ᝰ.ᐟ your roommate, nerd!cho, is secretly a panty thief! ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni
roommate!nerd!cho is incredibly quiet and keeps to himself when you first move in. he's a big, awkward computer science major who basically lives in front of his monitors, wearing hoodies that are three sizes too big and constantly pushing up his glasses. he used to get so tongue-tied and red just saying "hi" to you in the hallway.
roommate!nerd!cho takes a while to warm up, but once he gets comfortable, he’s the sweetest guy ever. he'll quietly fix the wi-fi before you even have to ask, or leave a donut on the counter for you. he's just really gentle, thoughtful, and incredibly nice to have around the apartment.
roommate!nerd!cho agrees to a simple laundry system with you to keep things running smoothly. you always put your clothes in the wash first thing in the morning. by the time he goes to do his, your turn is done and you’re already gone to your morning classes. it works perfectly every single week.
roommate!nerd!cho has a massive, secret crush on you that he keeps bottled up inside. he thinks you are way too pretty and completely out of his league, so he just admires you from a distance. because he’s so shy, he never plans on doing anything about it—but holding these heavy feelings in for so long makes him incredibly touch-starved and desperate for any connection to you!
roommate!nerd!cho finds a pair of your light pink cotton panties with a little white lace trim stuck to one of his hoodies. he's sorting his laundry on a tuesday morning when he sees them. "h-huh? w-what the..." his face goes bright red and his heart starts hammering. he knows he should just leave them on the counter, but looking at them triggers a dark, needy urge he didn't even know he had.
roommate!nerd!cho pockets them instead of returning them. his hands shake like crazy as he stuffs your pink panties into his pocket, quickly throws his clothes into the washer, and runs back to his room to lock the door.
roommate!nerd!cho collapses against his door and pulls the panties out. he holds the soft cotton to his face and takes a deep breath—smelling your laundry soap and the warm, sweet scent of your skin. it completely ruins him. he's so excited and hard that his dick is already leaking through his sweatpants.
roommate!nerd!cho babbles total filth to himself in a messy, breathless whimper as he pulls his pants down. he wraps your pink underwear tight around his shaft and starts jerking off. "oh my god—you smell so good," he groans, his glasses getting all foggy from his hot breath. "i'm so sorry—fuck—i'm such a disgusting freak... but haah—want you so bad." he strokes himself faster and faster while picturing your body, until he blows a huge, messy load right inside your underwear, completely ruining them.
roommate!nerd!cho realizes there is no way he can wash the sticky stains out without you finding out. shaking and sweaty, he hides his ruined prize in the very back of his desk drawer, tucked behind his computer parts where you'll never look.
roommate!nerd!cho gets totally hooked after that first time. doing laundry isn't a chore anymore; it’s his favorite part of the week. he starts offering to carry the baskets just to sneakily look through your clothes. soon, he steals a black silk thong, and then a pair of white boy-shorts with a tiny red bow on them.
roommate!nerd!cho gets greedy one weekend when you stay overnight at a friend's place. being all alone in the apartment makes him bold, and he steals two pairs at once: a sheer lavender mesh pair and some comfy grey cotton ones you usually wear to sleep.
roommate!nerd!cho uses both at the same time to get off. he wraps the tight lavender mesh around the bottom of his dick for friction, while keeping his face buried in the grey cotton. he actually licks the middle of the grey pair, trying to taste you, whimpering and begging for the real thing while he messes up another pair of your clothes.
roommate!nerd!cho starts worrying that you'll notice your underwear is missing. to keep you from getting suspicious, he carefully hand-washes the cleaner ones in his bathroom sink, dries them in his room, and sneaks them back into your clean basket. but he never gives back his favorites—especially the ones that smell the most like you.
roommate!nerd!cho sits across from you at the table the next day, looking like a totally innocent, sweet roommate as he drinks his coffee. when you complain about losing your favorite pink underwear, he just gives you a shy, sympathetic smile. but underneath the table, his dick is throbbing hard, knowing those exact pink panties are stuffed inside his pillowcase so he can sleep on your scent every single night.
The Parasite | serial killer!sukuna x yandere!reader
synopsis: after so many years of trying and failing, you’ve finally found the one for you. he’s handsome, hardworking, and keeps to himself— sukuna’s perfect. well, in your eyes, he was. you're sure his victims would say otherwise. you're not supposed to know about them, by the way.
your boyfriend still has no idea that you snooped through his belongings while he was at work. let's hope it stays that way.
cw: toxic relationship, serial killer sukuna, obsessive reader, joe and love vibes tbh lol, smut, fluff, angst, more to be added
notes: ik i said this would be for kinktober but this is taking over my brain lol. this’ll be a one shot! lmk if you’d like to be tagged
one: better than i ever even knew | do it for the thrill of the rush
The Parasite | part one: better than i ever even knew //do it for the thrill of the rush
pairing: serial killer!sukuna x yandere!reader
synopsis: you never know what he's up to half of the time, you're too busy lounging around the house and spending his money to notice, just how he likes it. it probably wasn't the best idea to let curiosity get the best out you and pick the lock to the only drawer he keeps locked, but what you find inside doesn't make you love him any less.
cw: f!reader, toxic relationship, serial killer sukuna, obsessive reader, joe and love/chucky and tiffany vibes tbh lol, smut, some fluff, angst, more to be added
notes: hi 🫶🏻 welcome to part one, this cute little story will be 3-4 parts + an epilogue total. barely proof read btw I'll get to it in the morning, if you asked to be tagged but haven't gotten the notification, it's because I'm working on rn 👉🏻👈🏻
next chapter
You love men like Sukuna— calm, quiet, confident.
Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges, quick to wedge space in between himself and others. But, he’s also thoughtful and detail oriented, you love that.
He’s perfect for you.
You weren’t expecting much when you grudgingly made your way into the beat up little auto shop on the other side of town. Even with the referral and the praise it received from a coworker, you still didn’t put too much trust into mechanics in general.
They’re greedy, adding on whatever service they could to rack up the bill at the very end. You go in wanting an oil change, then you leave thinking your engine’s just weeks away from blowing up if you don’t do such and such that same day.
A pang of regret had already hit you the moment you had awkwardly stepped foot into the space. There wasn’t even a receptionist or front desk to go to, just a dirty open garage with tools scattered everywhere and rock music thrumming in the background.
Then a low, almost irritated “can I help you” makes you nearly startle out of your skin. It wasn’t even a question with the way he said it, it was a demand. You were quick to turn around, just the sight of him alone was intimidating.
The tattoos, piercings, the height— he was beautiful.
He could also throw you over his shoulder in an instant and do god knows what to you. Your biggest mistake was not telling anyone where you were going.
And his footsteps, they were too quiet for someone with such an overwhelming presence. He could’ve stood behind you for a good ten minutes and you wouldn't have even known. Hell, with the amount of time that passed since you had arrived, he could’ve been.
Suppressing the part of you that instantly liked that about him was a task on its own, luckily he was used to women getting all giddy when they looked up at him.
There was more than just that slight interest in your eyes that day though, he just chose to brush it off. It’s something he’ll eventually look back on and regret, but for now, he was no better than you.
He carried an unimpressed demeanor, but it was easy to tell that’s just how he felt about life in general. A man with eyes as dull as his never had hopes or dreams to begin with, hence the rugged introduction.
“Oil leak,” you quietly said, trying your best to ignore the way he was staring you down. No longer unimpressed with you, he was more so amused with the way you can keep such a soft voice while holding eye contact with him. Zero faltering on your end, it was something new to him. “Unless that’s too much trouble.”
It came out sharper than you had intended, but you didn’t take it back. Something about the way he looked at you, it was giving… Sid Phillips looking for his next toy to snap in fucking half. You were annoyed enough that day. It didn’t matter how attractive he was, the last thing you needed was some mechanic being rude to you while draining your pockets.
He took his dear time answering you, slowly wiping his hands on some dirty rag, as if he wanted you to hear just how quiet his silence could be. It was deliberate and in your face, you could tell from the way he fought back a smile when you shifted in place, waiting for him to just say something already.
“Car’s out front?” He asked.
“Obviously.”
He chuckled and held his hand out, “keys— I’ll pull the car up for you.”
“‘Kay,” you mutter, pinching your keys and dropping them in his hand, downright refusing to touch his hand.
“Brat,” he muttered back as he turned around to walk away.
“Excuse me?” you held back a laugh at how easy it was for him to call you that.
“My office,” he said over his shoulder, “you can wait in there while I look at your car.”
“Right. Thanks.”
His office was just as run down as the rest of the garage— not that it was a surprise. The place hasn't ever seen a proper cleaning and probably never will. The door screeches when you push it open, the smell of cigarettes hits you the moment you do. There’s a calendar from fucking 2018 still pinned up and it’s hung above a rickety shelf that’s lined with a couple bottles of whiskey and a single coffee cup. It didn’t have a handle, it clearly broke off from what you can see, something you’ll never understand is how in the fuck someone would manage to do that.
But the fan? It’s in pristine condition— zero dust on the blades, doesn’t make that obnoxious cracking noise when turning. Why? Probably because it was for him and him only, not for his customers who he doesn’t seem to care much about.
It was the only thing that made you want to stay in the office. You couldn’t hate the guy too much for offering you a cool space when the heat outside was blistering.
“You got a lot more than just that oil leak that needs fixing, sweetheart,” he came in and said after 30 minutes, not missing the way your eyes rolled at his words.
That was the first time you’ve ever heard his laugh.
He likes them bratty, loves it when they fight back.
His face falls into a smirk after seeing the way you don’t try to hide your frustration at him, “here, I’ll tell you what.”
“What?” You mutter, pushing back the frown that’s fighting its way onto the surface.
“Let me take you out ‘n all the extra stuff’ll be on the house.”
Little did you know that the way you grabbed his jaw and stole a kiss from him is what saved your life— at least for the time being. Sukuna was the type that enjoyed playing with his food. And so were you, which was why you never complained that following weekend when he took you out.
It wasn’t a real date, at least not by your standards. He picked you up late, around 9 pm.
“Where to, Mr. Sukuna?” You said after buckling yourself into the passenger seat, breaking the ice almost immediately.
“It’s a secret,” he said rather darkly, adding a smile to make it sound more playful. “I know a place.”
The place he took you wasn’t fancy, it was some hole in the wall diner a couple towns over. It made you wonder if he was more comfortable in settings like that since his own shop was just as run down as the restaurant.
“Sooo,” you hummed, sipping on the stale coffee he insisted you’d like, “is this how you get girls to go out with you? Exchanging free services for dinner?”
A menacing grin slowly surfaces. “Worked out pretty well, no?”
You two grew interested in each within that first hour. The light hearted banter, his blatant flirting that was followed by whatever snarky comment you could come up with. The conversation would take a dark turn here and there, but never went too far given how you’d change it to something else.
Not that you were backtracking, you just genuinely didn’t care even though a part of him wanted you too.
In your eyes, was able to hold his own fairly well, except for that split second when you bursted out laughing after he just had to mention the recent disappearance in the area.
But we’ll go more into that a little later— the face he makes when you insult his work, that is.
He truly was annoyed, you should’ve been scared, but he can also appreciate someone with a sick sense of humor, even if you didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about.
It was cute.
He took you home late, you two had stayed up talking until 1:00 am. Maybe it was a good thing that he took you to that diner, no other place was open that late. Right before your hand reached for the door handle, he leaned in like he was going to give you a kiss goodnight.
What you did took him by surprise, beating him to it. Grabbing his jaw and kissing him like you meant it. Kissing him like you owned him.
He didn’t say a word after. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking at that moment, if he was thinking about anything at all. You ended up snapping him out of it, asking, "wanna come inside for a bit?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "I'd like that."
He thought he had the upper hand, some delusional part of him probably still thinks he has the upper hand now.
That whole date? The little run down diner, the way he smoothly ordered for you in a honeyed voice, the flirtation that might as well have been threats?
That was cute— like, actually.
It was like watching some dumb dog baring its teeth to a snake after already getting bit, completely unaware of the venom that was slowly mixing in with its blood. You were more than just bite.
Just like how he kept that nights destination a secret, you knew Sukuna had more of them, ones that were so much darker. It was in his mannerisms. You saw it in the way his fingers twitched when the waitress took too long to bring you your food. The way his eyes momentarily darkened when you pretended to zone out while he spoke to you in detail about something.
You two had spent that entire night pushing each other's buttons.
And luckily for you, he liked the way you kept up with him. He liked you.
Who knew you’d find someone so interesting in a beat up auto shop.
—
The first three months of dating Sukuna is an absolute whirlwind. Clouded by passion and long nights of him muttering filthy things in your ear, he was able to convince you to move in with him after just one month and by the end of the second, convinced you to quit your job and be a stay at home girlfriend.
He promised to take care of you and he delivered on it, making sure he gave you everything you asked for and never forgetting to tease you over how much of a spoiled brat you were. There's been times where he's tried to rub it in your face, but the way you'd giggle at his seriousness threw him off enough to drop the subject.
Despite how rough he is in bed with you, he’s overall gentle with you. No one would take Sukuna for a man that brought home flowers for his girlfriend, yet he does. He replaces them when the last bouquet is about to die too.
He listens to you with intent when you speak and his eyes soften while he does so. Not one word is lost with him, he remembers everything— every little detail, down to the expression you make when saying it.
Even when he thinks you’re still asleep he’s still kind, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead and murmuring how much of a sweet girl you are to himself before leaving for work.
He’s perfect— that’s the first thought that comes to mind when you’re met with the sight of him first thing in the morning. You always wake up an hour before him, spending that time basking in the silence and warmth of the sheets. Taking in his sharp features that somehow soften when he’s asleep, and vulnerable.
He’s at his most vulnerable whenever he has his nightmares, something you quickly came to learn about within the first month of dating. His breathing picks up whenever he's having one, he grows warmer than usual too, he’ll even sweat a little if it’s that bad. Sometimes you’ll reach out to hold him and he’ll lean into your touch when you do… you don’t tell him about it though. There’s a lot that you notice about him that you don’t mention, actually.
It’s better that way. He’s already stressed out enough as is, why would you add to it by making him weary of you too?
The thing about Sukuna and his nightmares, they get worse at certain times. Whatever he does outside of the home and life you share together haunts him— goes to show that one can never truly run away from their sins.
And what were his sins exactly? You’re not entirely sure. Definitely not cheating, you’d know. You’ve checked his clothes and car for hair strands or a faint whiff of perfume that didn’t belong to you. He was loyal, it was probably one of the only good things about him.
But that wasn’t good enough to keep you from poking around the house while he was gone. The thing about intuition is that you never look past it, that’s why you finally decided to see what was in his locked drawer today.
It was a good hiding spot, in the room he uses to keep all of his workout equipment, hidden in plain sight. He keeps all the other drawers unlocked, most people would stop at the second drawer and most likely wouldn’t check the one that was second to last, realizing it’s the only one locked.
The kicker? After finally picking into the lock with a hairpin, you’re met with the sight of bondage gear. Leather handcuffs, floggers, ball gags. Nothing he’s never used on you. Anyone else would’ve closed that drawer without further investigation and would’ve missed that the drawer had a false bottom.
What was under it was much more interesting to you.
The first thing that catches your eye is a pair of panties you’ve never worn around him before and lost before moving in with him.
It was the least worrying thing in that drawer.
The next was a bunch of cash and fake I.D’s banded together. You pocket some of the cash of course, enough to have a little fun with but not too much to where he’d notice. The way the bills were chaotically stacked and banded together told you he didn’t count them.
The next was a stack of polaroids of different people, some seemed to be in the active process of dying, but most were actually dead. All had notes on the back. Three of the people in the stack were people you recognized.
The first was the barista at the coffee shop you frequented. You two were on a first name basis before his passing, poor Suguru.
Note: “Stared at her ass like I wouldn’t notice.”
The second was your ex. You almost felt bad, maybe you shouldn’t have shared that much with him about Naoya, but then a smile quickly emerged after remembering how much of a dick he was to you during your year long relationship. Sukuna did the world a favor that day.
Note: “The jackass deserved it.”
And the last photo was of you while you were walking across a street. You remember when you wore that exact outfit, it was two days after your first date with him.
The note on the back?
“Keep her.”
Nice to see he thought of you as much as you thought of him that early on.
Sukuna comes home from work around 5:13, usually, sometimes there’ll be more traffic after work and it’ll add a few more minutes to his drive back home. Neither are bad— the perks of living close by and all.
He does have his late nights at the shop though. He never specifies what he does, nor do you ask, so he’s never actually lied to you. There have been nights where you’ve stayed up wondering what the hell he was out so late for, a couple brows raised here and there since he brings flowers or some other gifts on those nights. The polaroids ended up answering those questions.
Your plan now after finding out about his little secret?
Nothing.
What was there to do? Confront him? Turn him in? Ruin what you have with him?
Exactly.
It’s business as usual and Sukuna’s getting a steak dinner tonight. You made sure to get him an extra nice cut with that money you found in his secret drawer.
5:13 p.m, right as the clock strikes you hear the front door unlock, in comes Sukuna with his resting bitch face. The aroma of garlic and seared meat wipes the scowl off faster than usual, dropping his keys on the counter and making his way towards you.
“What’s the extra nice dinner for, hm?” He warmly asks, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You didn’t do anything that’d get you in trouble did you?”
You giggle, if only he knew, “you always think I’m up to no good.”
“Yeah,” he smirks, “gotta keep an eye on you.”
“You don’t even try hiding it,” you say, turning around and leaning into a kiss. His grip on your waist tightens and it takes him a second to kiss you back, but he eventually does.
Pulling away and taking in the expression that was on his face made it hard keeping the little secret to yourself, he looked like you just shot him.
“Might as well just start saying you love me,” you eventually add, watching the blood drain back into his face. You gently rub his shoulders while watching him convince himself that he was just being paranoid, maybe you shouldn’t have come on that strong, especially since his last kill was just a few days ago, but you couldn’t help it. “You okay?”
“Hm?” He barely asks, snapping out of whatever thought process he was in. “...Yeah, I’m good. I’m gonna change outta these clothes before I eat.”
“Good idea.” You respond, brushing his hair back, something about it gives him reassurance.
Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say either, given how you noticed the slightest jolt in his step as he walked away, as if he were about to turn around and ask what you meant by that. You’re surprised he doesn’t, he’s more combative than this, for fun at that.
While flipping over the last steak, you make a mental note to maybe start saying more cryptic things to him whenever he gets on your nerves. It seems to do a great job at shutting him up. Might as well think about these things now since you were in it for the long run.
You shake the thought away though, knowing you just wanted to mess with him. You glance over at the set table with the new dinnerware and wine glasses you purchased using his credit card. Who knew you’d step into a domestic role so easily after Sukuna asked you to move in.
It’s something Naoya used to always get on your case for, which ultimately led to your nasty break up. He wanted a stay at home wife, a homemaker— you wanted none of that, with him. Guess it just took the right person to make you change your mind.
Sukuna lazily strolls back into the kitchen in a pair of grey sweats and a white tank top as you begin to plate the food. He’s back to smiling over the dinner you surprised him with.
You like him like this— happy and content. You’re convinced there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to keep things the way they are.
“Thanks for this,” he remembers to say, pulling you in to press a kiss on your temple. Your wording earlier almost made him forget his manners.
“You’re welcome baby,” you softly say, taking a seat on the chair he pulled out for you. “Wanted to spoil you a little since you work so hard.”
Sometimes he forgets it’s him who’s paying for, well, all of this. You do a really good job at that.
Sukuna momentarily thinks about last month's credit card bill and snorts, cutting into the steak. Medium rare— just how he likes it. It melts in your mouth and he savors it by chewing slowly. Though this time, he keeps his eyes on you, the expression on his face as unreadable as ever.
“You didn't... find anything weird today, did you?” he smoothly asks after a few bites.
You tilt your head, looking more amused than confused. “Weird? Like what?”
“I dunno,” he says, stabbing one of the roasted brussel sprouts with his fork a little harder than usual, “just thought you seemed kinda off when I first got back.”
You grin, sipping your wine. “Y’know… they say when someone accuses you of something, it’s usually them who did something wrong.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything, sweet heart,” he chuckles, “just asking you a simple question.”
You sigh and set your glass down, “and I asked you what’s classified as weird, but you go straight to claiming I’m acting 'off'.”
He pauses entirely mid-cut, including his chewing. Is this really happening right now?
“I’m not claiming anything,” he mutters.
“You literally just claimed I was acting off for cooking you a nice fucking meal,” your voice hardly raises as you begin to argue. “You don’t see me asking these questions when you get home late and try to make me forget that with flowers.”
“I’m not— what the fuck?— I come back with fuckin’ flowers ‘cause I feel bad for working late, that’s why I bring them,” he tries to explain, but you’re already laughing at him.
“Yeah and I feel bad about how much you work!And now you’re saying I'm fucking weird for going out of my way to do something nice for you.”
“I didn’t fucking call you weird,” he raises his voice.
“Great, now I’m getting yelled at for defending myself.”
“There’s nothing to defend yourself over, I wasn’t accusing you of anything,” he repeats himself, throwing his arms out in frustration.
“Whatever Sukuna,” your voice cracks as you reach for the glass of wine and down the rest of its contents in one go.
“Are you seriously gonna cry right n—” he tries to ask, but his questions answered after seeing how glassy your eyes have gotten. “Babe, c’mon.”
You sniffle and take a deep breath, “Just forget about it. I’m being stupid right now.”
“No you’re not, I—” he responds, quite stunned at this point as he watches a singular tear trail down your cheek.
He stares at you with a look of shock and disbelief, brain having to go into overdrive over the ridiculousness of it all— as he should, honestly. You really didn’t mean to escalate the situation this much, it kind of just happened in the process of trying to change the subject. It doesn’t help that you’ve always been one for theatrics. But, it was either this, implying that he's cheating, or giggling like a freak over knowing about something he doesn't.
The latter would've just kept him up at night.
Note to self not do this too much, Sukuna’s not one to be underestimated. He’s smart and will eventually piece together that you’re toying with him… god forbid he finds out you so much as enjoy it.
“I’m not dealing with this right now,” you continue, getting up from the chair to leave, but he grabs your wrist to stop you.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” He grumbles and pulls you to sit on his lap.
Getting you to sit on his lap was the easy part, getting you to look at him was a struggle on its own. You don’t fail to remind him how stubborn you could be when each plea to look at him was met with either a whiney “no” or straight up silence.
He thought making jokes would somehow lighten the mood. Bad idea. You teared up more and said something along the lines of “you don’t get it.”
At least that’s what he thinks. It was kinda hard to understand you with the light, shaky heaves after each word.
“Stop cryin’,” he mumbles softly, wiping your cheeks dry. “It’s been a long day, I didn’t know I was comin’ off as rude. I'm sorry, wasn’t tryna fight you.”
You take a deep breath, leaning your head against his chest. "I'm sorry too. I don't know what's gotten into me, just been missing you lately."
“You're good, I didn't know working overtime was starting to get to you,” he mutters, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Can't do much about my schedule, you want me to text you more updates or somethin’?”
“I don't wanna bother you while you’re working though,” you respond somewhat grudgingly.
“You’re not a bother,” he says, wrapping his arms around. “I don’t want you thinking I’m out doin’ shit I’m not supposed to do.”
“Fine,” you mutter, “keep bringing me flowers though, I like them.”
He chuckles, “greedy ass girl— keep cooking like this and I’ll give you all the flowers in the world.”
—
“No… no… no no no no, please! I have a family— I have a wife and children— please, don’t! I can pay you, you can even drag me to the nearest atm, just please d—”
His newest victim is suddenly cut off by a phone ringing— Sukuna’s phone to be exact. Did the hourly texts escalate to phone calls? You fucking bet.
It's keeps you happy though, so he doesn't mind them.
Sukuna pulls a knife out of his pocket and crouches down until he’s face to face with the trembling man, “make one sound and I’m gutting you like a fuckin’ fish, got it?”
As if he wasn’t already planning to do that in the first place for leaving a bad review of his shop over a year ago.
The man frantically nods, thinking the phone call somehow saved his life, especially after faintly hearing the voice on the other line. It sounded like a woman complaining, a wife or girlfriend perhaps?
Didn’t matter, it was something they had in common, his wife’s a bitch too. He could use it to somehow humanize himself, so Sukuna doesn’t fucking kill him.
“Where are you? You said you’d be home at 8,” you huff.
He said he’d be home around eight.
It’s also only 8:15, but he refrains from responding with that. He’d do just about anything to avoid fighting with you. You just burst out crying every time and the last thing he wants right now is feeling anything along the lines of guilt or remorse.
“I know, ‘m closing up the shop right now,” he says in response, closely eyeing victim number... he stopped counting a while ago.
“Kay’, hurry up, the foods gonna be cold,” you say. He can just see the little pout on your face, bringing a little smile to his face.
“Can’t have that now, can we?” he chuckles, as if there wasn't a bloody, battered man right before him, “I’ll be home soon, baby. Promise.”
Haruta, the man’s actual name, closely listens to the conversation. Holding on to any piece of information he could get, as if it were his life-line.
It was his lifeline, it’s all he had at this point.
But all he could get from the short interaction was that Sukuna is just a man trying to appease his girlfriend, a dog on a leash if you ask him.
That much is known when he stays on the phone for another minute or so, responding with only either mhm or of course, save for the pet names here and there.
“Alright, closin’ up right now,” Sukuna says warmly, “love you.”
He doesn’t look at the screen as he hangs up, and continues to look at Haruta. Except this time he’s looking at him as if it was his fault Sukuna got yelled at. He takes a look at the knife in his hand and contemplates if he should even use it, eventually tossing it aside after realizing he’d have to clean himself up afterwards.
“No wait,” Haruta chokes out as Sukuna reaches forward, “wait wait wait wait w—”
Unknown; | Nana on Vgen ; | "No, I don't miss the dissipated night's", by Alexander Pushkin (tr. by D.M. Thomas) (1832); | Sappho |
A very hugeeeeeeeee thank you to sweet Nana on Vgen for this sexyyyyyyyyy dynapuff piece. I obviously cannot show the full piece here otherwise I’ll get shunned on Tumblr but please check out their coms. Nana was so incredibly great to work with, so patient and kind and so open to trying to create my vision with this piece. I couldn’t be happier!
Anywhoo please enjoy my man riding the high of adrenaline after fighting a villain and wanting to feel his woman wrapped around him. 💖
