lelouch will keep you locked away from the outside world but if you behave he will give you certain privileges, mostly for entertainment. It’s usually the remote for the TV but if you were really bad he might force you to do something really humiliating, such as strip all your clothes off. Don’t worry, he’s not a pervert, he will give you a blanket to cover up.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

I want to say Geass but that feels too… easy. As much as Lelouch is head over heels obsessed, he does actually really like the chase. His darling is the prize that he gets to seize at the end and it was all thanks to his hard work. He really likes to play around and mess with you, that’s why he’s so hesitant to use his power on you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He hardly ever opens up, and if he does it’s because he is too stressed. Even in those kinds of situations he still tries to keep his poker face but he does crack. It’s the little things, the way his hand linger on your skin, the way he sighs before he goes to bed, it’s these little things that can tell you what’s going on inside his head even if he is hiding stuff from you. Pay close attention to those details, they might be useful in the future.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Depends on how stable his situation is. If everything is smooth sailing he likes to see his darling flare up, it’s cute. He encourages it even! He dares you to say the things you want to say the most but Lelouch always has some comeback, something to humiliate you and put you in your place. However if his plans start falling apart, darlings fighting spirit threatens to become an anyone. Don’t tick him off too much, he will slap the fear back straight into you.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Lelouch does treat it like a game and he claims that it is, but deep down he really doesn’t see it that way. While he does like to play with you for the sake of his own ego, he’s too scared to go too far. He can’t have you getting hurt in any way, not under his watch.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Seeing him lose his temper for the first time ever would be an absolute nightmare. Every step and breath Lelouch takes and makes are all calculated moves in order to ensure his victory. His poker face is top notch which is why it’s so terrifying to see him in such a uncharacteristic state. Darling probably tried to escape but Lelouch caught them and for the first time since they’ve met he’s not the genius they knew he was, he wasn’t Zero, he was human. A human who nearly lost something precious to them, a human who was practically foaming at the mouth with anger as he’s shouting profanities and curses, all of which were unbearable to listen to. He curses you, for being so ungrateful and for trying to escape. He might even start crying if he’s pushed too hard.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

In all honesty, he’s not 100% sure. His main goal is to ensure darling’s safety and happiness and it would be incredible if he were able to stay alive by doing so.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Not really, but it’s not impossible for it to happen. Lelouch is too confident in his looks and abilities to fall prey to such a dumb emotion but he does feel a little stinging sensation in his chest if darling smiles at someone just a tad too brightly for his liking.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

In public he is the ideal boyfriend. Kind, caring and attentive, darling and Lelouch are probably the talk of the entire school. He treats his darling like royalty which naturally causes many heads to turn. He’s not annoying or flashy with his gestures but it’s enough to stand out.

In private he is pretty much the same but he does get more intense with his stares and words.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He can be very direct when he wants to be but often goes for something to make you think about him, something the he knows you can’t resist. He’s obsessed with the idea that he’s always on your mind 24/7 so he will do just about everything he can in order for him to plague your mind just as much as you plague his. He’s very casual with his approaches and conversations but he does say a few suggestive things from time to time which often leaves you blushing.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Definitely. He’s more honest and sinister when it’s just the two of you, he doesn’t need any outsiders butting in. He maintains the perfect boyfriend facade well because of this.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He gets very creative with his punishments and they can vary. They are usually verbal, sometimes a little sexual, but a few good slaps and his usual manipulation usually does the job quickly and efficiently. It’s best to stick to the things he’s sure will work from past experiences.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

The most horrible ones would be the fact that you can’t go outside and see other people. The rest all just depend on darlings attitude and behavior.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

I want to say that he has the patience of a saint but that’s just not true. Even he gets giddy with the prospect of your love just hanging around the corner. He will try to fool himself into thinking that he can wait for some things, but in reality he really is just too excited and eager for darling to fall into his arms.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He would be a shell of his former self. His darling (and Nunnally too but shh) is his main reason to live, the only reason why he’s done the things he’s done. Darling dying would be Hell for him, his soul wouldn’t be free even if he died. He could never truly move on and he always carries the image of his beloved in his heart.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

A little, from time to time. But this is all for the greater good so he’s willing to let it slide. He’d only set his darling free if he was sure if they loved him back though.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

It’s an obsession that builds over time and gradually turns into a supernova. The fear of losing more loved ones is too much to bare and that’s why he becomes the man that he does in the end.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Isolating from him? He won’t allow it, not even for a moment. Crying he can tolerate but self isolation is off the table. Correction, it’s not on the table to begin with.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Aside from the horrendous amounts of gaslighting and emotional manipulation, no not really.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

I mentioned earlier that it’s important for darling to remember when Lelouch cracks and how he did so in the first place. It’s those fits of insanity that darling can use to their advantage

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Both intentionally and unintentionally, yes. You are both his favorite past time activity and his greatest treasure. It’s an odd mix of pain and security but he’s good at juggling both of those aspects.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He’s not a worshiping type and he strikes me as someone who is very realistic. Unless he seriously underestimated you, he probably already knows just what kind of person you are and that’s the allure to him. As for winning his darling over, I can see him being quite traditional here, with a sprinkle of his devilish cheekiness of course.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He actually doesn’t realize he’s pining until someone points out to him that he’s been acting strange lately. He’s a little dramatic once he realizes what he’s feeling but he plays it cool. He’s cautious and he takes his time - slow and steady wins the race, after all.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not on purpose, but there is a tiny chance he would do it on accident. If he’s not careful with his Geass or if he exposes his darling to environments that are too harsh there is a possibility that darling could very well break. Lelouch will do anything in his power to prevent this from happening though.

[emotionalmessss]

Happy Anniversary, Love

150 followers event

Pairings: Reader x Yandere Chrollo

Warnings: Forced captivity, yandere behaviour, yandere, dub con, non con, smut, dark content.

Summary: Today marks the 1 year anniversary of Chrollo and his darling, will his patience run out when Y/n decided to be a brat today, of all days?

Word Count: 4.2k

MDNI: Please read the warnings.

“I bought this for you.” Chrollo spoke, entering the room he shared with you. The dimly lit room provided you with enough light to see what was in his hands, it was a dress. A red satin dress from what you could make out. 

Your eyes turned away, wanting to look at anything but the face of your captor and his seemingly genuine smile, you remembered the time when your eyes would sparkle with excitement whenever you saw that smile of his, how you fell head over heels in love with it. 

You thought back to when you fell in love with him, he was so different back then. He was kind, caring, considerate, a true gentleman; always opening the doors for you, never once letting you pay, walking you back to your apartment without ever trying to invite himself in. 

It didn’t help that he was the most dashing man you had ever seen, always dressed to the 10s, his grey sparkling eyes could draw just about anyone in, his beautiful smile which he would only exhibit when he was in your presence. You felt like you were the luckiest woman alive, oh just how wrong were you?

“My love?” his voice brought you back to reality, the one you didn’t want to face. You wished you could go back in time and just walk past him when you first saw him, you wished you never entertained his offer to buy you another cup of coffee when he spilled yours after bumping into you. You wished you never invited him in that day, and gave him everything you had to offer.

Keep reading

[emotionalmessss]

Feelings: Sukuna Headcanon

A/N: here's a little headcanon for Sukuna, because I haven't written for him in forever lol. Basically, Sukuna develops a crush on Yuji's friend. Idk, this was stuck in my head for a while so why not. And I love somewhat soft Sukuna. Unedited and not beta read, sorry for any mistakes!

Warnings: violence, mention of blood, emotional and psychological abuse, some non-con elements (mostly touching and shit), unhealthy relationships. Sukuna is kinda soft-ish, but still a fucking sadistic prick.

Never in a million years would Sukuna imagine developing a fucking crush on you. He doesn’t care (except for himself and Uraume). He doesn’t love. He doesn’t have feelings. And he definitely doesn’t waste his time on insignificant humans. Especially human sorcerers who happen to be friends with that brat Yuji. Why waste his precious time on lesser beings? 

Sukuna tells himself it’s just boredom. That’s all it is. Being trapped inside Yuji’s body is tedious—and borderline demeaning for someone like the King of Curses—so why wouldn’t he amuse himself with you? You’re around Yuji often, constantly lingering around that brat like an insect that just won’t die. 

Not that Sukuna would ever admit it, but he finds you the least annoying out of Yuji’s friends. Tormenting Yuji and his friends has always been one of the many ways Sukuna entertains himself. But it became even more enjoyable when you came along. Of course, Sukuna would be his usual self. He’d mock, taunt, threaten, and laugh at you. Because why not? It’s fun. 

Sukuna thrives off the fear and chaos he causes. And most of the time, just his name alone is enough to have sorcerers and curses fearing for their lives. You’re no different. 

Except, there is something about you that is different. Sukuna’s been watching you from the very beginning—from the moment you popped into Yuji’s life. Probably debating whether or not he should kill you or toy with you, probably both. Or maybe use you against Yuji? He especially enjoys needling Yuji about you. It’s just too easy to get under that brat’s skin.

“How’s your little pet today, brat? Still breathing?” Sukuna’s voice slithers through Yuji’s mind, condescending and intrusive. It’s not really a question because he already knows the answer. He’s been watching the whole time. As much as he despises watching Yuji fumble around you like a pathetic, horny teenager, there’s really nothing he can do about it.

“Shut up.” Yuji groans back, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temples. As if that would deter the curse living inside him to fuck off. It won’t.

Whatever the reason is, Sukuna spends a lot of time watching you, more than anyone else. 

Sukuna calls you pet names, and they’re almost always mocking. Little thing. Pet. Brat. He’s such a dick. He refuses to call you by your actual name unless it’s to make a point. And when he does? It’s slow, deliberate—like he’s savoring the way it sounds.

Of course, Sukuna wouldn’t be Sukuna if he didn’t take control of Yuji’s body at the worst possible times. When he does manage to manifest temporarily, he makes sure it’s whenever you’re around.

“Studying hard, are we?” The voice that suddenly slips from Yuji's lips is nothing like his. It's lower. Rougher. Coated in mockery and fucked up amusement. It's almost laughable—almost—how oblivious you are, so absorbed in whatever pointless little textbook you've got your nose buried in. “What a good little sorcerer you are.” The words drip from his smirking mouth like poison, sweet and condescending, meant to belittle, meant to sting.

Sprawled across the floor, you freeze instantly, the textbook you were reading just moments ago suddenly slips from your trembling grasp and lands with a soft thud.

Sukuna doesn’t sit up immediately, content with just watching you from Yuji’s reclined position. He lounges in the brat’s body like it’s his throne, sprawled lazily across the dorm bed, one arm slung behind his head, the other resting carelessly along his stomach. His eyes—Yuji's eyes, but not—are half-lidded and dark as he examines you up close for the first time.

For Sukuna, it’s almost fun to appear unexpectedly. There's something so delicious about the way your whole body tenses, the way your pretty eyes widen the second you realize it's him. He will never admit it, of course, but he adores your reactions when he manifests. No warning, no build up—just that subtle shift in posture, the change in voice. Being confined to his vessel's body is tiresome, infuriating, and beneath him. So when he gets the chance to claw his way to the surface, even for a moment, he takes it.

It's not always about violence—though the temptation is always there, testing his control. He could easily grab you and slam you against the wall. Would you scream? Probably. Would you fight? Absolutely—but not well enough. He could almost feel you struggling in his arms, your body twisting and squirming as he pins you down with ease. He could almost hear your pretty voice crack as you scream and beg.

But with you… it's more complicated. With you, he’s more restrained. Killing you would be too quick and easy. No. He’ll take his time with you, making sure he enjoys every second. He doesn't hurt you when he takes control. Not much, at least.

But at some point, things started to change. He started noticing too much, watching you too much, thinking about you too much, looking forward to seeing you too much. It’s infuriating and confusing. Why does he find himself actually paying attention when you speak? Why does he get nervous when you’re on an assignment? Why doesn’t he just kill you and be done with it? He’s had multiple opportunities. And why does his chest burn when Yuji flirts with you? 

And that’s when the frustration sets in. Sukuna despises this unfamiliar feeling.

Honestly, Sukuna isn’t stupid. He knows exactly what he’s feeling, he just refuses to acknowledge it.

In the end, I highly doubt Sukuna would ever admit to having feelings for you, nor would he change his behaviour too much. Don’t expect him to be all mushy and shit. That’s just not his style. But there would be some signs…. 

The signs would be subtle. The last thing he—and his pride—needs is people thinking he’s gone fucking soft. 

He gets quiet when you're speaking. Not out of politeness—he just wants to listen. He'll go silent inside Yuji's head, letting your voice wash over him. He memorizes your cadence, the words you use, the way your voice changes when you talk to other people. And when you talk to Yuji? He listens too closely.

Sukuna started watching you much more often. He finds himself paying extra attention whenever you’re around Yuji, and actually listening when you speak. For once, he’s not thinking about killing or toying with you—he’s just….observing you.

He notices everything about you. The way your nose scrunches adorably when you smile, the way your laughter makes his stomach twist in an unfamiliar way—he remembers every little detail about you, and he hates himself for it.

Whenever you’re on missions or assignments, Sukuna watches you even closer, especially whenever you’re around other curses. Again, he chalks it up to just being boredom, considering he’s stuck inside Yuji and all. But in reality? He doesn’t want you to get hurt. He doesn’t want anyone else touching you, or even coming near you. Just the thought of it makes him livid—not because someone threatened a weak sorcerer. But because they threatened you.

There was one time where you did get injured by another curse on an assignment, and Sukuna lost all composure.

Sukuna rarely steps in, even when Yuji is in danger, preferring to sit back and watch the sufferings of others. He’s selfish. Stepping in to save someone doesn’t serve his purposes. He doesn't protect people—ever. But the moment you were injured, the line was crossed. He forcibly manifested, motivated more than ever to gain control. The curse that attacked you doesn’t stand a chance against him. He’s more unhinged than usual. He doesn’t torture the curse for his own sadistic enjoyment—not this time. Instead, he barely wastes any time ripping it apart and then checking on you. 

“Pathetic.” He sneers down at your crumpled form, not bothering to wipe the blood off his scowling face. It’s difficult to tell if the insult is meant for you or for the curse he just sliced in half. Still, his tone is considerably less….biting than usual. 

Languidly, he crouches beside you, eyes roaming your body with detached curiosity. But something flickers in his crimson gaze—brief, almost undetectable. But it’s there. Concern? Rage? Whatever it is, it makes his glare falter, and his scowl deepen.

“Hurt, brat?” The taunting pet name rolls off his tongue, softer than he would've liked. His gaze shifts between your face and the gash along your side, silently assessing the damage while trying—and failing—to appear indifferent. Like the fact that you’re actively bleeding out doesn’t concern him in the slightest. But the sight does bother him. Deeply.

A low sound rumbles in his throat as he suddenly scoops you into his arms—a growl caught somewhere between annoyance and... something else. Frustration? Worry? Who fucking knows. “If you die from something this trivial, I’ll be disappointed.”

Sukuna doesn’t stop taking control of Yuji when you’re around. But when he first started feeling something deeper for you, he wasn’t around as much. It’s odd, especially since he’s always sought to control Yuji, and has been known to appear at random times. He’s probably been stewing somewhere in his domain, sitting on the mountain of bones as he tries to figure out what the fuck is wrong with him. He’s not fully manifesting, not always. But his presence is there, lurking.

When he takes control of Yuji, he doesn’t threaten or intimidate you outright like he did before. No. Instead, he’s just kinda… there. Almost like he enjoys just being near you. Still, he doesn’t completely stop messing with you—he’s got a reputation to uphold, after all. His threats become empty, more like teasing. More like taunts.

“Keep talking like that, and I'll carve that pretty mouth of yours shut.”

“Am I interrupting something important?” He drawls mockingly, tilting his head and flicking his nails as he tries to appear uninterested. Like whatever you were doing wasn’t even worth his time or energy. “You looked so focused, brat. So serious. And now you look like you’re about to piss yourself.” 

He starts to manipulate Yuji's sleeping patterns, taking control in the dead of night just to watch you sleep. Why? He himself doesn’t even know why. Maybe it's the way you look so unaware. So peaceful. Unlike the pure terror you display when he’s around when you’re awake.

Not that you could notice, but Sukuna doesn’t taunt Yuji about you as much. Not like he used to. The smug remarks, the crude innuendos, the threats laced with amusement��they've slowed, thinned out, almost like he's holding them back. Almost like it's not funny anymore. Because every time he sees Yuji laugh with you, or hears you say his name with that stupid softness in your voice, it sparks something ugly in him. Something terrifyingly possessive.He doesn't want to talk about you—or even think about you for that matter. Not to Yuji. Not when it means acknowledging that you spend more time with that pathetic brat than you ever will with him. So instead of mockery, there's silence. Cold, simmering silence. And if Yuji ever notices the shift, he's smart enough not to say a word.

[emotionalmessss]

A dangerous game

Pairings: Reader x Chrollo

Warnings: yandere, forced captivity, mentions of blood and bruises.

Summary: Chrollo was fascinated by all sorts of emotions, one day he decided to see just how far his darling could go to get a taste of freedom.

Word Count: 3.3k

You hadn’t gotten entirely used to your new life, contrary to what you were trying to portray to your captor. Your temper tantrums died down, your refusal to eat was replaced with you actively waiting at the dinner table as he brought you the food he prepared, your silent treatment was replaced by you engaging in all types of debates with the man who held you captive. 

You didn’t actually warm up to him, rather you learned to be smart. Refusing your meals would make you frail, ignoring him wouldn’t give you any insight into his life and motives, your temper tantrums would only make him restrain you and tighten security diminishing any chances you may have for escape. 

You despised the man who took your freedom away, who plucked you out of your life one fine day only to confine you in the four walls he called your shared home. You were nothing but a mere flightless bird, waiting to find the next opportunity to spread your wings and soar the sky, never to once look back.

Chrollo Lucilfer, your captor, wasn’t an easy individual to read, not because you weren’t skilled at deciphering emotions, rather because he would put on a new face everyday, as if he had no personality of his own, resorting to copy the actions of the many fictional men he would read about. You never did see his true side, you never knew who he really was, all you knew was that he was beyond your understanding and if you learned anything in the past 4 months, it was that escaping him wasn’t possible, but still you held onto hope, that was the only thing that kept you going.

Keep reading

[emotionalmessss]

Hedonist.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader x Yan Feitan. 

Continuation of Declawed.

Warnings: Not SFW, dubcon (Reader is under the influence of aphrodisiacs), yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, unbalanced power dynamics. Word count: 7.5k. 

You are in a room with four walls.

How you got here does not matter. You know you may not leave.

Behind a closed set of drapes lies a window. 

In this room with no past or future, there is but one choice you can make.

Will you peer beyond the curtains or leave them drawn? 

For if you choose to look, there is no telling what you may see. 

… 

“... [First].” 

“Hm?” 

You’re someplace different than where your mind alleged. This is not your coveted room with four, blank walls, where no one can come or go. You’re sitting at a dining room table that tilts too far to the left. There’s an untouched meal in front of you, a cup of tea that’s gone cold, and a napkin folded over your lap just the way you prefer. 

A man sits across from you — Chrollo Lucilfer. He’s staring at you, his fingers steepled, and his body leaning forward. His meal has long been finished. You blink, feeling like a computer that’s booting back up. The fog covering your senses lifts too slowly for your liking. Eventually, a blueprint of your surroundings solidifies in your mind. 

There are three people in the surrounding area, excluding yourself. Two are a formidable threat. One is not. 

“You seem distracted,” Chrollo’s voice gives nothing away. His eyes do though, just a little bit. Concern? Intrigue? You cannot pinpoint where each ends and begins. “That’s unusual for you.” 

You hate when he’s right. “I’d pay more attention if you said anything worthwhile.” 

His lips quirk up. “Is your health not worthwhile?” 

He’s got you where he wants you.

“If you’re truly concerned about my health, then you’ll return my Hatsu,” you maintain unflinching eye contact. He exhales through his nose, belying slight exasperation. “The events of today should prove I’d do better with it from the onset.” 

“In emergencies, yes. And I did return it. Long enough for you to dispatch the threat… and to hurt Feitan’s feelings, evidently.” 

You ignore his last comment, seriously doubting its authenticity. 

“One of the threats, at least,” you make a show of looking him up and down. He sighs, probably heavier than he intended, the chaotic past twenty-four hours undoubtedly weighing him down. Sensing that this particular conversation is better off over, he reclines back into his chair. Instead of mirroring his posture, you cross your legs, fold your gloved hands together, and rest them on your lap. You’re doing everything within your power to give the impression nothing is amiss. 

Alas, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Something is very, very wrong with you. 

It all began with an ambush on the car ride to this safe house. Assassins are par for the course in your line of work, it wasn’t your first encounter and you doubt it’ll be the last. The main problem was that for the first time in your life, you were fighting without your Hatsu in a situation that would’ve strongly benefited from its use. The group focused their attention on you and the Manipulator must’ve met his conditions for his ability to activate. A strange sensation swept over and temporarily debilitated you. Chrollo was quick to notice how you staggered — truthfully, you played it close to the chest to see if he’d risk returning your Hatsu should you be in mortal peril — a gamble that did and didn’t pay off.

It felt like a piece of your soul had been returned to you. Your conjured sword sliced down your three pursuers, they were entirely caught off guard by its appearance. That left you without about a second to retaliate with your briefly returned arsenal until Chrollo realized what you were planning. Ideally, you would’ve preferred to attack Chrollo, since your win condition lay in either killing him or removing his ability to conjure Bandit’s Secret. He was aware of this and kept just enough distance for that very reason. 

It had been Feitan who risked getting the closest to prevent the assassins from doing you any major harm in light of your lackluster dodging. Both he and Chrollo must’ve recognized what you were trying to do and likely considered you more of a threat than the assassin trio. You tried not to be obvious about your intentions, but they’re too sharp. 

The second long window you had felt like more than enough to seriously injure Feitan. While your physical strength had been on the lower side compared to the other Troupe members, you were faster; far outclassing the others in that particular skill set. This boon came with its own share of disadvantages, such as your tendency to tire faster in a fight if it dragged on for hours. However, you were finally in a uniquely advantageous position. You had conserved your strength in case an opening presented itself, and although it almost landed you in hot water to not go all out against three opponents, it ultimately worked in your favor. 

You lunged forward at Feitan with what should’ve been a definitive strike. The speed was there, but the power was not; the Manipulator’s unknown ability weakened you far more than you’d anticipated. It was only recently that you realized his Nen must’ve strengthened in death. It felt mostly inconsequential when you first experienced it; you didn’t think to leave the Manipulator alive as a safeguard. 

Feitan withstood the hit with some minor injuries. Your Hatsu no longer heeded your call, proof that Chrollo had taken it back. You were subdued, Feitan being far rougher than necessary and grumbling under his breath. For the past few hours, you’ve refocused all your energy toward keeping whatever that Manipulator did to you under control without giving your captors a glimpse of your weakened state. This control is steadily waning. Meditation aided you for a time, but you can tell it's growing in intensity, hence your current predicament. 

Your body’s temperature is steadily rising. At first, you hypothesized the ability is supposed to make you mortally ill, but your gut tells you that isn’t the entire picture. Aside from feeling warm and not having all your strength, you don’t believe you’re knocking on death’s door. The symptoms don’t point toward anything that serious. It’s almost as if it made you want something — there’s this primal craving inside you, trying desperately to claw its way to the surface. 

Whatever you’re currently riddled with, it's excruciating. You don’t know how much more you can take or how to put a stop to it. 

There had been a fourth party whose tracking ability led the assassins to you in the first place. After watching his comrades get eviscerated, his Zetsu wavered, giving away his position. Feitan is playing with his new toy in the basement. It’s been in the back of your mind that this fourth man might know the Manipulator’s ability. That’s why you’ve been so desperate to keep the extent of your malaise under wraps, lest Feitan learns something imperative and keeps you in the dark about it. It’ll ultimately be Chrollo’s decision, but you know they’re both not happy with your little stunt earlier. If they learn it’s nothing too detrimental, they’ll let you suffer through it as a punishment. 

“May I be excused?” You inquire with the politest tone you can muster. 

Chrollo motions to your untouched plate. “You haven’t eaten.” 

You knew this would be a point of contention. Not due to any rampant concern on his part, you both know that you’re capable of surviving without food for long periods. He’s just using this as an opportunity to see what’s truly wrong with you — he has to have his suspicions by now. You glance down at your meal. Grilled chicken, leafy greens, and a scoop of rice. The ultra-healthy regiment that Chrollo knows you favor and Feitan complains about. You still remember the look the latter gave you when you wrote chickpeas on the grocery list. 

Lying is a useless endeavor when Chrollo’s involved, he can see past your poker face without issue. Telling the truth is your best bet. “I don’t have an appetite.” 

He makes a show of looking at his watch. “You always have dinner at this time of day.” 

“There’s nothing I can do if I don’t feel hungry now. I’ll eat it in the morning.” 

You know how he loathes food being wasted and try to redirect his attention toward that. This time, you phrase it as a statement rather than a question. Chrollo gives you a long, silent look. His gray eyes pick you apart without any subtlety. He parts his lips, preparing to say something, when his attention shifts elsewhere. 

A blur comes flying your way. From reflex alone, you catch it. A first aid kit? Feitan stands at the kitchen doorway where it must’ve been thrown, wearing a black sleeveless shirt. You stop yourself from frowning. You should’ve been able to sense his presence. Any other time, doing so comes as easy as breathing, but your senses are off-kilter. You can only hope that the ease with which you caught the first aid kit covered this blunder. 

Considering the weight of Chrollo’s stare, that might be a far-fetched dream. 

“Fix this,” Feitan nods at the untreated gash on his right arm, courtesy of your earlier attack. Cutting any synovial hinge joint would have proved helpful, especially against a swordsman like Feitan. Seeing the wound up close shows your aim was slightly off. The attack landed too low on his forearm. You can’t remember the last time you made a mistake like this — it must’ve been back when you were a child. If it weren’t for that Manipulator’s ability, you would be in a far better situation right now.

The chair scrapes against the floor when Feitan pulls it out. Not seeing the point in making his mood worse, you wordlessly take the steps to comply with his demand. You go to the kitchen sink, remove your leather gloves, and wash your hands. The cool water running over your skin feels heavenly. However, you notice a damning detail while you dry yourself off. 

Your hands are shaking. 

You don’t stare at the impending problem so as not to draw unwanted attention. Your body's homeostasis is deteriorating faster than you can manage it. Or, to be more accurate, the ability’s strength must be advancing over time. Any half-decent Nen user should be capable of controlling their body temperature, respiratory rate, blood pressure, and heart rate, or else your aura suffers. You’ll have to pick your poison here. If you focus mostly on your hands, you should be able to stop the shaking for a time. Consequently, that’ll leave your fever unchecked. 

You need to get this over with quickly. 

After putting on surgical gloves and a mask, you situate yourself next to Feitan. 

“Planning operation?” He asks, amusement in his voice. 

“This is far from a sterile environment. I’m taking the necessary precautions to prevent an infection,” you soak a gauze pad in saline solution then dab it against his wound. You’re glad the mask is covering half your face, since you’re unable to stop yourself from frowning. Beating yourself up over your past mistakes won’t do any good, yet you can’t help feeling mildly disappointed seeing your botched work up close. Who knows when you’ll get an opportunity like that again? 

You’re about to wrap it in a bandage when Feitan speaks up again. “Need stitches?” 

Your fingers twitch despite yourself. He’s intentionally trying to rile you up. You won’t let him. 

“... No.” 

He snickers, his eyebrows rising, adding to his air of condescension. “Why?”

“It’s too shallow of a cut.”

“Heh.” 

What a bastard. You momentarily consider the merits of stabbing him with one of the needles in the kit. The temporary satisfaction wouldn’t be worth the trouble it’d cause you later on, you decide. You’ve endured several torments from Feitan up until this point without ever acknowledging his efforts. Truthfully, you don’t understand what exactly it is Feitan wants from you. Chrollo is easier to understand in that one aspect. Your (former?) boss wants your relationship to return to what it was before — he said so outright using words sweet enough to make your teeth ache. 

Feitan has been far less forthcoming with his motivations. He barely talks to you aside from scathing remarks, doesn’t sleep in the same room as you and Chrollo, and frequently goes missing for days at a time. All you have to go off of is the conversation he had with Chrollo the night you gave up your Hatsu in return for Ash’s safe passage. He said he was ‘interested’ in you. It was Chrollo he told this, so you know he wouldn’t lie. He couldn’t have been vaguer if he tried. 

Did he mean ‘interested’ sexually? Romantically? It’s no secret that Feitan is a sadist, but he’s never made passes at you. You don’t think he’d be the type to beat around the bush if he wanted something like that. You’ve caught him staring a few times yet always chalked it up to him thinking you’re about to pull a stunt. Then again, you’re entirely ignorant to whatever agreement Chrollo and Feitan have over you. 

Outwardly, it looks the same as it’s always been. Chrollo gives orders and Feitan obeys them. 

So why is it that your instinct whispers there’s far more to the dynamic than Feitan being an uninterested third party? 

You secure a bandage around his forearm then turn away from him and Chrollo. It’d be nice if enduring the humiliation of tending to the subpar wound you inflicted is your entire punishment, but you somehow doubt that. You know your body well and your limits even better, loathe as you are to admit you have any. Exhaustion is nipping at your heels while the night is still young. The thought of lying down, even if it’s just for a few hours, sounds divine. 

“I’m finished,” you tell Feitan, sensing his eyes on your back while you throw the mask and gloves away. “Was there anything else you needed?” 

“Your hands. Show me.”

You stop turning the faucet on to spare him a glance over your shoulder. “May I ask why?” 

“You can. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” 

Your eyes flicker to Chrollo next, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout this interaction. The closed-mouth smile he’s giving you promises nothing good. He knows you’re hiding something — they both know you are. They’re worse than sharks smelling blood in the water. You’ve been delaying the inevitable to the best of your abilities, but this game of cat-and-mouse can’t last forever.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you take a step forward, only for a bout of lightheadedness to come crashing down. You’re forced to grab the kitchen counter to steady yourself, the granite splintering beneath the intensity of your grip, crumbling to the ground in a noisy cascade. You swear you’re seeing double when you stare down at the ground, your heart rate accelerating and breathing turning erratic. Deep breaths are taken in an attempt to steady yourself.

Immediately, there’s a presence by your side, then a delightfully cold touch against your forehead. You try not to lean into it. 

“Burning up,” Feitan remarks. He moves his hand back, and you almost keen at the loss, a factor that is as mortifying as it is perplexing. You tell yourself it’s because your body wants to regain proper equilibrium by cooling itself off. There can be no other explanation. You’re coming down with a fever, you’ll rest, and this will be over. Simple as that. 

Chrollo makes his way over to you like he has all the time in the world, his countenance giving nothing away. “He was telling the truth, then?” 

“Guess so.” 

“What… what are you both talking about?” You inquire, all the while trying and failing to push yourself up. You, a person capable of wielding an ax that weighs 4,000 pounds with ease, can’t even stand up straight. It’s a miracle your legs haven’t given out beneath you yet. 

“Feitan has been interrogating the man in the basement,” Chrollo reaches into his back pocket to grab something, a napkin, by the looks of it. He holds it up at your eye level. You blink, having to strain so that the word scribbled on it can come into focus. The messy handwriting must belong to Feitan. “I wanted to wait and see it for myself before believing him.” 

You almost get sick when the word finally registers. 

Aphrodisiac.

Feitan must’ve scribbled this note down and handed it to Chrollo. You weren’t in a good position to be perceptive of your surroundings, otherwise, you would’ve surely noticed. 

Chrollo reaches out for you, his fingers settling beneath your chin and lifting it. Your eyelids flutter shut, the simple skin-to-skin contact exhilarating, made even better when his thumb brushes over your lower lip. He gives a content hum over your willingness to accept his touch for the first time in several months. It’s a surreal sensation — how your senses can be both heightened and capable of blocking out so much — your brain is unwilling to register anything aside from the men before you. You’re backed against the now broken countertop when Chrollo advances impossibly closer, his chest pressing against yours. 

“You must’ve been suppressing it through sheer willpower all this time. I’m impressed,” he sounds like it too. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, dear, but this won’t be going away on its own.”

Chrollo’s lips caress the shell of your ear, and his hands start creeping down your body while he speaks. “You need only say the word and we’ll satisfy you. Otherwise, it’ll progress to the point it’s unbearable. I don’t exactly enjoy watching you suffer, whether you believe me or not. So be a dear and—” 

However he intended to end that sentence will forever remain a mystery. It stokes something inside you, rekindling the dying embers of your pride. Bloodlust radiates off you in tangible waves, cracking the glass of a nearby window. The miasma surrounding you is thick and potent. Harnessing the remnants of your strength, you press your hands to Chrollo’s chest, shoving him away with all your might. He stumbles back yet quickly steadies himself. 

“Do not touch me,” you seethe, the words more of a growl than anything. 

Aura envelops Feitan, who must be anticipating further resistance. The flow stops as soon as it begins when Chrollo puts a hand up to stop him. Silence loudly resounds in the tight quarters you’re forced to share with them. You feel akin to a cornered cat, hackles raised and teeth bared. There’s nothing practical you can do — it’s maddening to acknowledge that. You’re entirely at their mercy. 

And you know neither of them have any to give. 

Chrollo sighs, straightening the wrinkles on his shirt your outburst caused. “You’re making this needlessly difficult for yourself, [First].” 

“Just… knock me unconscious until it subsides, or something,” you grit out through clenched teeth. The ghosts of Feitan’s touch against your forehead and Chrollo’s fingers upon your lips haunt you. It’s as if all levels of higher thinking ceased the second they came into contact with you. “I can’t… I refuse…!” 

“Stubborn woman. Not normally this stupid,” Feitan clicks his tongue. “It’s Nen. Doesn’t work like that.” 

You grip your head with your hands. It hurts. It’s hot. Lascivious need wraps its tendrils around you and squeezes. Your body is no longer heeding the orders of your mind. You can smell Chrollo’s cologne — sandalwood, amber — as well as the metallic scent of blood clinging to Feitan. You shouldn’t have pushed him away. You should’ve let him touch you, please you, satiate this voracious appetite that won’t go away on its own. It’s been so long, far too long. He said it wouldn’t go away on its own, didn’t he? How much longer can you fight it off? 

More importantly, do you even want to fight anymore? 

You take an unsteady step forward, your head hanging long, allowing for a shadow to fall over your eyes. Your hand reaches for Chrollo’s belt yet never meets its destination. An undignified noise leaves your lips as you’re scooped up, your cheeks burning and eyes shooting wide open. Your instinct is to struggle, but when you feel a hand press beneath your thighs to steady you, your brain turns to mush. The touch isn’t anything special, though your body acts like it is. You can feel an unnatural amount of wetness staining your panties. Consequently, you rub your thighs together, hoping to alleviate some of the desperate need for friction. 

A deep, dark chuckle reverberates in Chrollo’s chest. “She’s precious, isn’t she, Fei?” 

Feitan doesn’t confirm or deny, though you can feel his eyes boring into you. “Not mad at her?” 

“That can wait for later. For now, though…” he trails off, his voice lowering in pitch and volume. “Aren’t you interested in savoring her to the fullest?” 

You don’t remember the trip to the bedroom. 

There’s the faint sound of rushed footsteps, creaky door hinges groaning, shoes being thrown aside, and the rustling of fabric. Your heartbeat rises to a crescendo when you’re placed on the bed, anticipation gnawing at you. The room is dripping with tension and a sick part of yourself relishes in it. You prop yourself up on your elbows only to find yourself getting pushed not so gently back down. 

Feitan is leering at you from above, his eyes like that of a madman. 

Not a word is uttered as you glare back up at him. Without his cowl, you can see every inch of his countenance, the cruel curve of his lips, and the upward incline of his eyebrows. There’s no time to dwell on the negative emotions such a feral stare instills, for you register movement coming from behind. Familiar toned arms wrap around your torso. Chrollo pulls you onto his lap, your back flush against his broad chest. His lips lovingly caress the shell of your ear, grazing the sensitive flesh with his teeth. 

“Are you ashamed, [First]?” He taunts, his voice taking on a husky tinge. “A woman of your status offering herself over so willingly to two depraved men… I can’t fathom how bruised your ego must be.” 

This compromising position must do something for him. You feel his hardened length poking at your ass, betraying his arousal. 

“Neither of you are capable of harming my ego.” 

You exhale sharply when he tugs your head back by your hair. 

“Casuistry is unbecoming of you, dear.” 

“Is that what that was…?” You trail off, trying not to show how good it feels when Chrollo latches his lips to your neck. “Are you so caught up in your own delusions that you fail to recognize this is about satisfying a biological function, not an expression of passion?” 

You’re grateful for your high pain tolerance when Chrollo sinks his teeth into your skin, hard enough to leave a mark for the days that’ll follow. He lavishes his tongue against it afterward, his chest vibrating from a quiet chuckle. 

“Talks too much,” Feitan grumbles. For a moment, you wonder if he's referring to you or Chrollo. “Gag?” 

“Unnecessary. We wouldn’t want to miss out on the sounds she’s going to make, would we?” 

This line of reasoning seems to satisfy Feitan. Unlike Chrollo, who treats undressing you as if it were a form of foreplay itself, Feitan is rough with your clothes. You’d almost think they offended him somehow. You wince at the sound of ripping. The black fabric covering your torso flutters to the side, revealing the swell of your cleavage. Perspiration clings to you in a thin sheen from your body’s meager attempts to cool down. You swear you hear Feitan’s breath shudder when his sallow fingers descend on your chest. 

He’s far from gentle with his exploration of the soft flesh. He kneads and pulls, giving little heed to what you find pleasurable. Then his pointer finger and thumb find your nipple, visible through your nude-colored bra. A special sadistic delight is taken in twisting the nub and observing the subsequent parting of your lips in a high-pitched gasp. 

“... Cute,” he comments. Your fingers twitch, indignation spurring you on to try and strike him, a rebellion Chrollo ends prematurely by holding your dominant arm in place. He uses enough pressure that you wouldn’t be surprised if the skin bruises in the shape of his hand. 

“Now now, there’s no need to resort to violence, is there?” Chrollo’s voice is akin to nails on a chalkboard. The irony of a mass-murdering thief preaching this platitude isn’t lost on you. 

Feitan quirks up an eyebrow when you jut your head to the side, your teeth clenching and cheeks burning. Damn them both. 

“Ego hurt yet?” Feitan croons. 

You recenter yourself to the best of your abilities, considering every cell in your body is screaming for a return to primal instinct. They’re both dead wrong if they think you’re going to roll over and take everything they dish out. Perhaps it’ll spell more trouble for you further down the line, but the logical side of your brain which normally dominates is waning. You wrench yourself forward with enough force that Chrollo has to lessen his grip on your arm, lest he dislocate it. Maybe there is some truth behind his earlier claim that he ‘doesn’t enjoy watching you suffer’, or maybe the lack of bloodlust clues him in that you aren’t up to anything nefarious. 

Whatever the case, this momentum and easing up of your restraints grants the freedom to do what you plan next. Your hands, marred with dark lines along the veins from Corruption’s improper usage many years prior, hold Feitan’s face in place. His shock is evident by the lack of movement on his part when your lips press against his. Your clammy skin derives satisfaction from how unnaturally cold his body is. 

This is the closest thing you’ve gotten to relieving the gnawing need that’s been threatening to devour you from the inside out. 

In the millisecond it takes for him to comprehend what’s happening, he secures back what little power you temporarily held over him. His kiss is rough, demanding, and clearly inexperienced. You’re too far gone to care. You make a show of kissing him with every ounce of languid affection you once bestowed upon the man behind you, your head tilting to the side and back arching to press further into him. Something between a groan and a grunt leaves Feitan when your hand seeks out his clothed length, palming at it until it fully hardens. 

This temporary rebalancing of power mixed with finally feeding the carnal hunger within you is invigorating, sending adrenaline through your veins. Feitan nips at your lower lip and you grant him access to your mouth. His tongue seeks out yours in a dance you never thought you’d willingly participate in. The world is fuzzy, an unintelligible string of blurred shapes and colors you can’t make any sense of. All that registers to you is an all-encompassing desire to succumb to lust’s bittersweet embrace. 

Is this what it’s like to be drunk? Stuck in a pleasant haze where the slightest stimulation feels far better than it should, potential consequences be damned?

When you part for air, a thin trail of saliva connects you. 

“Still wish to gag me?” You goad, unwilling to resist making a jab at his expense. He enjoyed that far too much for you not to sneak in a snide comment.

Feitan smirks. “Not with rag.” 

He then looks to Chrollo, as if silently asking permission for something. Evidently, he must receive it, for the rest of your outfit is torn from your person. What would’ve irritated you in any other circumstance comes as an immense relief now. The heat enveloping you is stupefying. Cognition is overshadowed by a primal need you never could’ve thought yourself capable of. You’ll do anything to offset this unique torture, the likes of which you’ve never been forced to endure.

You’re left in nothing but your sheer black tights and bra, your chest heaving in a desperate bid to get enough oxygen. Sweat trickles down your temple. 

Every inch of your body is so unusually sensitive, as if your nerve endings have multiplied. The science behind whatever the Manipulator’s ability did intrigues you. Did it decrease activity in your prefrontal cortex, making long-term planning near impossible? Excite the endocrine system in a way that encourages sexual arousal? Trick your brain into activating fight or flight if you’re not being stimulated? 

The relationship between science and Nen has always fascinated you. Regrettably, you’re not in the headspace to conduct research. It’s growing increasingly difficult to form so much as a coherent thought.

Behind you, Chrollo undoes the clasp of your bra, revealing your chest in its entirety to both men. If there was ever any doubt that Feitan’s interest in you is lascivious in nature, his current expression dispels it. He looks at you like one would a piece of tantalizing meat. You never would’ve thought Feitan was sexually attracted to you by the indifferent air he normally held. In retrospect, you wonder if that was his way of trying to keep his impulses under control until the timing was right. 

“Lift yourself up for me, dear,” Chrollo uses such gentle words, but his tone tells you this is an order. You do as he requests. From this angle, he’s able to help pull your tights down by the waistband. It’s a slow, tedious process; he acts as if he has all the time in the world, inching the delicate fabric down to reveal your thighs. You shiver when his fingernails scrape at your skin. It takes everything you have to hold back a sinful moan at the teasing contact. 

“I hadn’t realized tights were so sacred to you,” you say. He had no objections when Feitan tore at the rest of your custom-tailored outfit. 

You can hear the smile on his face when he replies, “There’s only this one pair, whereas we have other clothes for you. It’d be a shame to not see you in something that complements your features so well.” 

“How very considerate.” 

Feitan helps pull it off once it gets to your knees, using a degree of care you thought him incapable of. It must be because his boss willed the action. He spreads your legs without any resistance, his eyes fixating on your covered core. Evidence of your arousal seeps through. It’s a sight that causes Feitan to mutter something in his language that you suspect to be an expletive.

A silver streak soars through your vision. You go motionless, allowing Chrollo to slice through your panties with his Ben’s Knife. 

You glare at him from the corner of your eye. “Are you trying to kill me? What strange paraphilias you’ve developed since we’ve last been intimate.” 

“I was confident in your ability to stay still,” Chrollo’s fingers linger right above your clit, refusing to touch the one place you begrudgingly desire him most. “Besides, we both know a little poison wouldn’t put your life in serious danger. Give yourself more credit, sweetheart.” 

The audacity of this man is astounding. 

Chrollo spreads your folds for Feitan’s viewing pleasure. 

“Isn’t she just lovely?” Chrollo practically purrs, his baritone voice causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin, despite the internal heat afflicting you. “You can touch her, Fei. She won’t bite.” 

It’s an invitation he can’t turn down. 

Without warning, two fingers are thrust inside you. You tense at the unexpected intrusion and have to tell your muscles to relax. Fortunately, there’s enough natural lubrication that it doesn’t hurt as bad as it could’ve. You suppose it should come as no surprise that the man with an affinity for torture isn’t tender in bed. He cackles at your visceral reaction, but you have no chance to retaliate, for he pulls his fingers back out and slams them back in. Dull discomfort quickly transitions to a deep, satisfying feeling. Chrollo further enforces it by finally rubbing precise circles just the way you like on your clit. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and lull your head to the side. Digging deep into the recesses of your hazy mind, you try to block out who exactly is touching you like this, wanting to focus on the pleasure and nothing else. 

Chrollo must have a rough idea of what you’re trying to do. He sighs, as if disappointed, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to face downward. 

“Open your eyes, or we’ll stop,” he whispers. You bite down on your lower lip hard enough to almost bleed. “Oh, [First]. I know very well that you aren’t a prude. Come now. Don’t make me ask again.” 

Your eyelashes flutter open like butterfly wings. From the position he’s holding your head, you have nowhere to look but at Feitan’s fingers slipping in and out of you, a lewd sight that makes you whimper. Maybe you’ll berate yourself for your weakness when you’re in a lucid mindset. For now, however, you’re starting to lift your hips to meet his relentless assault. You feel no better than a vacuous animal, yet embarrassment is the furthest thing on your mind. The word has been wiped clean from your lexicon. 

With how sensitive your body is in this state, it doesn’t take long for that knot in your stomach to tighten. You’re panting, your head is thrown back, taking in each wave of overwhelming stimuli. Chrollo’s lips caressing your neck’s pulse, the friction on your clit, and Feitan’s fingers exploring your insides. It’s too much. The air is heady with the scent of sex, Chrollo’s cologne, and the metallic blood splattered on Feitan. 

You’re so close, your walls clenching and the muscles in your thighs going taut— 

—When they both abruptly stop. 

Breathlessly, you murmur ‘wretched sadists’ in your native tongue.

“Him more so than me,” Chrollo replies. In your frustration, you forgot he was making good progress in learning your country’s language. Soon you won’t even have that to keep for yourself. He’ll have invaded every inch of your life and claimed it for himself. 

Feitan brings his slick-covered pointer and middle finger close to your face. He parts them, observing the string of your arousal it forms with an amused expression. 

“Needy thing,” he snickers. 

He takes his fingers into his mouth, then gives a low hum, apparently enjoying your taste. When the digits slide back out, they’re coated in both his saliva and your essence. You grimace when he places them on your closed lips next, your obsession with hygiene temporarily triumphing over the aphrodisiac’s effects. Feitan frequently poked fun at how you wiped away blood and viscera should any have gotten on your person after a kill. You’ve never been partial to uncleanliness, although you could deal with it just fine when necessary. 

Knowing Feitan, he’s likely getting off on your discomfort. 

“Open,” he demands. You do with some reluctance, tasting yourself on your tongue. Your unusual obedience seems to please him. “Good girl.” 

You narrow your eyes into slits then, warmth flooding your face. He’s the last person you’d ever want to give you a compliment like that. Condescension is an area that both Chrollo and Feitan excel in. Chrollo’s is often more subtle, taking a moment’s consideration to fully comprehend, whereas Feitan is cruelly blunt. You can’t decide which is worse. 

The bed dips as Chrollo readjusts himself. Feitan moves to the side, giving Chrollo plenty of room to do whatever he wants with you next. Your former boss unbuttons his shirt and tosses it aside. His hands go to your shoulders, pushing in a silent communication for you to lay back. If it weren’t for the unfair condition you’re currently plagued with, you would’ve had some choice words at the ready. Especially when he strokes your cheekbone with the back of his knuckles, softly, as a lover would. You internally curse at how your traitorous body leans into his touch. 

The distinct sound of Chrollo undoing his belt catches your attention. 

After ridding himself of his remaining clothes, he lifts your left leg over his shoulder, an enigmatic gleam in his gray eyes. You feel his tip rub teasingly over your folds, gathering your abundant wetness. Proving to you just how desperately your body wants this — wants him. He’s trying to make a point. You imagine you must be quite the sight to him, all disheveled like this. Forcefully dragged out from your icy shell of propriety. Your hair which is normally styled in an updo is loose and forming twirls against the bed, your chest is rising and falling erratically, and your aura is a mess. 

In this moment, you’ve essentially been reduced to a civilian. 

You both let out content noises when he enters you. Your walls convulse around him, taking him in with ease, despite how long it’s been since you’ve had sex. It’s as if your body is telling you that it remembers him, no matter how hard you try to forget. In the dark of night, you sometimes wonder if Chrollo knows you better than you know yourself. He’s committed every little nuance about you to memory. Your preferences, likes and dislikes; he’s showcasing his mastery over you by providing the pleasure only he can. 

You shudder when he fully sheathes himself inside you. It makes the aphrodisiac swallowing you whole slightly more bearable, quelling the fire just enough that you no longer feel you’re being burned. 

Feitan lazily jerks himself off at your indecent expressions, breathing heavily as he pumps his reddened cock up and down. 

“You’re a cruel woman, depriving me of this for so long,” Chrollo takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them above you. “I’ve longed for your body terribly, love. It belongs here — underneath me.” 

By the way your face contorts, he must be able to tell that he won’t like whatever your reply will be, so he sets out to steal the air from your lungs. An undignified whimper leaves your lips at the rough pace he establishes from the onset. You’d almost think it was him under the influence of the aphrodisiac and not you. There’s no gradual, sensual buildup, just skin slapping against skin as he fucks you without mercy. You want to grab ahold of something, anything to steady yourself in the unforgiving onslaught of ecstasy, but his grip on you is unrelenting. Your limbs feel like jello, incapable of displaying your usual strength to break free from his hold. 

Sensing your intentions, as he almost always does, he coos, “If you want something, then be a dear and beg.” 

There’s a darkness in his voice that’s never been directed at you before. An underlying desperation. Chrollo craves you, longs for you, and you’ve denied him his greatest desire. He has no right to sigh and brood over your refusal to go back to how things were, before he betrayed your trust. You let him into your world. Granted him access to parts of yourself that have never seen the light of day, tentatively opened your heart bit by bit. 

Only that alone couldn’t satisfy him. He needed more than your heart. Your mind, your soul, your body; your very being. And you weren’t willing to give him that. Not then, not now, not ever. So you purse your lips, glaring up at him with all the defiance you can muster in this weakened state. 

He chuckles at the ferocity in your eyes, though it’s a humorless sound. Bitter, almost. 

“My stubborn girl,” Chrollo whispers in your native tongue. “Try as you might, you’ll never be rid of me. I won’t even let you go in death.” 

“I’ll— mm— have to test that theory.” 

Something passes over his face then. Is it exasperation? Dismay? Hurt? 

“Go ahead then,” he says. You’ve never seen this look in his eyes. “Do your worst.” 

An odd sensation sweeps over you then. You furrow your eyebrows together, trying to place it, all the while Chrollo increases his speed. This is a phenomenon you’ve experienced and recently at that. It’s akin to puzzle pieces fitting together, everything falling back into its proper place. Then it hits you, the realization causing your eyes to widen and your breath to catch in your throat. 

This bastard just returned your Hatsu. 

You try (and fail) to lift your head. You can barely think straight, much less properly harness your mess of an aura. Being condemned to an eternity of hunger and thirst with food and drink receding from your reach would be preferable to this. It’s wicked; it’s Chrollo making good on his surname. His cock twitches inside you at your futile struggle. He hits a spot in you that makes you keen, you ruined orgasm from earlier growing closer and closer. 

“What are you waiting for?” Chrollo challenges in between soft pants. “Have I rendered one of your country’s best fighters incapable of making a single strike? Hm?” 

“That isn’t—” your own mewl cuts you off, “This is… not fair…!"

He shakes the hair covering his eyes so nothing can obstruct his current view. “I can’t be, darling. Not with you.” 

If you didn’t know any better, you might think he sounds apologetic. 

This is quickly disproven when his fingers find your clit and rub it just right. 

When you come, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Your back arches into him, your lips part in a silent scream, and you manage to exert enough strength to free your hands from Chrollo’s grasp. You scratch your fingernails down his back, leaving angry red streaks in your wake. Chrollo curses under his breath in a rare instance, given his proclivity for formal speech. Your walls squeeze down on him like a vice. 

His hips stutter and his grip on you becomes bruising. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, quietly moaning your name as if you were a deity; and he, your most devout follower. 

Warmth floods your insides not long after, a seemingly endless stream of cum painting your walls white. Chrollo holds you in place, absentmindedly rubbing circles into the skin he just bruised, a satisfied smile on his lips. You feel him go soft inside you, yet he still makes no sign of pulling out. To add insult to injury, your Hatsu slips away like sand between your fingers, back into his wrongful possession.

Then thick ropes spurt across your tits, accompanied by something like a growl from Feitan. Seeing you come undone must’ve pushed him over the edge. He pumps himself to completion while you struggle to make sense of what just happened. What you just did. 

The aphrodisiac is still active in your system, you can feel it clouding your senses and diluting your judgment. However, it’s far less potent than it was earlier. At its peak, it threatened to fray your sanity. What a dreadful ability. You regret killing the one who used it on you. Had he still been breathing, you would’ve flayed him alive for doing this to you. 

Feitan must not be the pillow talk type. He’s quick to redress, slinking out of the room after giving you an additional once over. He smirks and then leaves you to the whims of his boss. 

Chrollo places the back of his hand against your forehead. “Your fever’s gone down.” 

You avert your eyes and he tilts his head. 

“Don’t tell me you’re upset,” he comments, while finally pulling out. You feel his release seeping out in thick globs. “You would’ve been far worse off had we not intervened. Our guest in the basement can attest to that.” 

When you stay stubbornly silent, he sighs your name. “I know your vocal cords are working just fine. Whatever it is you wish to say, say it.” 

Your head snaps back so you can properly stare him in the eye. There’s a trembling of your lower lip that takes him aback, although he smooths his expression to one of indifference almost immediately. You aren’t the crying type. If anything, he’s probably cried more than you have in the time you’ve known him. He goes to wipe at your lash line, but you smack his hand away. The hit barely has any force behind it. Unexpectedly, he stills, his gaze boring down. 

“I can’t believe I actually l—” you cut yourself off with a shake of your head. You’re exhausted, not thinking straight, and you probably won’t be able to move without help. Whatever lapse in judgment that almost caused you to admit an intimately held secret closes as soon as it opens. 

Chrollo studies you. Whatever he feels then is a mystery, though you hope it cut him deep. Through flesh and sinew, down to the bone. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he eventually says. “I know you hate feeling dirty.” 

When he lifts you up, careful not to aggravate the bruise on your person, you mull over a single question. 

Did he change the subject for your sake, or for his? 

[emotionalmessss]

King of Curses

A/N: a little Sukuna one-shot for my first ever post. :) I'm open to writing more if anyone has some requests. :)

Synopsis: reader and megumi find themselves trapped in sukuna's domain. Non-canon. No spoilers.

Warnings: violence, kidnapping, rape/non-con, blood, gore. this is pretty dark and if that triggers you do not read! 18+ readers only! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 8.2k

Blood. It was the first thing that assaulted my senses. The air was thick with it. The stench of it was enough to make my nose curl upwards in revulsion, my eyes immediately stinging and tearing up. I forced my eyes closed, blinking away the burning sensation to my best abilities. The next thing I noticed was the smell of death. It was everywhere, surrounding us from all sides, along with the piles of bones that littered the ground. This was Hell, I was so sure of it. The dread built up in my stomach, reminding me that we could easily become a pile of bones and rotting flesh if we were not cautious. 

“Megumi.” I spoke out, my voice rumbling low with fear. 

“I know.” The Sorcerer beside me glanced over, his eyes narrowed in concentration. 

I suppressed the bile that rose up in my throat as we pressed on. The ground was covered in a thick layer of blood and water, making it incredibly difficult to maneuver. I had stepped on more bones than I could count, nearly losing my footing in the process. I would have toppled over if it weren’t for Megumi, his thick arm draped over my shoulder, keeping me balanced. 

“We need to get out of here. Whatever here even is.” My teeth gritted, almost enough to shatter them into pieces. Not only was it disgusting here, but it was frigid. My fingers could barely function, the chill I felt traveled all the way to my bones. 

Megumi gave a slight nod, but remained silent, he was too focused on what was ahead of us. Which was nothing much but more fog, blood, and bones. He was limping beside me, blood coating whatever was left of his uniform and clinging to his face. His upper leg was bleeding badly. Megumi and I were able to hold our own, our bodies strengthened from years of training and combat, but it didn’t mean that we couldn’t bleed out. And I feared that he would bleed out before we got out of here. 

I wasn’t in the best of shape either, my bicep had suffered a deep cut, not nearly as bad as his though. However, it hadn’t stopped bleeding since we were summoned here. Wherever here even was. My mental state was more damaged than anything, the fear slowly eating away at my senses.  

“Gojo?” I asked, peering up at him through my disheveled hair. “Nobara?” 

My mind drifted to Itadori when the names of my friends fell from my mouth, a frown forming across my lips as I thought of my best friend. A vessel to Ryoumen Sukuna, the King of Curses. Itadori could no longer control him and in return, we all lost our friend for the time being, hopefully. My eyes stung with fresh tears at the thought of it, brimming over the bottom of my lashes. I shook my head. Itadori was strong. He was going to be okay. At least, I tried to convince myself every night. 

“I don’t know. They might’ve made it somewhere safe. It seems like it’s only us here.” Megumi winced as he spoke, his ankle buckling beneath him and causing him to topple down in a heap. He cursed under his breath, his head hanging low, letting out an annoyed grumble.   

“Megumi.” I dropped down to my knees beside him, the fabric of my skirt soaking up the crimson liquid, coating my thighs. “Let me wrap it at least.” My hands moved to cup his face, thumbing away the dry blood around his mouth. 

He winced, squeezing his eyes shut in response. “That’s not important right now. I need to get you out of here.” He began to push himself off his knees, but buckled back down in the process. 

“Just stop! Why do you always have to be so fucking difficult?” I shook my head in annoyance. My hands fiddled with the hem of my skirt, tearing a strip of fabric off. My eyebrows were pulled together in concentration as I began to wrap his wound, pausing and resuming when he gave a sharp exhale. 

I knew that this wouldn’t be enough to completely stop the bleeding, but it was going to have to work for the time being. The navy fabric deepened in color as his blood pooled around it, soaking through it. 

“You shouldn’t worry about me.” He scowled as I pulled him back up to his feet. This time, he was able to apply more pressure on it and gained more stability.  

“Oh yeah? Then who will?” I rebutted, wiping my hands on my tattered uniform. I gave him a sideways glance, tempting him to try and say something else. 

He fell silent at my words, allowing us to continue on our way. Even with the little strength he gained from my bandage, he still placed his arm around my shoulders, keeping me close to his side. Even by this slightest action, I felt a lot safer than a few moments ago. The warmth pooled around my stomach, tightening into knots. A small smile formed at the feeling, bringing me some sort of joy in this hell. 

The further we walked, the stronger the smell of blood got, once again assaulting my nose. My lungs were struggling to gather enough oxygen, it felt as if the blood had coated itself inside of them, making it nearly impossible to get a full breath. I could tell Megumi was feeling the same. His labored breaths came out in short bursts from beside me, which had me worried.  

I knew we were in a Domain of some kind, a rather large and dangerous one. The anxiety that I felt in my stomach had tripled, slowly eating away at my calm demeanor. I knew that Megumi was surely feeling the same, but he had not shown it. His attention was too focused on the unstable ground beneath his feet, occasionally glancing around us for precaution.  

My eyes snapped forward when I finally shook off my dazed thoughts. The amount of bones had multiplied, seemingly appearing from nowhere. I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. The space around us seemed to open up more, my eyes taking notice of a clearing up ahead. A large structure began making its way into my hazy vision, the daunting shadow sending a chill down my back. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to focus, unable to tell due to the distance and fog.  

My attention was turned back onto Megumi, I heard him swear and proceed to stumble on the remnants of animals, or humans. I couldn’t tell. I knew that time was a pressing matter, and it wouldn’t be wise to drag him all the way there in his condition.   

“I’m going to get a better look. You wait here, okay?” I shifted out of his hold, starting to jog in the direction of the unfamiliar structure. 

“Y/N! Slow down! We don’t know what’s out there!” Megumi called after me. 

I ignored his warnings, running faster. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins, compelling my entire body to run. The mere thought of escaping this place was too much for my body to handle. I felt my lungs struggling to suck in the air that my body needed, but I didn’t care. Every breath I drew burned my throat, and every time I smelt the air, I wanted to puke.  

The blood splashed around me as I pumped my legs faster, soaking into my shoes and nearly tripping me. I ignored it, continuing to press on while Megumi shouted after me. I gave him a sideways glance, noticing that he was struggling to keep up. 

“Just wait there! I’ll be right back!” I yelled back, glancing over my shoulder. He had trailed far enough behind me that I didn’t hear the next words he shouted at me.  

My attention returned as I neared the tower. My heart thumped against my ribs, numbing my senses with adrenaline. The air thickened, if that was even possible.

I was closer now, skidding to a stop as I craned my head back to look up. My eyes struggling to adjust due to all of the fog and darkness. I wiped them with the back of my hands, shaking my head in an attempt to alert my senses. 

The haze left my vision, now able to process what was directly in front of me. This wasn’t a tower, building, or exit. It was a pile of bones. My stomach clenched and I covered my mouth, backing away slightly. 

Skulls. Bones. Everywhere. This thing was made of them. There was even more littered on the floor. It towered sloppily, some were burnt, some were old, and some were fresh. I brought my hand up to my nose, which was now stinging with the stench of this place. I continued to back away from the base of it, my eyes following up the makeshift staircase, squinting as I noticed a chair of some sorts. 

Oh, no. 

This wasn’t just a tower of bones. This was a throne. A shrine. 

My eyes widened at the realization, my heart thundering against my chest. “Megumi! Run! Don’t come over here!” I screamed, praying that he would hear me somehow. My mouth hung open in shock, desperately trying to find the words I needed. 

Get out! Run! The voice at the back of my head screamed, but my body refused to listen. 

My legs struggled to keep up with me as I cautiously backed up, feeling like they were filled with lead. As much as I wanted to turn around and run, I couldn't pull my gaze from the vileness of this all. My body buzzed with anxiety, tingling all over. 

“What a little fool you are.” A voice behind spoke, my body jerked at the sound of it, stumbling around to face it. My vision swam at the quick action and I stumbled backwards, falling into the wet ground. 

I flinched, my eyes staying glued on the ground around me, unable to find the courage to face that voice. When I refused to avert my eyes, I noticed a pair of sandals step towards me. I couldn’t find the courage to look up, knowing that if I did, I would be dead. The anxiety I felt manifested itself into pure and utter fear now, compelling my unrelenting body to move. 

Slowly, I moved my eyes up and along the form that was dressed in white robes in front of me. My jaw slacked open, my hands planted beside me to keep me upright as I stared at the King of Curses himself. His red eyes bore into mine, a sinister smirk plastered across his marked face. 

Sukuna. This imposter wore the skin of my best friend, but I found no comfort in being around him. I sucked in deeply as I stared back at him. He was bigger than Itadori, stronger, and faster. His body was taut with muscles, rippling beneath his robes. The black markings covered his face, the two slitted eyes shut tightly as he watched me. This wasn’t my best friend staring down at me, this was a monster. A monster that stood for everything that Itadori was against. Someone, something that stole the life of my best friend. 

“A pretty little fool.” He mused, his eyes glimmering in the darkness. 

A wash of anger flooded through me, a mixture of the pain I felt for Itadori and Sukuna’s condescending words.

“Sukuna.” I hissed. “Let Itadori go.” I demanded, surprising myself with my tone. 

"I didn't give you permission to speak to me so informally now did I?" The king of curses tilted his head to the side to examine my frail body better.

"Let my friend go." I repeated, stubbornly fighting back.

Sukuna’s expression morphed into that of amusement, his back stretching to stand straighter. I, on the other hand, shifted back, leaning fully on my blood soaked palms. My heart raced, the panic beginning to set in, but all I could think of was Itadori. 

“That little brat?” Sukuna remained planted where he stood, his hand coming up to his chin in faux consideration. “No, I don’t think I will.” His smile widened, displaying his unnaturally sharp teeth. 

“Let him go and we won’t bother you ever again.” I gritted, shifting onto my feet now. The blood soaked through my uniform, clinging to my body and dripping down my bare thighs, which didn’t go unnoticed by Sukuna. His eyes flicked down to my body for a moment, then moved back to my face. 

He chuckled. “I have another idea. One you might enjoy more.” 

The grip on my nerves was slipping, telling me that I should run, hide, and find Megumi. Sukuna made no move towards me, but his words frightened me. The threat behind that sentence was enough to make me break out into a sprint around him. 

“Megumi!” I cried, my legs clumsily attempting to keep up with my pace. 

He was on me before I could even think. His arms snaking around me, capturing and caging me against his body in a flash. I cried out, struggling in his vice like grip, squirming violently. His hands lingered on my torso, right beneath my breasts. 

“We haven’t even begun, where are you running to?” Sukuna chuckled, his mouth pressed against the shell of my ear. The blood rushed to the spot where his lips grazed ever so slightly. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to fathom what was happening. My head craned to the side, trying to avoid his hot mouth pressing into my ear. My back was flush against his chest, feeling his chest vibrate with another sinister laugh which got louder, and louder as I shuddered at the sound of it. 

“Open your eyes. Your knight has arrived, little one.” He jeered, his warm breath tickling my cheek. 

My eyes snapped open, despite their unwillingness to obey. My gaze fell upon Megumi, who was wide stanced a few feet away from us. 

“This is going to be so much fun.” Sukuna whispered. 

The urge to run kicked in again and I tried to dive towards him in a panic, but Sukuna’s grip was unrelenting, keeping me stuck to him. A cry left my chapped lips when he jostled me back against his chest, his fingers brushing over my breasts. The feeling of his fingers lingering over the material of my drenched uniform made me whimper, squirming in his grasp. A throaty groan that rumbled from his chest didn’t go unnoticed by me or Megumi, who’s stare hardened.  

“Let her go.” Megumi made a move towards us, cautiously stepping towards the Curse that had me planted against him. 

Sukuna barely moved when Megumi stepped forward, instead, I felt the sharp end of his nail press into the skin on my neck, stilling Megumi’s movements immediately. I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes pleading. Megumi was no match for Sukuna, the difference in their strength was incomparable.  

“I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt her.” He said, realization at the threat registering across his features. Sukuna’s pointed nail skimmed down the side of my neck, slowly making its way between my breasts.  

“Whatever I want, huh? Then why don’t we make a deal? I’m sure we’ll come to an understanding we both enjoy.” Sukuna taunted, his hands trailing down the sides of my waist, his nails just barely brushing against my skin, making the threat known. If I tried to run, he’d gut me with his hands. 

My mouth parted in disgust at his touch, slamming my eyes shut when I could no longer bear the look on Megumi’s face. Sukuna chuckled, enjoying the reaction he was pulling from Megumi, knowing he had struck a nerve by his actions. 

“Stop this.” He demanded. “Let her go now.” Megumi’s eyes were blazing with anger, his fists were clenched at his sides. His calm exposure was slowly unraveling at the sight before him, my eyes remained focused at the ground.  

“Are you deaf? Did you not hear what I just said, brat?” Sukuna shot back, annoyed with Megumi’s ignorance to his proposal. 

“Hand her over and then we will talk.” Sukuna seemed to contemplate Megumi’s proposal, humming to himself in thought.

“Are you worried that I’m going to hurt her?” Sukuna nudged me slightly, his grip strengthening on my shaking body. I nearly stumble back from the slight push, his body keeping me upright when my legs start to shake. 

I forced myself to take a deep breath, willing myself to stop the shaking. 

My eyes met Megumi’s, his stare was hard, eyes glossy as he watched me. He was struggling to contain his anger, it was evident by the way he gritted his teeth when he spoke, and his rigid stance. I had rarely ever seen this side of him, and wished I never would again. My heart shattered as I noticed his bandage gone from his leg, fresh blood dripping down into the sea of dark liquid beneath us. 

“Don’t make a deal with this bastard. Find a way out of here. I’ll be fine.” I broke my silence, pleading with him. Seeing him like this hurt a thousand times more than what Sukuna could do to me, or so I tried to convince myself. 

“Hear that Sorcerer? She doesn’t want you here anymore. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” Sukuna laughed hard, the deep sound of it echoing loudly, temporarily deafening me. 

 His fingers lingered around the hem of my skirt, toying with the ripped material lazily. His head dipped down, pressing against the side of my cheek. I kept my eyes glued on Megumi, watching as his expression shifted to disgust and then back to anger in a flash. 

To prevent Megumi from intervening, I spoke. “Let us both go and we will never bother you again.” I breathed deeply, flinching away from his touch.  

Sukuna hummed once again in consideration, his head tilted into the soft flesh of my cheek. “Deal.” I could feel his smile against the side of my face, his attention returning to Megumi. His brows pulled in as he took a step towards us, as he waited for Sukuna to release me. Something flashed across his face that I barely noticed in time. It couldn’t have been from my expression, which remained blank. It had to be from Sukuna. He did something to make Megumi’s eyes widen.  

“Wait, Y/N!” Megumi shouted, his words falling upon deaf ears.  

My eyes squeezed shut, waiting to wake up from this nightmare, wanting to be back home to Gojo, Nobara and Megumi. I couldn’t stand another second of being in Sukuna’s presence. It was more overwhelming than I could have ever imagined. I prayed silently, my eyes closed firmly as I pleaded internally. My heart fluttered as I swayed slightly, the knot in my stomach slowly dissipating at the thought of being home. 

I was met with silence. The suffocating feeling of Sukuna’s grip was gone. The air had become lighter, the oxygen finally making its way back into my lungs. 

Breathing deeply, I opened my eyes slowly. 

Blood. Bones. Once again filling my vision as the fear crept back into my system, paralyzing me in place. The room was spinning as my head snapped back and forth, my hands coming up to the sides of my head. No . 

“You failed to clarify that I had to let you both go at the same time.” Sukuna sneered, the sound of his voice coming from an unknown location to me. My eyes searched frantically for Megumi, who was nowhere to be found. “Stupid girl.”

“Megumi!” I screamed, my voice cracking.

I stumbled backwards, turning on my heel and making a run for it. Tears blurred my vision as I ran through the thick fog, Sukuna’s laugh echoing in the distance, mocking me. I sobbed harder now, running blindly away from the voice that seemed to come from all directions. I wiped my eyes, the stinging sensation disrupting my vision as I slammed up against something hard. 

I stumbled back, eyes widening when I met the gaze of Sukuna. His head was tilted to the side, staring at me through half lidded eyes, the thick muscles of his arms crossed over his chest. When I slammed into him, he barely flinched, watching me with amusement instead of annoyance. The look on his face was that of enjoyment, the curve of his lips silently telling me to try again. 

And I did just that. 

I retreated back, spinning on my feet and running in the opposite direction. The thickness of the fog once again lined my lungs, making my breaths come out in short gasps as I pumped my legs. The pool of blood beneath me splashed every time my feet slammed into it, staining my skin. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping me from passing out, it clouded my senses. 

The air shifted, the haze that once filled my vision was replaced by the familiarity of that god awful shrine of bones. Confusion spread through me, I had been running in circles? No . He was controlling this. This was his own Domain, he had the power to do whatever he wanted. 

“Have you finished, little one?” Sukuna’s voice was behind me again. 

The hair on the back of my neck stood upright. The muscles in my body pulled tight, freezing me in place, my eyes widened as I began to understand. I turned my back to the bones, returning the heated gaze to Sukuna. His arms were crossed as he watched me with curiosity.

I took a small step back out of fear. Part of me wanted to step forwards and fight, but most of me wanted to keep as much distance between this curse and myself.

“What do you want from me?” The structure behind me provided very little comfort in this situation, knowing that I was caged in like an animal. Grimacing when I realized I had nowhere to go. 

“Now isn’t that a dumb question from a dumb little sorcercer?” Sukuna laughs, loud and sharp and ear piercing, slicing through my confidence within seconds. 

Before I could even react, he was on me. I found myself bent over a broken pedestal, folding in half at the waist. Sukuna’s hand molded against my lower back, keeping me pinned beneath him. A strangled cry left my throat at the sudden movement, barely even registering what he had done until it was too late to run. 

“No!” A strangled cry flew from my lips, cutting through the heavy air. 

Sukuna laughed, his hand placing more pressure against my back when I tried to buck forwards. The force he applied to my back made it harder to breathe, leaving me gasping and coughing for air. My hands planted against the side of the pedestal, trying to push my body upright and away. The smooth stone is a sharp contrast to the roughness of my palms, blood coating the insides of my nail beds. 

“I’ve got you now, pet. There’s nowhere for you to run, no one to help you, no escaping . You’re all mine.” He says. A sick sense of fear builds up in my chest, my nails dig into the rock, attempting to wiggle away from him. 

“Let go of me!” 

“If you keep squirming like that, I’m going to start thinking you want this.” Sukuna’s voice rumbled from behind me, the sound of it sending a shock to my core. 

Nothing came from my throat except a sharp cry, my face contorting in disgust as I futilely attempted to escape. The thought of me even enjoying this made me angry. There was no way. I would never. I could never. He just wanted a reaction out of me. He fed off them. My eyes enlarged when I felt Sukuna’s free hand touch the bottom of my skirt, the flimsy material acting as the only shield between his prying fingers and my inner thighs. 

“Stop!” My shaky hands tried to find him, trying to detach his hands from my thighs. When that didn’t work, I clenched my thighs tightly together, preventing the access that he wanted. This did not seem to deter him, he snorted through his nose, and wedged his thigh between mine, parting them with ease.  

Sukuna ignores me, his hands lifting my skirt, and his fingers proding against my underwear, testing the waters. I shivered, partially due to his cool fingers pressing against my core, and partially due to the fear growing inside my belly. I squirmed in his hold, earning nothing more than a snicker from him. 

“Dry.” He says plainly. “Too bad for you, Megumi isn’t here to help you.” Sukuna sneered. 

My face flushed with embarrassment, mixing with the anger and fear that was already present. My body jolted forwards against the stone when I felt his fingers hook beneath the fabric of my panties, ripping them to shreds with a small amount of force. His hand that held me down shifted, only for a moment, and only to flip me onto my back.  

Half my body dipped off the structure, my legs spreading around his torso as he positioned himself closer to me. My teary eyes met with his lust filled ones, the look on his face was that of a demon. He was a demon after all. His lips pulled back into a smirk, his eyes focused on my face. 

My thighs clenched around his body, attempting to keep him from moving any closer. 

“Get the fuck away from me!” I wailed, nails digging into the skulls beneath me, trying to find the grip to pull myself away. My attempts remained futile, only doing so much as pushing the bones around. 

Sukuna let out a sinister laugh. “Keep fighting me. It turns me on even more.” 

His hands dug into the fleshy part of my thighs, spreading them further apart for him and ramming himself flush to my body. I let out a small whimper at the friction, his clothed erection meeting against the flesh of my pussy for a moment. His fingers dipped back down, my back arched upwards, trying to wiggle away.  

I froze at the sudden feeling of his nail pressing into my cunt, not enough to hurt but enough to make me jump. I looked up at him through tear clumped lashes, my eyes widening. I swallowed back the sickness that threatened to make its way out of my throat, urging myself to keep it under control.   

“I can make this hurt, or I can make this feel good, it’s your choice.” His words were like poison to my ears, embedding the fear further into my stomach. His nail still made its presence known, pressing deeper against my clit. 

“Please.” It sounded more like a question, my eyes searched his amused face, trying to find some sort of trace of humility. 

Sukuna smiled devilishly, bending down towards my stilled frame, and ignoring my pleas. The thick muscles of his back taking my focus, anything to distract myself. I twitched as his nail retracted and he rubbed gently, his thumb rolling in circles, building up the heat inside my core. 

“Your body is reacting so deliciously to me.” He groaned.

I squirmed in his hold, turning my face away. “Please d-.” 

“Don’t stop?” He chuckled.

Sukuna’s head dipped beside my neck, his tongue running along the side of it, leaving a wet, hot trail up to my ear. His breath was warm, a stark contrast to the cool air around us, so much so that I leaned into him. His fingers worked on the sensitive pearl, making me twitch every so often when he hit the right spot. 

His tongue ran back down to my collar bone, leaving another wet trail. My hands planted themselves against his solid chest, pushing aimlessly against it. It rumbled beneath the tips of my fingers with another sick laugh of his. 

“After I’m finished with you, no one will be able to satisfy you ever again.” He spoke. 

Sukuna grunted, his hand leaving my pussy as he wrapped both arms around me, pulling me onto his lap. Instinctively, my legs wrapped around either side of him, out of fear of falling backwards. One arm wrapped tightly around my back, keeping me pressed into him, while the other ripped at the buttons of my top. 

Each one popped open, exposing my chest, another shriek left my lips. My arms draped over the back of his shoulders, gripping onto him tightly for balance. With my shirt being ripped to shreds, this allowed Sukuna access to breasts, his head dipping down slowly. The heat of his mouth on my breast sent me into a frenzy of panic. 

My back arched, my chest pressing into him. His mouth leaves trails of saliva along my chest, kissing all over my flushed skin. My blunt nails dug into his back, trying to cause him any sort of pain in hopes that he would back off. Sukuna barely flinched, instead he groaned at my actions. 

His hips suddenly bucked forward, ramming his erection against my clit. 

“Gah!” My mouth parted at the sudden feeling, my thighs clenched tighter around him, my hips grinding down against the feeling. 

Sukuna’s mouth detached from my nipple, his eyes lazily flicking up to mine, looking at me with a knowing smile. My expression morphed into utter disgust at my body involuntarily reacting to him. His head tilted to the side ever so slightly as he moved his hips again, hitting that exact spot, this time harder and better. 

A groan rumbled from the back of my throat, my head tilting back and my eyes squeezing shut. My hands clenched into his back, trying to relieve the pressure in my body somehow. 

“Look at you. Coming undone when I’ve barely even touched you, like a little whore.” Sukuna's voice oozed. His free hand moved from my breast and down to my core, toying with the soft folds of my pussy. “You’d cum just like this if I let you, wouldn’t you?”  

“Uh-” My mouth opened up in shock. 

His fingers trailed up my slit, my arousal coating his fingers as he rubbed my clit. I could hardly keep myself steady, focusing solely on the heat building up at my cunt. I swayed slightly on his pelvis, Sukuna’s grip on my lower back tightened, keeping me upright. My mouth parted in shock, the pleasure continuing to build up in my core. I found myself grinding against his fingers, desperately trying to find release. 

Sukuna clicked his tongue, a breathless chuckle snapping me back to reality. 

“Feels good doesn’t it? You eager little girl.” 

His hand retracted from my clit, leaving me gasping at the loss of friction. His hands meet at my waist, lifting me off his lap and down onto my back. I started to shift away from him, only to freeze once he shot me a sharp glare. My eyes drop down at his erection, poking through the material of his robes. A darker stain found right above his pelvis, the wetness soaking through. 

Sukuna’s eyes followed mine, noticing the stain as well, his lips carving up to a teasing smile, just like he always adorned when he was toying with me. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, slut .” A flash of heat flickered across my features from his words. 

His hands tore at the fabric of his robes, before discarding it to the side. His cock sprung free, his hand trailing along the shaft, giving a few pumps as he watched me, his red orbs glaring at me like I was his possession. Unable to look him directly in the eyes, I let them roam over his body. Just like his face, black markings covered his arms, shoulders, and stomach. He was equally beautiful and cruel.  

“You should see how you look right now. I just love that look on your face.” Sukuna crooned, falling onto his elbows, caging me beneath him. He was thoroughly enjoying the reactions he was getting from me, knowing that I was completely at his mercy. 

“No. Please. Just-” 

Sukuna’s hands gripped me by my hips, pulling me towards him. The fabric of my skirt bunched up at my waist, exposing myself completely to his hungry gaze. He adjusted himself above me, his hand stroking his cock, slowly lowering himself towards my pussy. My eyes watched in shock, the sheer size of it enough to make my eyes grow wide. 

“Like what you see, hm?” He asked. 

I couldn’t form a single coherent thought, my mind raced as Sukuna’s fingers suddenly cupped my cunt, his middle finger slamming into my core before I could even realize. My head snapped back and my waist lurched forward, bucking into the feeling. My teeth ground down against each other, so tightly that I thought I would shatter them.  

“You can pretend that you don’t want this, but you’re so fucking wet for me. Who knew you’d be such a little slut?” Sukuna’s finger pumped faster, making it harder to contain the sounds that threatened to escape my mouth. 

 The composure that I tried to hold crumbled to pieces when I could no longer stop the sounds from escaping. My eyes screwed shut when I let out a moan, adding even more hatred I had for my reacting body.

“What a pathetic little slut. Do you get off knowing you can’t stop me?” Sukuna’s voice was condescending, his body leering down closer to me. “Does it make you wet to feel so helpless?” He pressed on. 

His free hand moved to cup the side of my cheek, thumb toying with the bottom of my lip. Acting on instinct, I quickly jerked my head down, catching his thumb between my canines and biting down as hard as I could. 

Sukuna barely even flinched when the skin of his thumb broke, blood filling up my mouth. His hand pulled away from my mouth, leaving the warmth with a plop. His blood dripped down the sides of my mouth, slipping down into my hair. I watched as his eyes slowly drifted down to meet my gaze. I felt his finger jerk up inside me, stabbing into the soft flesh of my walls. The pain erupted before I could speak, my words turning into a shrill scream.

“You little bitch. I knew you’d be so much fun.” He laughed, ending it off with a sigh. He examined his thumb, which had already healed. My teeth gritted together, the taste of his blood still lingering on my tongue. He pulled his finger from me after a few agonizing moments, blood mixed with my arousal, dripping down as I anxiously watched him. 

Despite the pain, the loss of contact made my body twitch. 

Sukuna’s hand wrapped itself around my throat, tightening enough to make my mouth hang open in surprise. My eyes bulged, hands immediately shooting up to grasp him. His other hand grabbed onto his cock, running it along my slit, coating himself in my wetness. My mouth hung open, closing every few seconds to swallow the saliva that pooled up. I gripped onto his hand, trying to pry his fingers off. 

“How precious.” He mocked my weak attempts to fight him off. 

The excruciating feeling of my muscles constricting took my focus, my core burning at the sudden intrusion. He entered me with a groan, eyes rolling back as he dropped down onto me. My walls clenched, the searing pain almost unbearable, even with the slick of my pussy. He barely gave me time to adjust before he snapped his hips into mine, the tip of his cock hitting my cervix. 

“Sukuna-” I managed to croak, tapping at his hand. The lack of oxygen was starting to get to me, my vision began to gray and my eyes fluttered. 

His grip on my neck loosened, unexpectedly. Unfortunately, I felt his pace pick up. He pulled away and then slammed back into me, hitting my cervix once again. This time, I screamed, unable to hold it back.  

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle my cock?” He chuckled, his face returning to my line of vision. His red eyes gleamed with amusement as he bared his canines at me. “That’s too bad…” His head dipped closer, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, the flat of his tongue pressed against my lips, lapping up the drying blood. 

My head twisted to the side and I made a sound that came out like a groan and a moan. His tongue leaves a wet trail of saliva across my face, mixing with the blood. I feel his hand leave my throat, gripping hard at my waist instead. 

The thick muscle continued pounding into me. My muscles strained, forcing me to try and relax myself. If I was relaxed, it would hurt less, right? I breathed in deeply, demanding my body to release the tension that was building up. The sound of skin on skin filled the air, making it even harder to control my anxiety. 

“You’re not giving up already, are you?” He taunts in between groans. 

My lips pressed into a thin line, hiding the sounds that sat in the back of my raw throat. I felt the angle of his torso change, spreading my legs open even more, hitting at an angle I didn’t even know was possible. 

“Sukuna, please.” I whimpered, my body jerking from his harsh movements. “It’s too much.” His hips planted against mine, grinding down hard. 

“I want to hear you beg first, slut. Maybe then I’ll let you cum, hm? How does that sound?” His voice dripped with malice. His nails dug into my side, enough to bruise but not draw blood. 

My frantic eyes met with his half lidded ones, watching me to see what I would do. I opened my mouth to respond, but my words were replaced with another cry as he slammed back into that same spot. My hands slapped down against him, hitting him with every ounce of strength that I had left, which did nothing to him, his only response was a small laugh.

“Please! Please! Sl-slow it down.” I mewled beneath him, squirming in his grip. 

My eyes focused hard on his, which twitched with knowing. “I want to hear you say it.” 

I shook my head, another snap of his hips causing my back to lurch. The pain exploded and I sobbed. I felt myself clench around him, trying to push him out in any way that I could. My attempts of forcing him out were fruitless, he only seemed to enjoy it even more. I tried so hard to keep my composure, but it began to dwindle with each thrust. The pain was building up faster than my body could handle. 

I bit hard on my tongue, stopping the whimpers.

“Did you say something?” He ridiculed me. 

His arm hooked under my thigh, raising it up slightly. At this angle, he was even deeper than I ever thought he could go. It hurt so much. Even more than before. His intent was to force me to beg. He wanted me to have no choice but to submit. It was either beg or be split in half. 

“M-ake me-” I stuttered, shaking my head. “Make me cum, please.” I begged, hating the way the words sounded on my tongue. As soon as they left my mouth, I wished that I could take them back. The feeling of humiliation took over, flushing my face from any color. 

He dropped my thigh at my words. 

Sukuna chuckled, his hand moving down to my clit, but not before he leaned back, spitting onto it. I jumped when his saliva hit my clit, the feeling was enough to make me moan. 

“Good girl.” He coos, lessening the force of his thrusts and circling his thumb around my clit. The pain subsided, instead, the warmth flooded back into my core, leaving me throbbing and wiggling in his hold. 

“Such a brave little sorcerer you are. Taking my cock so well. So well .” His words sent another jolt down to my pussy, clenching down on his cock hard. The sounds of wet skin hitting against each other drifted to my ears, red burning at my cheeks. 

“I’m going to ruin you.” His words rang heavy in my ears, his thumb moving quicker, getting me to where I needed to be. My eyes rolled back and I moved my hands to his shoulders, clawing at the tough skin. I grinded my hips down onto his fingers, desperately chasing my own release. The pressure exploding, nothing but a sharp gasp leaving my mouth as my head tilted back. My vision sways as my pussy clenches around him, my nails digging into his skin deeper. 

“Cumming already? Desperate little slut. Putting up such a fight for nothing.” He patronized. 

My head drops to the side, his words falling on deaf ears. Sukuna’s hands moving back up to my waist, tugging me in closer. I feel his cock throb inside me, the pleasure turning quickly into a feeling of overstimulation as he continues to pound into me. 

“No. That’s not true.” I gritted.

“It’s not? You’re not just another dirty slut? Cumming for a fucking curse?” 

His words stung deep, erasing every thought that I had inside my brain within seconds. My face burned bright with a blush, lips pressing into a thin line. My teeth bit down onto my lip when I felt him thrust again, this time not as deep and not as hard.

“You’re such a mess. If only Megumi could see you now, cumming all over me, and wailing beneath me. I bet he’s thought of you like this.” Sukuna looked down at me, another smirk appearing on his face as he taunted me, eyes widened and sadistic. 

I turned my head away from his gaze, only to feel his hand dig into my cheeks, pulling his head back towards me. My lips pursed together, a sly look appearing on his face.  “Oh no. You’re going to watch me, or I’ll dig your eyes out of that pretty little head of yours.” His voice was demanding. 

Everything in my body hurts. My back dug painfully into the rough and uneven ground beneath me, jabbing into sensitive spots whenever I shifted. My muscles began to grow tired, fatigued from the fight and the strain it was being put under. My arms slipped from his shoulders, pressing blindly and weakly against his abdomen. The high from my orgasm was beginning to wear off, the pain was setting back in. 

My eyes remained focused on his, too afraid that he would make word on his threat of tearing my eyes out of my head. I felt another rush of humiliation when his words were processed. 

Sukuna flipped me round, bending me over the pedestal again. My bare stomach and breasts pressed up against the cool surface. It felt good against my sticky skin, cooling my body down slightly. His cock left me for a moment before he lined back up, his hips slamming against my ass. I squealed at the change of position, taken aback by the swift movement and sudden feeling of fullness.

“I’m not finished with you yet.” His voice growled from above me, the flat of his palm finding my lower back again, pressing me further into the smooth stone. My hand shifted back to meet his when the pressure was building too much on my stomach, feeling like he was trying to push me into the stone. 

He grabbed onto my wrist and pinned it against my back, leaving my other hand to support myself as he drilled into me. 

“You’re so fucking tight. Ah-” My knees scraped against the floor, back dipping down. 

With each movement, my arm went further and further up my back, the burn in my shoulder making me scream out. My cheek was pressed uncomfortably against the stone, tears blurring my vision as I stared into the abis. 

Another snap of his hips caused me to bite my lip, holding back the cries that I knew he would feed off of. My muscles were stretched to their max, and I could only pray that he would finish already. I prayed for death. 

I craned my neck slightly, watching as Sukuna kept his gaze on my ass. I started to feel light headed, whether it be from the strain that was being put on my body, or something else, I felt like I was going to pass out. Sukuna barely let up, using his other hand to support my slumped form. 

“S-sukuna. I-” 

His nails dug into my skin. “Don’t pass out on me yet. I have no intentions on fucking a corpse, that would be boring.” 

I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut as he continued fucking me. His pace did not let up, bruising my cervix with each thrust. The feeling of his fingers back on my clit made me snap back into reality, my hips squirming against his fingers, desperately trying to find some pleasure to relieve the pain. 

“That’s it.” He grunted, his movements growing stronger with need, the need to find his own pleasure. 

“Oh, god.” I moaned, back bowing down to get closer to him. 

Sukuna snickered, his fingers picking up the pace at my body's response to him. He released the grip on my arm, seeing that I was no longer fighting back. Instead, I felt both his hands plant on my waist, fucking me even harder. With this angle, I could feel every inch of his cock inside me, filling me up completely. 

“So needy. Are you going to cum again for me?” His words sent me over the edge, my orgasm hitting even harder than the first one. My body clenched and my eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open in pleasure. Sukuna gripped me harder, his movements beginning to slow as I felt the hot rush of his own orgasm filling me up. The deep groan of his own release deepened the feeling of my orgasm, fueling it even more. 

I remained still against the pedestal when he pulled out of me, my body unable to move from exhaustion. The muscles in my body were strained and sore, even breathing was starting to hurt. My eyes fluttered closed, slowly slipping down to the ground beneath me. I could faintly hear Sukuna laughing behind me, shuffling for his robes. 

I barely heard him step near me until my eyes opened, his form crouched beside me. It took every ounce of strength in me to narrow my eyes at him, my jaw clenching down. 

“Ah, don’t give me that look. It makes me want to fuck you again.” He purred, his hand reaching out to wipe away a strand of hair. “Don’t you want to see your friend again?”

My eyes snapped open at his words. “Itadori?” 

Sukuna tutted, his head turning to focus beneath us. I slowly followed his gaze, noticing a small figure in the distance, closing in on us. My reddened eyes strained in the general direction, narrowing in focus. That raven coloured hair made my heart jump, followed by my body launching towards his direction. I no longer cared about the pain in my body, it slowly turned into numbness when I saw him.  

“Megumi!” I wailed as I got up to my feet, pushing away from Sukuna. 

Sukuna caught me before I could get away from him. “Ah, ah, ah.” His chest rubbed against my back. I squirmed once again in his hold, watching as Megumi stood rigid a few feet in front of us. His fists were clenched in a tight white grip, his eyes set hard as he scanned over us.

“You bastard.” Megumi’s voice was rough.

Sukuna ignored him, instead he leaned beside my ear. “I’ll be seeing you again.” 

He gave me a light shove towards my friend. My feet stumbled, barely able to support the weight of my body. I took shaky steps towards Megumi, my hands fumbling to pull down my skirt. My face burned with humiliation as I crashed into his arms. The warmth of his body was comforting, but not enough to stop my shaking. He tried to cover me with the best of his abilities, his grip was tight around my waist. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Megumi hissed.     

[emotionalmessss]

Spider caught in your web.

[emotionalmessss]

my bleach obsession coming back again cuz of the new eps lmfao

[emotionalmessss]

Sukuna Headcanon: Feelings

A/N: here's a little headcanon for Sukuna, because I haven't written for him in forever lol. Basically, Sukuna develops a crush on Yuji's friend. Idk, this was stuck in my head for a while so why not. And I love somewhat soft Sukuna. Unedited and not beta read, sorry for any mistakes!

Warnings: violence, mention of blood, emotional and psychological abuse, some non-con elements (mostly touching and shit), unhealthy relationships. Sukuna is kinda soft-ish, but still a fucking sadistic prick.

Never in a million years would Sukuna imagine developing a fucking crush on you. He doesn’t care (except for himself and Uraume). He doesn’t love. He doesn’t have feelings. And he definitely doesn’t waste his time on insignificant humans. Especially human sorcerers who happen to be friends with that brat Yuji. Why waste his precious time on lesser beings? 

Sukuna tells himself it’s just boredom. That’s all it is. Being trapped inside Yuji’s body is tedious—and borderline demeaning for someone like the King of Curses—so why wouldn’t he amuse himself with you? You’re around Yuji often, constantly lingering around that brat like an insect that just won’t die. 

Not that Sukuna would ever admit it, but he finds you the least annoying out of Yuji’s friends. Tormenting Yuji and his friends has always been one of the many ways Sukuna entertains himself. But it became even more enjoyable when you came along. Of course, Sukuna would be his usual self. He’d mock, taunt, threaten, and laugh at you. Because why not? It’s fun. 

Sukuna thrives off the fear and chaos he causes. And most of the time, just his name alone is enough to have sorcerers and curses fearing for their lives. You’re no different. 

Except, there is something about you that is different. Sukuna’s been watching you from the very beginning—from the moment you popped into Yuji’s life. Probably debating whether or not he should kill you or toy with you, probably both. Or maybe use you against Yuji? He especially enjoys needling Yuji about you. It’s just too easy to get under that brat’s skin.

“How’s your little pet today, brat? Still breathing?” Sukuna’s voice slithers through Yuji’s mind, condescending and intrusive. It’s not really a question because he already knows the answer. He’s been watching the whole time. As much as he despises watching Yuji fumble around you like a pathetic, horny teenager, there’s really nothing he can do about it.

“Shut up.” Yuji groans back, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temples. As if that would deter the curse living inside him to fuck off. It won’t.

Whatever the reason is, Sukuna spends a lot of time watching you, more than anyone else. 

Sukuna calls you pet names, and they’re almost always mocking. Little thing. Pet. Brat. He’s such a dick. He refuses to call you by your actual name unless it’s to make a point. And when he does? It’s slow, deliberate—like he’s savoring the way it sounds.

Of course, Sukuna wouldn’t be Sukuna if he didn’t take control of Yuji’s body at the worst possible times. When he does manage to manifest temporarily, he makes sure it’s whenever you’re around.

“Studying hard, are we?” The voice that suddenly slips from Yuji's lips is nothing like his. It's lower. Rougher. Coated in mockery and fucked up amusement. It's almost laughable—almost—how oblivious you are, so absorbed in whatever pointless little textbook you've got your nose buried in. “What a good little sorcerer you are.” The words drip from his smirking mouth like poison, sweet and condescending, meant to belittle, meant to sting.

Sprawled across the floor, you freeze instantly, the textbook you were reading just moments ago suddenly slips from your trembling grasp and lands with a soft thud.

Sukuna doesn’t sit up immediately, content with just watching you from Yuji’s reclined position. He lounges in the brat’s body like it’s his throne, sprawled lazily across the dorm bed, one arm slung behind his head, the other resting carelessly along his stomach. His eyes—Yuji's eyes, but not—are half-lidded and dark as he examines you up close for the first time.

For Sukuna, it’s almost fun to appear unexpectedly. There's something so delicious about the way your whole body tenses, the way your pretty eyes widen the second you realize it's him. He will never admit it, of course, but he adores your reactions when he manifests. No warning, no build up—just that subtle shift in posture, the change in voice. Being confined to his vessel's body is tiresome, infuriating, and beneath him. So when he gets the chance to claw his way to the surface, even for a moment, he takes it.

It's not always about violence—though the temptation is always there, testing his control. He could easily grab you and slam you against the wall. Would you scream? Probably. Would you fight? Absolutely—but not well enough. He could almost feel you struggling in his arms, your body twisting and squirming as he pins you down with ease. He could almost hear your pretty voice crack as you scream and beg.

But with you… it's more complicated. With you, he’s more restrained. Killing you would be too quick and easy. No. He’ll take his time with you, making sure he enjoys every second. He doesn't hurt you when he takes control. Not much, at least.

But at some point, things started to change. He started noticing too much, watching you too much, thinking about you too much, looking forward to seeing you too much. It’s infuriating and confusing. Why does he find himself actually paying attention when you speak? Why does he get nervous when you’re on an assignment? Why doesn’t he just kill you and be done with it? He’s had multiple opportunities. And why does his chest burn when Yuji flirts with you? 

And that’s when the frustration sets in. Sukuna despises this unfamiliar feeling.

Honestly, Sukuna isn’t stupid. He knows exactly what he’s feeling, he just refuses to acknowledge it.

In the end, I highly doubt Sukuna would ever admit to having feelings for you, nor would he change his behaviour too much. Don’t expect him to be all mushy and shit. That’s just not his style. But there would be some signs…. 

The signs would be subtle. The last thing he—and his pride—needs is people thinking he’s gone fucking soft. 

He gets quiet when you're speaking. Not out of politeness—he just wants to listen. He'll go silent inside Yuji's head, letting your voice wash over him. He memorizes your cadence, the words you use, the way your voice changes when you talk to other people. And when you talk to Yuji? He listens too closely.

Sukuna started watching you much more often. He finds himself paying extra attention whenever you’re around Yuji, and actually listening when you speak. For once, he’s not thinking about killing or toying with you—he’s just….observing you.

He notices everything about you. The way your nose scrunches adorably when you smile, the way your laughter makes his stomach twist in an unfamiliar way—he remembers every little detail about you, and he hates himself for it.

Whenever you’re on missions or assignments, Sukuna watches you even closer, especially whenever you’re around other curses. Again, he chalks it up to just being boredom, considering he’s stuck inside Yuji and all. But in reality? He doesn’t want you to get hurt. He doesn’t want anyone else touching you, or even coming near you. Just the thought of it makes him livid—not because someone threatened a weak sorcerer. But because they threatened you.

There was one time where you did get injured by another curse on an assignment, and Sukuna lost all composure.

Sukuna rarely steps in, even when Yuji is in danger, preferring to sit back and watch the sufferings of others. He’s selfish. Stepping in to save someone doesn’t serve his purposes. He doesn't protect people—ever. But the moment you were injured, the line was crossed. He forcibly manifested, motivated more than ever to gain control. The curse that attacked you doesn’t stand a chance against him. He’s more unhinged than usual. He doesn’t torture the curse for his own sadistic enjoyment—not this time. Instead, he barely wastes any time ripping it apart and then checking on you. 

“Pathetic.” He sneers down at your crumpled form, not bothering to wipe the blood off his scowling face. It’s difficult to tell if the insult is meant for you or for the curse he just sliced in half. Still, his tone is considerably less….biting than usual. 

Languidly, he crouches beside you, eyes roaming your body with detached curiosity. But something flickers in his crimson gaze—brief, almost undetectable. But it’s there. Concern? Rage? Whatever it is, it makes his glare falter, and his scowl deepen.

“Hurt, brat?” The taunting pet name rolls off his tongue, softer than he would've liked. His gaze shifts between your face and the gash along your side, silently assessing the damage while trying—and failing—to appear indifferent. Like the fact that you’re actively bleeding out doesn’t concern him in the slightest. But the sight does bother him. Deeply.

A low sound rumbles in his throat as he suddenly scoops you into his arms—a growl caught somewhere between annoyance and... something else. Frustration? Worry? Who fucking knows. “If you die from something this trivial, I’ll be disappointed.”

Sukuna doesn’t stop taking control of Yuji when you’re around. But when he first started feeling something deeper for you, he wasn’t around as much. It’s odd, especially since he’s always sought to control Yuji, and has been known to appear at random times. He’s probably been stewing somewhere in his domain, sitting on the mountain of bones as he tries to figure out what the fuck is wrong with him. He’s not fully manifesting, not always. But his presence is there, lurking.

When he takes control of Yuji, he doesn’t threaten or intimidate you outright like he did before. No. Instead, he’s just kinda… there. Almost like he enjoys just being near you. Still, he doesn’t completely stop messing with you—he’s got a reputation to uphold, after all. His threats become empty, more like teasing. More like taunts.

“Keep talking like that, and I'll carve that pretty mouth of yours shut.”

“Am I interrupting something important?” He drawls mockingly, tilting his head and flicking his nails as he tries to appear uninterested. Like whatever you were doing wasn’t even worth his time or energy. “You looked so focused, brat. So serious. And now you look like you’re about to piss yourself.” 

He starts to manipulate Yuji's sleeping patterns, taking control in the dead of night just to watch you sleep. Why? He himself doesn’t even know why. Maybe it's the way you look so unaware. So peaceful. Unlike the pure terror you display when he’s around when you’re awake.

Not that you could notice, but Sukuna doesn’t taunt Yuji about you as much. Not like he used to. The smug remarks, the crude innuendos, the threats laced with amusement—they've slowed, thinned out, almost like he's holding them back. Almost like it's not funny anymore. Because every time he sees Yuji laugh with you, or hears you say his name with that stupid softness in your voice, it sparks something ugly in him. Something terrifyingly possessive.He doesn't want to talk about you—or even think about you for that matter. Not to Yuji. Not when it means acknowledging that you spend more time with that pathetic brat than you ever will with him. So instead of mockery, there's silence. Cold, simmering silence. And if Yuji ever notices the shift, he's smart enough not to say a word.

[emotionalmessss]

hope you’re well ♥️ may i request a headcanon where yan!chrollo’s partner escaped but when he confronts them (or however you write it-it’s up to you!) they are really remorseful like “i knew i shouldn’t have left” on their own volition? thank you! ♥️

A/N: ouu, I really like this idea. I can never say no to Yan!Chrollo lol. I’d be more than happy to answer, and I’ll try my best! Thank you for the request, enjoy! :) (this ended up much longer than I expected)

Warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy/forced relationship, stalking, implied kidnapping, kinda implied non-con, psychological abuse, hardcore manipulation. chrollo is a dick.

Chrollo is no saint, but he definitely has the patience of one–though only to a certain extent. With you, however, he seems to have all the fucking patience in the world. Because of Chrollo’s emotionally complex nature, I kind of feel like it’s difficult for him to form emotional attachments, especially with those outside the Troupe. Connections have never really been a priority for Chrollo, nor do they come easily to him. But, with you, it’s different. You’ve always stood out, and his relationship with you is something that he treasures deeply. In his own twisted way.

Ever since Chrollo first laid eyes on you, he’s been utterly fascinated–a reaction that probably confused him at first, considering his interests usually only involve the wellbeing of the Troupe, books, and stealing valuable objects and Nen abilities. Chrollo has utilized all his available resources to gather as much information about you as possible, spending countless hours studying every single aspect of your life. Say goodbye to your privacy because there’s no such thing when it comes to Chrollo. And sure, a few members of the Troupe probably found Chrollo’s behavior unusual, but they knew better than to question the boss.

Chrollo might be completely infatuated with you, but he’s not blind to how difficult the situation is for you–he is well aware of human nature, and even more familiar with you. In fact, he completely understands your struggles. But, does that mean he’s going to let you go? Fuck no. As far as captors go, Chrollo has been incredibly lenient with you, hoping that you’d eventually realize that there is no one else in the world that could cherish you the way he does. And when you escaped from him, you betrayed that sliver of trust he gave you.

Your escape was successful, congrats. Managing to slip past Chrollo’s defenses was a challenge in itself–and you should be proud–not everyone can outsmart the head of the Spider. But, that’s just the beginning, don’t celebrate just yet. Surely, you’ll have to deal with a fuck load of complications, like starting your life over from scratch, fending for yourself, constantly watching your back, and maybe, just maybe, going as far as adopting a completely new identity. Things couldn’t get any more complicated, could they? Oh, they can and they will. 

It wouldn’t be long before you started to doubt and question everything–your thoughts, your feelings, your emotions, your choices, and most importantly, Chrollo. You might’ve thought you had the upper hand, but somehow, for some fucking reason, Chrollo always has the last laugh. Chrollo would never allow himself to show it, but he would definitely feel slightly irritated with the situation and your behavior. You actually had the audacity to run away from him? Have you forgotten who he is and what he's capable of? It’s not very often that someone would defy him, and part of him secretly applauds your pathetic–yet somewhat amusing–actions. Did you truly believe that he wouldn’t be able to find you again? 

I’d imagine that Chrollo probably saw your sudden absence as nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Annoying? Yes. Unexpected? No. Would he have expected you to be remorseful after escaping? Not entirely. Fortunately for him–and unfortunately for you–Chrollo knows you very fucking well. So well, in fact, that he’s become really good at predicting not only your next moves, but also what goes on in your head. He knew it wouldn’t take long for your mind to overwhelm you–that fresh start of yours isn’t feeling all that fresh anymore, is it? 

Chrollo wouldn’t go find you right away, no, he’d let you struggle for a bit before he made a move. The Troupe would probably question their boss’ somewhat unusual approach to the situation, but they wouldn’t push their luck–they knew better than to risk overstepping any boundaries, especially when it involves you and Chrollo. Just because his love for you is fucked up unconventional doesn’t mean he’s going to act impulsively to get you back, that's not how Chrollo operates, his methods are much more refined and efficient than that. 

But, that doesn’t mean Chrollo won’t be thinking of you. You’re always on his mind. He’d deny it, but the mental image of you–somewhere far away and stressed out, trying to move on with your life–was oddly satisfying. Some might say that’s cruel, but Chrollo sees it as conditioning. And Chrollo is a master manipulator. He may appear relatively passive on the outside, but you should never underestimate him. I feel like nothing is off-limits with Chrollo, and he’ll do anything and everything to make it impossible for you to leave him. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. So, it's really not much of a surprise that you’re remorseful about running away. That’s exactly what he planned. 

From the very beginning, Chrollo has been subtly manipulating and conditioning you, instilling doubt and dependency within you. He’d isolate you from the outside world and from the other people in your life, both physically and emotionally. He kept you by his side, never allowing you to stray too far. Even when you thought you were alone, he was watching. He gave you the illusion of freedom–a door that was occasionally left unlocked, access to his entire apartment, the opportunity to go outside, but only with him. He’d make you question the relationships you had with everyone that wasn’t him, slowly turning you against them. Do they actually care about you? Do they actually understand you like he does? Those were his ways of making sure there was nobody else you can interact with, forcing you to become dependent on him for everything.

Chrollo wouldn’t stop there. There were times when he would let his guard down, allowing you to see moments of vulnerability. He would tell you things–his past, his thoughts–enough to make you believe there was more to him than the monster you feared. When you eventually opened up to him about your own thoughts, he’d listen. He always listened so fucking carefully. He made you feel like he understood you better than anyone else ever had, or ever could.

And it all paid off in the end. For him, at least.

It’s almost been two months without Chrollo and surprisingly, it doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would. In fact, your newfound freedom feels fucking horrible. It doesn’t make sense–you should be thrilled that you’ve managed to escape after being held captive for one year. You had planned this escape for months, spending countless nights going over it again and again in your head until it was foolproof. It worked, yet you were far from satisfied.

Feeling more than a little conflicted about your state of mind, you move to sit on the couch in your living room. The old, faded piece of furniture creaks beneath your weight as you settle into the cushions. It felt cold and unfamiliar. The couch was probably older than you–faded, torn, and pilling–unlike the expensive plush one that Chrollo has. That one felt warm and familiar. Anxiously, you stir your half drank cup of coffee and take a sip, grimacing slightly. Even his fucking coffee was better than yours. 

This new life was supposed to be a fresh start, but instead, it was a constant reminder of everything you left behind. It seems that no matter how hard you try, you just can’t get Chrollo out of your mind. Every little sound–footsteps, doors opening–sent you into fight or flight mode, always on edge. It felt like you were living with a shadow that was slowly closing in, but you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to run away from it. Fear, longing, and resentment were just a few of the emotions you’ve learned to cope with, but it never got any easier. 

Part of you missed the late night, deep conversations, the way he listened intently, as if your words were the most important thing in the world. Now, your nights are restless, haunted by constant nightmares involving a certain raven haired man. Maybe it's Stockholm syndrome? There’s no way to be sure–therapy costs money, and you aren’t exactly rolling in it. Your hands tremble as you place the mug down, spilling the dark liquid all over the side table. Still trapped in your mind, you get up from the shitty couch and head towards the kitchen, moving to grab a rag to clean up the equally shitty coffee. 

A small creak from behind catches your attention, making you pause momentarily to glance over your shoulder. Like countless other times, there's nothing there. Maybe you don’t even need a psych to diagnose you, since you’re already going insane. Sighing, you grab the rag and start walking back toward the living room. 

“A bit late for coffee, is it not?” The smooth sounding voice instantly makes you freeze in place, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with a rush of emotions. There’s a certain lightness in his tone that’s not usually present–it’s almost like he’s teasing yet chiding you. Either way, you weren’t going to concern yourself with the semantics.

It feels like your body has been completely paralyzed. Yet, somehow, you manage to summon the courage to slowly turn your gaze towards the source of the voice, finding it at the front entrance of your apartment. What you see is enough to make you feel faint, your head spinning and your stomach dropping like a stone–it’s Chrollo, looming in the doorway, his large eyes focused solely on you as a soft, enigmatic smile plays on his lips. Unconsciously, a whimper escapes your lips and your mind suddenly kicks into overdrive, frantically attempting to process the overwhelming reality of what’s happening. All those conflicting thoughts from moments ago flood back into your mind.

You find yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the relief of finally seeing him again and the chilling fear of what this unexpected encounter might bring. You had started a new life here, a life that was simpler, quieter, more peaceful. But as you stand there, facing Chrollo and the flood of memories he brings, you can't help but question–was it truly peace? You must’ve only been standing there–stuck in your thoughts–for a few minutes, but Chrollo seems to notice your dazed state and decides to speak up again, effectively snapping you back to reality. 

“May I come in? We have so much to discuss.” Chrollo says, his voice as gentle and as reassuring as you remember. Without waiting for your response, he's already stepping across the threshold and moving into your apartment, making his way toward the living room. His approach is calm and measured. It’s almost as if he’s been in your apartment a thousand times before, and as if he has all the time in the world. Rooted to the spot, your hand trembles as you clutch the damp rag, watching as Chrollo takes your previously occupied seat on the couch.

“Chrollo?” You find yourself whispering, your voice barely more than a shaky exhale, hesitant and filled with uncertainty. Saying his name after the silence of these past months feels strange, foreign, but oddly enough, you find yourself not hating it. Chrollo doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, his gaze remains fixed on you as he sinks deeper into the couch, leaning back casually and letting his hands rest on top of his thighs. The silence stretches on, lingering too long, and a part of you believes he’s doing it on purpose. 

“You seem troubled,” Chrollo observes, his dark eyes softening a fraction. “Come, sit. Let’s talk.” He insists softly, tilting his head toward the empty spot next to him on the couch, a silent command for you to join him. Despite his calm demeanor, it’s quite clear that he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He won’t deny it–your little escape was mildly infuriating. But he wasn’t entirely without compassion–at least, that’s what he liked to believe.

Your chest tightens painfully at his words, each breath feeling like a struggle, as if your lungs are refusing to expand. Your vision blurs as tears gather, threatening to spill over at any moment. You’ve reached your breaking point–the emotions you’ve been painstakingly avoiding have finally surfaced. The ache of remorse gnaws at you, a torrent of regret and guilt that you've been desperately trying to suppress. You open your mouth to respond–to say something, anything at all–but find yourself choking pitifully on a sob, no words coming out. 

The tears start to fall, pouring down your cheeks as you stumble blindly toward the couch, dropping the rag on the ground and barely registering the resigned sigh that Chrollo lets out. You plop down onto the couch next to Chrollo, feeling utterly pathetic about your current state. Not even a second later, Chrollo’s arm slips behind your back and wraps securely around your waist, pulling your trembling body toward his. You don’t fight it, instead allowing your face to bury into the comforting warmth of his chest, while his hand gently cradles the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat over and over again, your voice cracking as you sob into his chest. 

Chrollo’s quiet again, the silence only broken by your sniffles and unsteady breaths. His fingers thread soothingly through your hair, softly shushing you. “You’re okay, I’m right here,” he reassures, his voice stripped of its usual firmness, now softer, gentler, almost tender. His expression remains unreadable as he looks down at you, his eyes revealing nothing of thoughts that are undoubtedly coursing through his mind right now. Internally, however, he feels a tinge of satisfaction upon hearing your apologetic pleas. Maybe things can go back to the way they were, or maybe they'll morph into something new, something better. 

There’s another pause, a moment where he lets you compose yourself. He doesn't mention your escape, or the remorse you've shown–not just yet. In truth, Chrollo is not the least bit surprised by your emotional spiral. He knows you well enough to understand that this is not merely a reaction to his relentless pursuit and eventual discovery of your whereabouts. No, this is an entirely different kind of response, one born out of internal conflict.

If it were any other man in this position, they might have felt guilty for putting you through so much torment. But Chrollo is not ‘any other man.’ Far from it. As he watches you break down in his arms, he doesn’t feel any guilt. He doesn’t see your suffering as something he should apologize for. Why would he? For Chrollo, he sees this as a necessary consequence of the bond he’s carefully created. And he can see that you’re finally starting to understand.

During your time together, Chrollo had a way of making you question everything. Slowly but surely, he instilled a sense of doubt and dependency within you. It was never obvious. That wasn’t his style. 

He had a way of making you believe that the outside world was cruel and dangerous. Every time he caught you looking at the door, he’d remind you–without even needing to say a word–that he was the only one who could truly protect you. A raised brow and slight tilt of his head was more than enough to remind you of everything he had told you before. He was never threatening about it, he didn’t need to be. A simple look from him was all it took for you to hesitate, to second-guess walking out that door. 

Would it really be better out there than here? Could you really handle Yorknew City? Surely, there were people out there much worse than him, right? People who wouldn’t think twice about taking advantage of someone like you. You could imagine it so vividly: faceless men with rough hands that wouldn’t give a shit about you, your struggles, or your pleas. They’d only see you as a pretty little thing to use. Chrollo never said it outright, but the implication was always there: he wasn’t like them. His touches, though somewhat unwelcome and borderline possessive, were never violent. 

At least with Chrollo, you knew the rules and boundaries–his rules and boundaries. And he never lied to you, not really. The world really was dangerous. There really were people out there who would hurt you. He made sure that you believed he was the best choice. And who else was there for you, really? Not your friends, the ones he slowly convinced you that they didn’t care as much as they claimed. Not your family, who couldn’t possibly understand the complexity of your situation. No, it was just Chrollo. He wasn’t the monster you wanted him to be. He was something far worse: he was everything you didn’t know you needed. And that was much more fucking terrifying.

Finally pulling himself from his thoughts, Chrollo decides that he’s made you suffer in silence for long enough. “You should not have tried to escape, [name],” he says, his voice gentle but carries a clear note of criticism and disappointment. He deliberately uses your name, refraining from the endearing nicknames he usually employs. It's a subtle punishment, a way to remind you of your mistakes. He knows exactly what kind of impact it has on you–how the distance it creates makes you feel small, like a reprimanded child. “Predictably, it didn’t end well.” His tone is soft, almost conversational.

Chrollo pauses again, his fingers suddenly halting their soothing rhythm in your hair. Abruptly, he withdraws the comforting contact, depriving you of the warmth you didn’t even realize you’d come to depend on. You can’t stop yourself from tensing in his arms, struggling to stifle a choked sob. You can’t see it–not with your teary face buried in his chest–but there’s a faint curl of his lips, a flicker of satisfaction at your reaction. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. He lets out a deep, exaggerated sigh, his hand pulling away from your scalp completely. Now it rests on the frayed backrest of the couch, lazily tracing patterns on the rough fabric. 

“Running… it doesn’t suit you.” The words are so plain, so final. It's not suggestion or opinion, but a fucking fact. It’s the way he always spoke to you, as if he knew you better than you knew yourself. “It only leads you to pain and suffering. Surely, you’ve realized that by now?” There is no anger or frustration in his voice, just that same steady, disorientating calm that makes you second-guess everything. He speaks as if this entire situation is simply an inconvenience to him, which makes it near impossible to decipher his true thoughts and feelings. 

And then, Chrollo gently but firmly tilts your head up, leaving no room for you to resist him. Not like it would do you any good. Forcing you to meet his gaze, he studies you intently, his dark eyes partially shielded by the strands of raven hair that fall across his pale face. “You’re an intelligent woman,” he murmurs, and for some reason, it felt more like he was mocking you rather than giving you a genuine compliment. “I’m certain that you can grasp the situation.” As he speaks, his grip on your face tightens significantly, hinting at the threat that lies beneath his words. It’s his little way of telling you that you should know better.  

You wince as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your jaw, more out of surprise than pain. The pressure isn’t unbearable, but it’s enough to remind you of his control. You don’t have much faith in your ability to form a coherent sentence right now, not when your throat feels tight and your thoughts are a jumbled mess. Instead, you nod in response, hoping it’s enough. 

Chrollo’s eyes flicker with approval, and maybe a hint of amusement. It’s impossible to be sure with him. He releases your jaw as he lets out a satisfied hum of acknowledgement, now wiping away a few stray tears from your damp cheeks. The gesture should feel comforting, but instead, it leaves you feeling hollow, like being soothed after a punishment you never deserved. “Good girl.” The praise rolls off his tongue easily, but there’s no warmth in it. “You’re emotional,” he says, almost to himself. “But you’ll understand in time.”

“It’s time to go home. We’ll continue this conversation later,” He adds, reminding you that this matter is far from resolved.

[emotionalmessss]

Hiii! Can I request yandere Chrollo when reader tries to escape? Hc? Fic? If you want 🥰

A/N: I feel like I haven't written anything in so long (school is going to be the death of me I swear). I'm trying to be more active with my writing now that I've officially graduated, I'm sorry for ghosting! Anyways, enjoy Yan!Chrollo :)

Warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy/forced relationship, implied kidnapping, slight mention of violence and non-consensual touching, and psychological abuse. Chrollo is basically a warning himself lol.

Chrollo is always one step ahead. After all, he is the head of the Spider, so if you think you can escape from him--good fucking luck. He is cunning, meticulous, and devoted to having you back where you belong--in his arms. But that doesn't stop you from trying, does it?

Congratulations for managing to slip through his fingers, but it won't stay that way for long. There is nowhere in the world for you to hide from Chrollo, he will hunt you down using whatever means that will ensure his success. So, enjoy the freedom while it lasts, because it won't last very long.

Sure, Chrollo might be slightly ruffled at the fact that you actually managed to escape. But will he let that affect his calm composure? No, definitely not. Chrollo plays the long game, and he does it best. And who's to say that he didn't intentionally let you escape? To give you that brief, sweet taste of freedom, only to rip it away at the last second?

Chrollo’s expression remains impassive as he lounges on the plush couch in the middle of his expansive living room. Reclining comfortably into the cushions, he folds one leg over the other while using one hand to flip through the book in his lap. He is perfectly aware of your absence from the apartment--how could he not notice when the air lacks the usual animosity that only you can bring? 

Despite the apartment lacking its usual vibrancy, Chrollo remains calm and composed, a trait that has always irked you. His composure never slips, even now. He finds it pitifully endearing that you thought you could outsmart him--have you learned nothing? Chrollo doesn’t know if he wants to praise you for your bravery or laugh at your naivety. 

Sighing, he stretches his legs out across the coffee table, idly smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles on his dress shirt. You thought escape was an option? How quaint. His lips curl into a faint, knowing smirk; his predictions had been correct--like always. While Chrollo can’t deny that he finds your actions mildly irritating, they are more entertaining than anything else--not that he’d ever show it.

“It’s intriguing, really, how you thought you could just slip away from me,” Chrollo mutters to himself, his voice measured and almost serene. His big, gray eyes finally look up from the antique book in his lap, drifting towards the large window that offers a view of Yorknew City’s skyline. Somewhere out there, you’re hiding, and he can clearly picture the mixture of relief, fear, and paranoia etched on your pretty face. 

He taps his fingers on the armrest of the couch--the only sign that his mind is working in overdrive. Clicking his tongue thoughtfully, Chrollo tilts his head back down to the book resting on his thighs. Running a hand through his raven locks, he lets out a hollow chuckle, quickly followed by a deep sigh. For now, he’d let you play your little game, but in the end, you would not win.

Just like everything else, Chrollo's response will be chilling and methodical. As the head of the Spider, he'll use all the resources he has to get his love back. But for the time being, he will let you enjoy your little game. He's more than confident you'll be back where you belong. Make sure to keep looking over your shoulder every so often, he won't be far behind.

Chrollo will have you back in his grasp, no matter how much you kick, cry, and scream. He will remain unflinchingly composed, acting as though you were merely a small animal that needed to be handled with gentle care. The entire time, he'll have that small, almost invisible smile tugging at his lips--that smile that you've come to hate and suggests bad things for you.

Once he finds you--if he hasn't already been watching you the entire time--he'll strike when the time is right, and when the circumstances align in his favour. He won't be openly aggressive, definitely not towards you. Chrollo will take a different route, one that involves planning, scheming, and manipulation.

Consequences? Oh, there has to be some consequences for your disobedience. But, Chrollo would never lay a violent hand on you. No, that's not his style. He could never physically hurt his love. He can hurt you in other ways, though. Friends and family? That's a whole other story. Chrollo being Chrollo, will do whatever it takes to ensure you comply. Only if he's pushed to that point.

In Chrollo's twisted mind, he is protecting you from the dangers of the world--like a good lover should. He firmly believes that the only place for you to be happy and safe is by his side. He'll manipulate you into believing that you need him, and that even the thought of escaping is utterly impossible.

You’ve been sprinting through the empty streets of Yorknew City for hours, and no matter how far you run, you can’t seem to shake the terror that threatens to swallow you whole. At this point, your feet sting, your lungs burn, and your mind is a jumbled fucking mess--is this what insanity feels like or has Chrollo corrupted you so much? Neither of those reasonings are favourable, but you’d probably choose insanity over Chrollo. 

Frantically, you examine your surroundings as you come to a stop, panting and keeling over. You sluggishly move towards the corner of a large building, slumping back against the bricks and wipe the glistening sweat from your forehead. This is Hell, isn’t it? Clutching your chest, your mind races with a slew of possibilities; different escape routes, places to hide, and potential consequences should you get caught. 

What would the reincarnation of the Devil himself do to you if he were to catch you? Would he hurt you? The odds of Chrollo physically hurting you are slim, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t harm you in other ways. Despite spending an unwilling amount of time with him, you could never fully understand the bastard. You weren’t entirely sure if that was a blessing or a curse. 

“Get it together, fuck.” Your voice comes out strained and raspy as you forcefully compose yourself, shoving off from the wall to round the corner of the building. Every detail about that man pisses you off--his calculated mannerisms, his unflinching composure, his studying eyes that make you feel like he’s staring into your soul, and that god-awful smile that never looked genuine. 

Just when you soothe your chaotic mind and turn the corner of the building, he appears before you. Your heart plummets, and your feet drag across the pavement as you abruptly halt, completely paralyzed under his scrutinizing gaze. You watch him like a cornered animal, prepared to flee at the slightest sign of malice. But, of course, there is none--perfectly expected from a man like Chrollo. 

“My dear,” Chrollo begins, using the endearing nickname you’ve come to loathe. His voice completely devoid of aggression, showing no hint of the manipulative thoughts that are definitely running through his mind. “Wandering the streets alone at this hour isn’t wise,” he chides gently, his tone tinged with condescension. “Come now, let’s get you back home.” His hand extends towards you, as if he’s giving you a choice. 

You muster up a sliver of self-control, refraining from cussing him out. Instead, you take a cautious step backwards--away from the beast. Noticing this, Chrollo’s lips pull into a slight smile, and his hand returns to his side. He doesn’t move an inch, letting out a resigned sigh that suggests he had anticipated this outcome. His gray eyes never leave yours as the sound of approaching footsteps begins fill the silent street. 

“Please, let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be,” Chrollo continues, his attention focused on you, purposely feigning ignorance of his loyal Spiders who are slowly encircling both of you. He remains the epitome of calm, acting as if your escape attempt was just a minor inconvenience. You stand still, and the Spiders close in, strategically blocking off all paths except for the one leading to Chrollo. 

[emotionalmessss]

Weird request, but would you be willing to take a shot at a Dabi headcannon list where the reader's family was friends with the Todoroki family, so he knew her before the fire when she was still a little girl?

A/N: ou, I'll definitely give this one a shot. I took a different approach with this one, so I hope I answered alright. :) I haven't written in months, so I'm kinda rusty and completely ran with this, sorry.

Warnings: slight spoilers for season six of MHA

Touya, despite being an energetic kid, was shy when you first started coming around the Todoroki household. 

At first, he would stay hidden and watch you play with his siblings down in the courtyard, opting to observe you through the balcony railing. Or he’d be too focused on training his Quirk in another room.

He never really said all the much to you, only a few words here and there, but that didn’t stop you from trying to interact with him.

As Fuyumi tosses a ball at Natsuo, you spot Touya out of the corner of your eye, who leans back against one of the wooden support beams and observes. 

You couldn’t help but grin when you notice him, turning to give him your full attention, and trying to beckon him over with a frantic wave of your hand. 

“Touya! Come join us!” You call out towards him, your bright smile never fading as you urged him to play. 

Touya glances over at the sound of your voice, his hand tucked inside the pockets of his pants. Averting his eyes and drawing his lips into a thin line, as he contemplates your offer. For a moment, that stubborn look of his fades, and it looks as though he’s about to concede, but at the last minute, he pushes himself off the wooden beam and retreats upstairs. 

Your smile faded slightly and your shoulders slump in response to his denial, but your innocent self quickly shakes off the sting of rejection. He probably just wants to train, you think to yourself. 

Eventually, as you started to come around the house more often, Touya slowly found himself getting more comfortable around you. 

He started talking to you more than he usually did, and rejecting less of your offers to come and play. Oddly enough, whenever you were around, his entire focus was on you.

You could say that this was just innocent child curiosity, but it was something different. The faint blush and quick aversion of his eyes whenever you caught him looking at you, how he occasionally asked Rei when you’d be at the house again, and how excited he got when he’d offer to show you his Quirk.

He loved to innocently tease you, and tell you all about his plans in surpassing All Might, and becoming the Number One Hero. He would go on and on about it, since you were one of the few people who encouraged him and his goals.

Touya’s head immediately poked out of his bedroom when he heard the front door open and close, followed by the familiar sound of your voice. Less than a second later, he quickly makes his way over to the front entrance with an excited bounce in his step. 

“C’mon, I wanna show you something cool!” His voice taking on a higher pitch, laced with a sense of urgency. He grins and grabs ahold of your hand, barely giving you enough time to take off your shoes before he’s tugging you down the hallway and into his room. 

Your eyes widen in pure awe as he holds up his hand, a bright flame flickering around his closed fists. “That’s so cool! You’re amazing!” 

A prideful smile spreads across his face at your response, which fills him up with a sense of satisfaction. There’s also a weird feeling that builds up in his stomach, one that he’s completely unfamiliar with. 

“You really think so?!” He questions, almost like he’s not used to this type of reaction. His smile widens and the heel of his right foot digs into the flooring when you nod.

His eyes shift from you to his fiery fist, and then back to you again. That look on your face, along with your praise causes Touya to completely ignore the gnawing heat that his Quirk produces — one that his body is ill equipped at handling. 

Years after the incident, now taking on the persona of Dabi, joining the League, and vowing revenge on Endeavor. The bitter reminders of being tossed aside like trash, the constant rejection, and being deemed a failure, all brewed beneath his aloof demeanour. 

That hatred wasn’t solely directed at his father, oh no, it stretched to that perfect little masterpiece. That fucking brat, nothing but a puppet.

But, deep beneath his hateful and resentful thoughts, there was one thought that occupied his mind more than he would’ve liked. You.

It would be a lie to say that Dabi didn’t try to get you out of his head, but it rarely seemed to work out in his favour. He would always tell himself that you didn’t matter and that he’s a kid anymore. After all, Touya Todoroki died. 

But getting someone like you out of his head was harder than he imagined. Even after everything, he could still see your beaming smile, and hear your innocent words of encouragement. 

Thoughts of you even started to distract him during his business with the League, especially when he was out searching for new recruits. Every time he noticed someone that looked even a tiny bit like you, his stomach would instantly knot up. Anxiety? Anticipation? Who knew. 

Whenever the League’s activities would venture a little too close to where you lived (again, why did he remember this?) he’d purposely hang back a bit, his impassive expression giving away none of his inner turmoil. 

[emotionalmessss]

Me again hehe ok so what if Sukuna had a frail s/o that bruises really easily like he could flick her arm and an hour later boom purple spot

A/N: ahhh. I know sukuna is like the opposite of nice/gentle, but I'm going to be taking a different approach with this. I tried to answer the best I could, I swear my brain likes to run with things and spew out random shit.

Warnings: slight violence, teasing, unhealthy relationships, soft-ish sukuna?

it was hard for sukuna to come to terms that he actually liked you. he noticed he was paying a little too much attention to you. nothing particularly peaked his interest much like you did. the thought of having feelings for something other than himself bothered him immensely. fruitlessly, he tried to suppress these emotions.

in his mind, he thought that if he ignored them, they'd eventually go away. so he resorted to his usual tactics; teasing, taunting, and humiliating you.

this succeeded in very little. he found himself even more enamoured by you. he loved watching you and never seemed to leave your side.

you'd grown accustom to his little games and stopped feeding into it. you knew he enjoyed your reactions and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

this annoyed him. although, he thoroughly enjoyed watching you unconsciously fight with your inner self. your face twisting up in a grimace, blush creeping in on your cheeks, and fists clenching at your sides.

his advancements were becoming intense. you couldn’t have more than a few hours to yourself without him intruding. it was strange. you couldn’t place why he was so interested in you and you tried to ignore it. it wasn’t an easy task. besides his taunting words and sadistic humour, he started being physical. he would stand closer to you than normal, hovering over you in a manner that screamed dominance.

sukuna found himself watching you more and more - his interest peaking to a borderline obsession. if he couldn’t ignore these feelings, he’d just have to embrace them. no one was allowed to harm you, except him, of course. you were his. his to torment. his to enjoy.

he noticed you were fragile, like a fucking child. If he grabbed with even just an ounce of his normal strength, your skin reddened. normally he'd feed off this new finding, but something else dwelled in his stomach. he wanted you all to himself. the desire to hurt you shifted into the need to have you.

a thick hand caught your wrist, instinctively causing your body to react and jerk backwards. your mask slipped from your face as you felt his grip tighten. the desire to flee was overwhelming, so much so that you'd combust if you stood still.

sukuna merely glanced down his nose at you, tightening his hold as you moved to step back. oh, no. you're not going anywhere. the need to have you close amplified and he tugged you closer, earning a hiss of response.

his eyes flicked to your wrist, noticing your pale skin darkening to a purple bruise. he couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face. his brows twitching as his eyes narrowed.

"such a fragile thing, aren't you?" his expression hardened again, but the softness of his voice couldn't be hidden.

he knew humans were fragile - there was no doubt in his mind about that. but he didn't expect this. he usually felt pleasure in causing pain towards others, but you were different. seeing all the cuts and bruises that littered your arms and legs made him unsettled.

he did his best to hide it, but you were smart. the way his expression shifted into slight concern before reverting to boredom, never went unnoticed.

his approach shifted, and you noticed it. sukuna refrained from using excessive force on you and instead, opted to softer gestures.

"hurt yourself again, brat?" you looked up at him, crossed legged at the bottom of his shrine.

"no." you stubbornly answered, flicking at your nails.

"hm." he shifted on his makeshift throne, glaring down at you with a bored expression.

he was crouching in front of you now, taking you by surprise and making you flinch back. his hand enveloped yours as he studied the fading bruise on your wrist.

"doesn't look that way to me." he muttered, focusing his attention on your arm.

sukuna’s usual lack of interest in anything changed. in your first meeting, he barely gave you a second glance. you weren’t important to him. he could care less about you. but now, his eyes lingered over you. he’d quickly check over your body when he thought you wouldn’t notice. at first, you couldn’t place why he was doing this. was it to make you uncomfortable? no. he was checking for any indications that you might be hurt.

[emotionalmessss]

𓏸𓂃⊹₊ ﾟ⟡.⋆ ☁︎ ☀︎ ⏾ .⋆⟡ ﾟ₊⊹𓂃𓏸

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Fandoms → hunter x hunter, jujutsu kaisen, code geass, bleach, my hero academia, naruto, tomodachi game, classroom of the elite, the grey man, etc. 

This is not an exhaustive list. These are just some fandoms that I’m currently interested in, the most familiar with, and typically write for—the ones you’ll mainly see being posted about on this blog. If there are others that I haven't specifically mentioned in this list, don't worry! You can always message me or whatever. If you want to request something specific, have a question, or you're unsure if I'd be willing to write content for a specific fandom, feel free to use my ask or privately inbox me. I'm always open to suggestions. :)

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headcanons →

chrollo: yandere/se!fharm themes | yandere/escaping | yandere/escaping & remorseful reader

sukuna: flinching/frightened reader | fragile s/o | feelings/crushing on Yuji's friend

dabi: previous relations

fics →

sukuna: king of curses | plaything

chrollo: dead end part 1 | dead end part 2 | dead end part 3 | stuck

lloyd hansen: punishments

dabi: revenge | diabolical dealings

shigaraki: diabolical dealings