all work belongs to @yoonsucks , do not copy, repost, translate or feed into AI !!
Divider creds (im picky): @/6x-x9 (A big big big thank you to @6x-x9 helping me with dividers <33) @/pixopix @/angeliicide @/cafekitsune @/mieluno @/uzmacchiato @/junabuggy @/honeyluvsw @/chrisssiren @/enchanthings @/junabuggy @/priestboy @/sugarish @/dollywons @/puppizai @/kodaswrld @/strangergraphics @/cursed-carmine @/viviansturns @/steviebbboi
࣪˖ ݁Ი𐑼 ⋆ִֶָ་𝓕.𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ִֶָ ་༘ ࣪˖ weakness is your messy eyeliner!?
𝟏𝟖+ 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢 ꒰ fem!reader ⋮⋮ "kajal" is used in place of eyeliner ⋮⋮ not desi reader specific but desi reader was in mind when writing this ⋮⋮ oral m. rec ⋮⋮ cum in mouth ꒱
The bedroom is still quiet as morning light breaks into your shared apartment, rays of sunshine filtering through the curtains. You stirred first, from sleep, hair spilled across the pillows and the faint scent of last night's jasmine oil still clinging to your skin.
Toji laid beside you. His massive frame taking up most of the bed. One heavy arm draped lazily over your waist. His breathing deep and even, as you blinked slowly. The familiar weight of sleep still pressed on your lashes.
He woke moments later. Those sharp green eyes cracked open and landed on your face.
Your kajal. Lined so carefully every night before bed. Now smudged in the most sinful way. Dark rings shadowed your pretty eyes, making you look wrecked already. Sultry. Like you had spent the whole night taking him deep and desperate.
Toji's cock twitched hard under the sheets, because he was instantly rock hard at the sight of you like this, actually every single morning, it did something filthy to him. He tried to look away, but his jaw clenched tight, the longer he tried to tell himself, not again. Just one morning he hoped his cock wasn't aching and painful because of you.
And you noticed right away. How could you not? His body language gave him away every time, the slight adjusting or where he'd pull the covers up over himself in an attempt to hide his boner. You shifted closer voice coming out soft and teasing. "What's wrong, Toji? You look like you're in pain."
He let out a low grunt, eyes flickering back to yours. The smudged kajal around them made his thoughts spiral. "Fuck. You look too good like that, Dollface. With your eyes all dark and messy. Makes me think about.. how y'er pretty mouth was taking all of me last night, stuffed ya full didn't I?
He lifted his hand mid sentence, reaching towards your face cupping your cheek as his thumb swiped right under your eye.. right where the kajal was the thickest. "Ruined that pretty liner even more."
Your heart fluttered. Heat pooled low in your belly. You knew exactly what he meant. His eyes always betrayed him. That hungry stare. The way his gaze dropped to your full lips next. He was imagining them stretched wide around his thick cock again.
You didn't say anything at first. Instead your hand roamed down his bare chest. Fingers tracing the hard lines of his abs. Lower, until you reached the heavy tent in his sweatpants. He was leaking already, a damp spot blooming under your palm.
Toji hissed through his teeth. "Shit. Yeah. Just like that."
You freed him with eager fingers. His cock sprang out. Thick, veined. The head flushed dark and shiny with pre-cum. It bobbed heavily against his stomach. You licked your lips. The sight making your mouth water.
Leaning down, you settled between his spread thighs. He opened them wider for you. Gentle and loving were his big hand as it came to rest on the back of your head. Fingers stroking through your hair with surprising tenderness.
You wrapped your plump lips around the tip first. Tongue swirling to lap up every drop of pre-cum. Salty-warm and perfect. Toji let out a guttural groan from deep in his chest. His hips bucking up just a little.
"Fuck, Dollface. Your mouth's... always so good for me."
You took him deeper. Inch by thick inch. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked. The weight of him on your tongue felt divine. Your fingers teased along his happy trail. Petting the dark hair there. Tracing the muscles that flexed under your touch.
He guided you down slowly. "That's it. All the way, baby. Take every fucking inch f'me. I know you can."
You did. Relaxing your throat. Letting his cock slide in until your nose pressed against his pelvis. Your walls massaged him tight. Wet heat enveloping him completely. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. They spilled over. Smudging the kajal even more, black mixing with your tears, running down your cheeks.
Toji's gaze was locked on you. Hyper focused. He drank in every detail. The beauty marks around your eyes. The cute one right above your upper lip. Your hair framing your face like a halo. You looked so beautiful. So fucking ruined for him.
His thumb brushed your stretched lips. Gathering the drool that slipped out. "God, you're gorgeous. Look at you. Taking me so deep. My pretty girl."
You hummed around him. The vibration made his thighs tremble. You bobbed your head. Sucking harder. Tongue working the underside of his shaft. One hand cupped his heavy balls. Rolling them gently while your other hand stroked what your mouth couldn't reach.
Toji's fingers tightened in your hair. Not pulling. Just holding. Guiding you back and forth on his cock as his breaths came rougher now. "Yeah. Just like that. Gonna make those pretty eyes water more. Love seeing my good girl gag on my cock."
You pushed yourself further. Throat fluttering around him. Tears flowing freely. The kajal was a complete mess now. Dark smudges painting your heated skin. You looked up at him through wet lashes. Eyes glassy and devoted.
That was it. The sight broke him.
Toji came with a fevered moan. Thick ropes of cum flooding your throat. Hot, heavy and endless. You swallowed around him. Milking every drop, throat working rhythmically. Taking it all like the good girl you were.
When he finally eased out, a string of spit and cum connected your swollen lips to his glistening cock. You gasped for air. Lips shiny and wrecked.
Toji pulled you up immediately. His mouth crashed onto yours in a deep kiss. Tasting himself on your tongue. Then softer kisses followed. Across your cheek. Along your jaw. Gentle presses just under your eyes where the kajal was darkest. Kissing away the messy streaks with surprising care.
"You wrecked me, princess," he murmured against your skin. His hand stayed at the back of your head. Massaging your scalp in slow circles. "So fucking pretty in the morning. Thank you. My beautiful girl. My sultry little thing."
You smiled. Curling into his broad chest. His arms wrapped around you tight. The sun climbed higher outside. But neither of you moved. Just tangled together. His cock softening against your thigh. Your smudged kajal marking him now too.
Toji pressed one last kiss to your forehead. "Gonna need you to line those eyes every night. Just so I can wake up to this. Every damn morning."
His voice was low, a little possessive, but full of that lazy affection only you ever got to see. You nestled closer. Already thinking about tonight. How you'd line them even thicker. Just for him.
hello i'm here to file my complain because after reading your last sukuna fic (amazing story btw i loved it so so muchhhh) my dash is filled with gore and horror stuff i'm scared
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𝒦.𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ་༘ ִֶָ ࣪˖ is fighting demons while his gf tries on bikini's at the mall.
꒰xfem!reader ⋮⋮ bikini try ons ⋮⋮ reader is implied to be curvy ⋮⋮ semi-public sex ⋮⋮ sex in a changing stall ⋮⋮ p in v ⋮⋮ c-pied꒱
Bikini season had the mall packed with bright lights and summer music humming through the speakers. You dragged Choso into the swimwear store with a bright smile, your hand tight in his. The racks were full of tiny colorful strings and triangles that barely covered anything. You picked out a few sets and headed straight for the changing stalls at the back. The store worker hovered nearby, polite and ready to help if needed.
You pushed open the door to the biggest stall and pulled Choso inside with you before he could protest. The space was tiny, meant for one person. The little bench along the wall could barely accommodate his large body. He sat down heavily, knees spread wide because there was no room otherwise. His face was already flushed, hazel eyes dark and watching you with that shy hunger he could never hide.
You thought having him in here would be nice... that he could sit quietly while you undressed and give him a private show as you modelled the bikinis. Perfect way to tease your boyfriend on a hot day, right?
The door clicked shut. You turned to face him, hands already reaching for the hem of your top. "Ready to see me try these on, baby?"
Choso nodded, swallowing hard. His thighs tensed on the bench as you peeled your shirt off slowly. The moment your breasts spilled free, bare and soft, his cock twitched hard in his pants. He was so hard already. Just the sight of your tits made him leak, a wet spot forming at the front of his jeans. His breathing picked up, chest rising fast under his hoodie.
You smiled at him, turning side to side so he could see everything. Your manicured fingers cupped your breasts lightly, then lifting them as if checking how they'd fit for a nonexistent top. "What do you think? Too much?"
He couldn't answer right away, well, because the question confused him, too much? Too much of what exactly? Your breasts were perfect. They could never be "too much," in his vocabulary that didn't exist. His legs spread wider on the bench, cock straining painfully against the fabric. Pure torture. You were so close to him in this tiny stall, the air thick with the scent of your skin and his growing desperation.
You hooked your thumbs into your skirt next, shimmying it down your hips inch by inch. The fabric slid over your ass, revealing the smooth curves and the tiny thing you called 'underwear' underneath. Choso groaned quietly, eyes locked on the way your ass jiggled softly with each wiggle. His cock throbbed visibly now, leaking more into his jeans, the outline thick and obvious between his spread thighs.
"Baby... this is too much," he whispered, voice strained. "You're so pretty. I can't... fuck." He couldn't think straight, anytime he saw a sliver of your bare skin. This was actually killing him.
You stepped closer, turning and bending over so your ass brushed near his face while you pretended to adjust the tong. Then you picked up the first bikini, a tiny red string set. You slipped the top on slowly, tying the strings behind your neck while your breasts bounced with the movement. The triangles barely covered your nipples. You modelled it for him, posing with hands on your hips and everything, real professional-like. Turning so he could see how it hugged your body.
Choso's hands gripped the edge of the bench, knuckles white. His cock was fully hard now, tenting out obscenely. "You look... incredible. But please, I might... right here, baby. If you keep doing that."
You giggled softly and cupped them, squeezing gently right in front of his flushed face. "Aw, poor Baby. Just from watching me change? You're so hard already. Unbelievable." Your words and tone of voice almost sounded like you were scolding him. "You're gonna have to stay like that, a little while longer, Cho." He winced.
And whimpered, shifting on the bench, but there was nowhere to go. His legs stayed spread wide, thick cock pulsing with every heartbeat. You slid the matching red bottoms up your legs and right over your own soaked panties next, bending over slowly so your ass pushed toward him. The tiny fabric disappeared between your cheeks, leaving almost nothing to his imagination.
The store worker's voice floated from the other side of the door. "Everything okay in there? Need any different sizes?"
You answered cheerfully, still facing Choso. "We're good! Just trying a few on." Then you dropped your voice to a teasing whisper. "Hear that, baby? She's right outside. And here you are, sitting there with your cock so hard because of my tits and ass."
Choso bit his lip hard, eyes glassy. "Please... you're killing me. I can see everything." He's right, your pussy lips are showing through that, excuse of a bikini botton. His voice chirped up, a little higher but still trying to keep quiet, "I want to touch you but... I-I might cum if you move any closer."
As soon as the first set came on off, the other was on. Turning to him again, modelling the next bikini, a white one that went sheer when it got wet, but right now, it just clung to your curves. You climbed onto his lap carefully, knees on either side of his spread thighs on the tiny bench. Your barely covered pussy pressed right against the hard bulge in his jeans.
"Feel how wet I am already, Cho?" you murmured, grinding slowly, for emphasis. "Watching you suffer like this is so hot, baby. My cute boyfriend trapped in here with me. It's torture for you, hm?"
He groaned into your shoulder, big hands finally grabbing your hips. His cock throbbed against your pussy, leaking steadily now, soaking through and dampening the bikini bottom. "Baby... I can't hold it. You're too much. Your tits are literally in my face, your ass... everything's just."
You rocked your hips again, slow and teasing, feeling him pulse under you. Your breasts brushed his chest with every movement. The air heavy with tension and his quiet, desperate sounds.
"You're gonna make me cum in my pants before we even leave the store," he whispered, voice cracking.
You leaned up and kissed his jaw softly, tits pressing against his chest again. "Good. Maybe I want you to. Sit pretty for me, Cho. Bikini season is just getting started."
The store worker knocked lightly again. "Let me know if you need help with anything!"
You smiled against Choso's neck, grinding once more on his throbbing cock. "We're almost done. Just one more outfit."
Pure torture for him, and you loved every flushed, leaking second of it.
The tiny changing stall felt even smaller now, the air thick and warm from both of you. You were still wearing that sheer white bikini, the one that clung to your curves and left almost nothing hidden. Choso stayed sat on the little bench, like you told him to. Legs spread wide to make room for you on his lap. His cock was rock hard, pressing up against your ass through his jean. Every tiny shift of your hips made him leak more, the wet spot just kept growing bigger.
You reached behind your neck, fingers brushing the tied strings of the bikini top. "Help me with this one, baby. Untie it for me."
Choso's eyes widened, flushed face turning even redder. His hands came up slowly, trembling as they found the strings. "O-okay... like this?" He asked dumbly as he fumbled with the knot, fingers clumsy from how turned on he was. His cock throbbed hard against your ass, thick and insistent.
You wiggled on his lap on purpose, grinding back against him while he worked. "Mhm, just pull it loose. You can do it."
He finally got one string untied, the top loosening so your breasts nearly spilled out. He tried to grab another bikini from the hook on the wall, anything to distract himself. But you caught his wrists gently and guided his hands back to your chest.
"Forget about that Cho and grab these instead," you whispered, voice teasing. "Feel how soft they are, baby? All for you."
Choso groaned quietly, big hands cupping the curve of your tits right away. His palms were warm and a little shaky as he squeezed, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples through the thin fabric. "Fuck... they're so perfect. So soft."
You smiled, reaching down between your bodies. tugging his zipper down and pulling the waistband of his boxers lower, just enough for his thick cock to spring free, hot and leaking against your ass. With one hand you slipped the bikini bottoms and your panties off. To the side it went with a flick of your wrist, next to choso on the bench it landed. Your slick cunt now exposed, wet and soaking. You rocked back slowly, letting his bare cock slide along your slick pussylips.
"Keep playing with my tits while I take care of this," you murmured, guiding the head of his cock to your sopping hole. You sank down onto him in one smooth motion, your tight cunt swallowing every thick inch.
Choso's head fell back against the wall, a muffled whimper escaping as your ass settled fully in his lap. His hands groped your tits harder now, fingers digging into the soft flesh while you started riding him slow and deep. The bench creaked quietly under you both.
"Baby... you're so wet," he breathed, voice cracking. His hips bucked up instinctively, cock dragging along your walls with every roll of your hips. "I can feel you clenching around me. you feel... t-too good."
You kept moving, ass bouncing lightly in his lap, pussy making soft wet sounds around his cock. His hands never left your tits, squeezing and kneading the weight of them, pinching your nipples until you moaned softly. The strings of the bikini top hung loose around your neck, your breasts spilling free into his palms.
"Such a good helper," you teased, grinding down hard so his cock pressed deep inside you. "So good." He let out a high whimper at your praise, You leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Anyone could hear us if you get too loud, Choso."
He bit his lip hard, trying to stay quiet, but his whimpers kept slipping out. His cock throbbed inside your cunt, leaking steadily as you rode him faster. The tiny stall filled with the scent of sex and the quiet slap of skin on skin.
You moved your hands down to hold his hands tighter against your tits, making him grope you even more. "Don't stop touching them. I love your hands on me like this."
Choso nodded frantically, fingers sinking deeper into the soft flesh as you bounced on his cock. His thighs trembled under you, the bench barely holding both of you steady. He was so close already, cock swelling thicker inside your dripping pussy.
"Cum whenever you want, baby," you whispered, clenching around him on purpose. "Fill me up, hm?" You encouraged. "Think you can make it through two more try ons?" He groaned viscerally, "Okay maybe one." You purred in his ear.
He whined your name into your shoulder, hands full of your soft breasts, cock pulsing deep as he tried so hard not to make too much noise. The mall music playing on outside the door, but inside the stall it was just you, him, and the desperate heat building between your bodies.
Choso's big hands wrapped tight around your waist, fingers digging into your soft skin as he pulled you back hard onto his cock. He thrust up deep, stuffing you full with every thick inch while his hips snapped up desperately. Your tight cunt squeezed around him, milking him as you rode faster, tits bouncing in his groping palms.
"Fuck... baby I'm gonna..." he groaned low, voice wrecked.
You clenched hard around him, grinding down so his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside. "Cum for me, Cho. Fill me up, like a good boy."
He came hard with a muffled cry, cock pulsing thick ropes of cum straight into your pussy. His hands held your waist like a vice, keeping you seated fully on him while he stuffed you full, pumping every last drop deep. Your cunt fluttered around him, taking it all, his warm load flooding you until it started to leak around his shaft.
When the last spasm faded, Choso slumped back against the wall, chest heaving, completely dazed. His cock softened a little but stayed buried inside you, twitching with aftershocks. You lifted off slowly, feeling his cum start to leak out of your stretched hole the second he pulled out. Thick white streaks dripped down your thighs, messy and warm.
You smiled at him, still flushed and glowing. "Come on Cho, grab my underwear and put them on me."
Choso looked so fucked out, eyes glassy, lips parted, brain fuzzy from how hard he just came. He reached blindly for your panties on the bench beside him, fingers trembling as he picked them up. Your pussy was on full display, puffy and leaking his cum in slow globs.
He leaned forward, still dazed, and carefully pulled your panties up your legs. The soft cotton slid over your skin until it cupped your dripping cunt, barely. He tugged them into place gently, but his thumb pressed right over your hole, feeling the way his cum soaked through the fabric already. A dark wet spot bloomed under his thumb, warm and sticky.
"Look at that," you whispered, voice teasing as you rocked your hips a little, pushing more of his load into the panties. "Your cum is already making such a mess in my panties. Then you focused the praise back on him. "Good boy for dressing me after you stuffed me so full, Cho."
Choso stared at the wet spot, thumb still pressed there like he could not believe what he had done. His cock twitched again still out in the open. Half-hard and sensitive. "Baby... it's leaking so much. I can feel it. You're gonna walk around the mall like this?"
You nodded, leaning down to kiss his flushed cheek. "Mhm. All day. Every step I take, your cum will be soaking my panties and dripping down my thighs. And you'll know it's all because of how hard you came inside me, isn't that what you want?"
He groaned softly, hands sliding up to cup your tits again, squeezing them like he needed something to hold onto. The stall felt even hotter now, the air heavy with the smell of sex. Outside the door, the store worker called out cheerfully about other colours and shit but inside, it was just you two and the messy aftermath.
You stood up carefully, adjusting your top while Choso watched with hazy eyes. His cum kept leaking, the wet spot on your panties growing bigger, a constant reminder pressing against your clit with every movement.
"Ready to pay for all of this Choso?" you asked sweetly, already reaching for the pair you made a mess in. "Or do you need another minute to recover from stuffing your girlfriend full?"
Choso just nodded weakly, still dazed and fucked out, his thumb ghosting over the soaked fabric and down the slick skin of your thighs, once more before he tucked his cock away and stood up. Bikini season had never felt so filthy.
synopsis : satoru gojo's a real asshole. unfortunately, he's also the kind of asshole that keeps you spoiled enough to stay and desperate enough to never leave. funny how those two always seem to go hand in hand.
content warning : extremely toxic relationship • dumb and naive reader • manipulation • emotional abuse • gaslighting • degradation • humiliation • possessive behavior • coercive sexual relationship • dubious consent / coercive consent • power imbalance • financial dependence • objectification • virginity loss • bodyshaming • crying kink • oet names • kitty play • mean gojo • explicit sexual content • mdni • 18+.
GAME OVER.
Gojo threw his headphones across the room. They smacked straight into his friend’s chest with a dull thud.
"For fuck’s sake… why the hell are you cunts so fuckin' useless?"
The silence that followed was thick enough to chew. His friend rubbed the spot where the headphones hit. "Come on, man. They were actually good—"
"Good?" Gojo barked out a mean laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t make me laugh. You played like shit and now you’re defending it? Asshole."
The guy opened his mouth, then wisely closed it. What was the point, anyways? They were all spread out in Gojo’s massive room, on his expensive couch, playing on his PS5, breathing his filtered air.
Daddy’s money ran this whole damn house, and everyone knew it. Challenging him was a quick way to get tossed out on your ass. So his friend did the most sane thing, swallowing his pride straight up and stared at the floor.
Gojo shoved himself up from the couch, long legs kicking out hard enough to nail the guy dozing on the beanbag right in the ribs.
"Ouch— what the fuck, man?!" The sleeper jolted awake, blinking confused.
"Fuckin' useless. Go fuck your moms for all I care."
That one landed wrong. The only guy in the group with half a spine straightened up. "Hey. That’s too far. Watch your mouth."
Gojo froze mid-step, head turning slow like a predator catching a scent. The rest of the boys exchanged quick glances and started setting the controllers down real careful, as if any sudden movement might set him off.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Gojo’s voice dropped into a dangerous growl, blue eyes narrowing until they looked like shards of ice.
The guy put his hands up fast. "Easy, I didn’t mean—"
He didn’t get to finish. Gojo’s glare pinned him in place. "Out. All of you. Get the fuck out of my house."
He jerked his thumb toward the door. No one argued. They scrambled up, grabbing phones, hoodies, and whatever else they’d scattered across the floor, muttering curses under their breath just quiet enough that Gojo wouldn’t hear. Nobody wanted to test whether the prick would actually swing tonight.
In under a minute the room was empty except for the low hum of the AC and the faint smell of snacks.
Gojo rolled his shoulders, already over it. He yanked open his wardrobe, pulled on a black jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent, snatched his cap off the table, and grabbed his keys.
The anger was already cooling into something else. He thumbed open his phone, typed fast, and hit send without a second thought.
I’m coming over.
The message, of course, went unread. The supposed receiver was dead asleep, curled up in bed with that stupid teddy plushie clutched to the chest, completely unaware of the headache pulling into her apartment complex.
***
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
Satoru Gojo's patience lasted exactly three rings before it snapped in half. He leaned on the doorbell again, then switched to pounding his fist against the wood hard enough to rattle the frame.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
“Fuckin' bitch, the hell she doing in there?” he muttered, stalking over to the side window and trying to peer through the blinds like some pissed off burglar.
“OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR, Y/N!”
That, apparently was the magic phrase.
You snapped awake in bed, teddy plushie falling over to the floor. The knocking kept coming, angry and impatient. You scrambled up, bare feet slapping against the cool floor as you rushed to the door. Heart in your throat, you pressed your eye to the peephole.
And there he was. Satoru Gojo in all his furious glory, face flushed red, jaw locked tight like he was two seconds from kicking the door down and burning the whole damn building.
"Shit. He’s gonna kill me."
You quickly smoothed down your messy hair and tugged at your pajamas, trying to look at least halfway presentable before cracking the door open. Gojo's eyes dropped to you immediately, the kind of look reserved for people caught red-handed committing a crime.
“Where the fuck were you, bitch?” he barked, voice loud in the quiet hallway.
You flinched, lips trembling with shock. “M’sorry, Toru… I was asleep—”
“The hell are you still wearing those for?” He gestured at your baggy pajamas with clear disgust. “I told you I was coming over. Show some skin for fuck’s sake.”
Your brain was racing through every possible way you could’ve messed up. That poor little head of yours working overtime while your eyes started watering, the whites of them turning pink.
“I didn’t see it, Toru… don’t be mad. I'm sorry…” your voice cracked, tears spilling over before you could stop them.
Gojo rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. “For god’s sake, stop crying, y/n. Such a damn crybaby.”
“But you’re being so mean,” you whimpered, wiping at your damp cheeks. “I told you I was sleeping…”
He let out a long groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Ughhh, fine. Just go get changed already.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation. Gojo pushed past you like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. He gave you the apartment just so you’d have somewhere nice to live. No bills, no worries, just you waiting for him whenever he felt like blowing some load.
Win-win, he'd say. You got to live for free and spoiled, and he got a pretty dumb thing all to himself waiting for him.
He dropped onto the couch, legs spread wide, scrolling through his phone while you disappeared into the bedroom. A few minutes later the door clicked open again.
Gojo looked up slowly… and good heavens.
There you were, standing in the doorway in that white kitten fur bikini set he’d picked out himself. Tiny top barely holding your tits, bottoms sitting low on your hips, soft white kitty ears perched on your head and a matching tail swishing behind you with every nervous step. The tiny pink accents here and there made the whole thing look so cute and slutty at the same time.
Exactly what he wanted. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, the earlier anger melting into something hotter and darker.
In his defense, when he said he was coming over, that should've been enough. It always meant the same thing: drop whatever the fuck you’re doing and get ready for him. Pick the most scandalous set you own from all those slutty lingeries, barely-there scraps of fabric he’s filled your closet with. Each one worse (or better, depending how you look at it) than the last.
At this point you’ve got more of this shit than normal clothes, but isn’t that exactly how it’s supposed to be anyway?
He’s the man here. He protects you, provides for you, takes care of everything. All you gotta do is listen, do what he says, wear what he wants.
Your primary fucking job is to welcome him home like this. Dolled up in the little slutty set that makes his blood rush straight to his dick the second he walks through the door. So that he doesn’t just “want” to fuck you… he needs to.
He leaned back further into the couch, watching you walk over with a hungry stare, eyes dragging slow from your ears down to the soft sway of your hips and that ridiculous little tail.
Couldn't even blame himself for the way his cock jumped hard in his pants on the sight. Your tits looked so fucking soft and heavy in that tiny top, thin straps fighting for dear life just to keep them squeezed together. They bounced just right with every shy little step you took, enough to make any man with a dick bust a huge load of nut in his pants like a loser.
Yeah… he’d molded you into a perfect little slut.
You weren’t always like this, though. You swear you weren’t.
Just a clueless first-year wandering around campus, still trying to figure out where the hell the library was. That’s how you ended up pushing open the wrong classroom door at the exact wrong moment.
Satoru Gojo, the biggest asshole the campus had ever seen—pants half-down, sweet-talking some poor girl he’d spent days manipulating.
The girl’s eyes went wide when she saw you. She squeaked, yanked her skirt down, and bolted straight past you like her life depended on it.
You’d just stood there, blinking and mumbling, “Oh sorry—sorry, my bad,” before trying to close the door again.
Too fuckin' late.
Gojo had been furious. Anyone would be, right?
All that effort wasted because some dumb girl wandered in and decided to cockblock him. He’d cornered you in the empty hallway before you could even run, towering over you while you pouted and sniffled like a scared kitten.
The more you cried and stammered apologies, the harder he got. Something in that pretty, teary face flipped a switch in him. He made the decision right then and there: new prey acquired.
He eyed you up and down like fresh meat, that sharp instinct of his kicking in immediately. Because Satoru Gojo could smell virgins from a mile away. Something about the way their eyes went all wide and clueless. He saw it in you the second you walked in on him. Not a single fuckin' thought behind those pretty eyes.
He couldn’t believe his luck, honestly. Just when he thought one had slipped away from him, another one showed up. Even better, even dumber, practically offering herself up on a silver platter right in front of him. And the cherry on top? this one looked like she’d be so much easier.
“Ever been fucked?”
You blinked fast. Yup, you heard that right. First guy you ever meet on this campus and that’s his opener. No hi, no what’s your name, no you’re pretty. Straight to business.
“W—what??”
“I said…” his hand shot out, grabbing your waist hard enough to bruise as the other slid down under your skirt without any hesitation. Long fingers crawled up your thighs, rubbing slow rough circles right over your crotch through your panties. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “Has a cock been in this hole?”
You shook your head, slow and shaky.
“Words.”
“N-nooo…”
“Mhmm. Jackpot.”
Before you could even process it, he had your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you straight to his car like you were already his. One thing led to another and yeah, he kinda took your virginity the same night.
But hey, he was supposed to get laid and you ruined it for him. Isn't it your responsibility to fix it now?
Well, it's not like you were exactly complaining, even if you were scared shitless at first. The man had a tongue like a demon. He ate your little cunt for over an hour. Sucking, licking, kissing every inch until you were leaking wet and loose enough for his monster cock to finally push in. He stretched you open so good you saw stars, crying and shaking the whole time while he laughed low in your ear and told you to take it like a good girl.
And that was just the beginning.
He fucked you the next day. And the day after. And on most days, if not every damn day after that. Turned you into his personal cocksleeve who waited in the apartment he got you just so he could have easy access whenever he got bored or pissed off.
That’s how you met Satoru Gojo.
And that’s exactly how you ended up on his lap right now, dressed like a kitty whore while he squeezed your tits and smirked up at you with the same hungry look he had back then.
“Come on, baby… what’s with the face, hmm?” he asked, rocking his hips slow under you so your pretty body moved with every lazy thrust.
You kept pouting, sniffling like a spoiled brat. “Why did you shout at me…”
“Hmm, sorry baby, my bad… I was pissed, yeah?” his fingers tugged the fur cups of your bikini top down hard, letting your fat tits spill out and bounce free. He squeezed them immediately, thumbs flicking over your nipples.
“But what did I dooo…” you whined again, curling your fingers tight into his sleeves.
This fucking bitch. All he wanted was to blow off some steam after that shitty game by pumping you full of cum, and now he had to babysit a crybaby.
Whatever. Pussy was pussy.
He faked a sweet smile and leaned in, kissing your lips soft. “Not at you, silly. How could I be mad at you?”
“You’re such a liar… you were definitely mad at me…”
The tears started pouring again in broken little sobs, even while you kept grinding your soaked cunt carefully over his bulge.
Satoru’s left eye twitched. His big hands groped your tits harder, squeezing the soft heavy flesh. He likes to call them cow titties because they were so fucking big and he says it's useless and not pretty enough to look at, only good for using like cocksleeves. He’d never admit they looked goddamn perfect on you. He gave them another rough squeeze, face turning mean enough to shut you up.
“Anything to say?” he growled, grabbing two handfuls of your ass and spreading you wide. Your clit smashed right against his rock-hard cock through the fabric.
“Toruuu—nghhh, right there…” you moaned loud, starting to bounce on him with a vision now, tits flopping left and right with every desperate jump.
“How many fuckin' times do I gotta tell you to quit acting like a damn slut, huh?” he slapped your ass hard, the sharp crack making you squeak.
“I'm sorry Toru… please… wan’ it…”
“Oh yeah?” his hands locked on your hips and started bouncing you faster, helping you rub your pussy up and down his bulge. “Want what, baby?”
“Mmm… want you… to put it in… in me… please…”
Satoru threw his head back and laughed, loud and mean. Truth be told, he wasn’t even into girls like this. He liked them scared and shy, the kind who never asked for shit so he could take his sweet time breaking them. You used to be exactly like that too… until he trained you to be a house slut. His fault, really.
“Toruuu…” you called out again, still bouncing on him so eagerly, tits jiggling everywhere. “Please…”
“That so?” he suddenly stopped you, gripping your hips hard and grinding you down tight against his cock. “Do it yourself then.”
Your eyes lit up like he’d just handed you the moon. You quickly slid your bikini bottoms to the side, yanked his boxers down, and his thick cock sprang up, slapping heavy and hot right against your bare pussy.
“Owww…”
“Aww, he’s mean, huh?” he mocked, grinning at you.
You pouted but wrapped your shaky hand around that burning meat, thick veins pulsing under your fingers. You positioned the fat head right between your soaked folds and started rubbing him against your clit. The groan he let out was so loud you almost thought he came already.
“C’mere, fuckin’ god…” he pulled you flush against his chest, arms wrapping you up tight, your legs locking around his waist. His cock trapped between your leaking pussy lips, sliding messy through all that slick.
“Toruu…”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He started snapping his hips fast, humping your wet folds, fat head catching on your hole every thrust. Your lewd moans right in his ear made him leak precum like a faucet.
“Mmm Toru… ahhh please… too much… nghh…”
You were clinging to him for dear life, nails digging in while he humped your sloppy pussy like an animal. With one loud cry you came hard all over him, gushing wet and nasty. He followed right after, painting your pussy and inner thighs in thick white streaks of cum.
“Fuckin’ nasty…” he grinned down at your fucked-out face, surprised you looked this gone just from humping. He hadn’t even put it in. He had other plans, though.
“Get off,” he said, eyes turning cold in a heartbeat.
“Hmm? but whyy??” you blinked at the sudden switch.
“I said get off me.”
You obeyed, sliding off slow and shaky. He wiped his cock clean and buckled up, grabbing his jacket like he was done with you.
“But Toruu… we…”
“Didn’t fuck? yeah. Ain’t gonna do it. Gonna go find some other bitches.” He shrugged, pulling his jacket on.
“Toru nooo— what, please I’m sorry—”
At this point you didn’t even know what you were sorry for.
“Please Toru…” Tears started streaming down your face. “Don’t leave… please, I beg you...”
He ignored you completely, walking out and slamming the door behind him leaving you as you dropped on the floor half naked, sobbing loud, wondering what the fuck you did wrong and how hard you’d have to try just so he wouldn’t go fuck other girls.
Outside, Gojo walked to his car with a big shit eating grin.
There weren’t any other bitches. Hadn’t been since the day he met you. But you didn’t need to know that. Did you?
He wanted you right there. Desperate, messy, crying on the floor, his pretty little crybaby. Trying so hard to please him, head full of him. Because, as far as Gojo was concerned, that was exactly where you belonged.
"i'm not sleeping there." megumi pouted, arms crossed with his head turned as he stared at his bed placed next to yours.
"and what's that supposed to mean, brat?"
"i wanna sleep next to y/n."
you were trying to hold back your sigh, watching your boyfriend argue with his kid like his life depended on it.
"megumi, you have to be independent, you're all grown now!" you chirped, trying to convince him to sleep on the other mattress instead of biting his dad and hissing in his direction while you tried to get some shut eye.
"my dad's an old man, tell him to be independent!" megumi yelled, running into your arms so you'd pick him up—and you always did, because with his beady eyes and chubby cheeks, who could possibly resist it?
"your dad is independent, baby."
"no he's not! he's always sleeping on you!" you almost choked on your own spit, coughing while toji laughed like a menace behind you.
"toji grow up."
"i'm all good, doll."
he grunted, scratching the back of his neck before moving closer to you, placing a soft kiss on your cheek, before megumi punched him in the chest.
"ack—hands off of me your gremlin!"
"gumi don't hit your dad." you said, brushing his hair from his face before he looked up at you with the saddest expression in his eyes.
"i didn't do anything."
"gumi."
"i didn't!" he said, nuzzling into your neck, before lifting his head up to stare down his dad.
"good god, the two of you are the same."
"amazing?"
"handsome?" toji said, his shit eating grin spreading across his face, while you sighed.
"insufferable, but the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, i guess." you said before slowly lowering megumi to the ground, walking out of the room to finally get yourself a glass of water while toji stared down his son.
"she loves me more, y'know?"
"y/n says it's bad to lie, papa."
"oh you—."
he was only met with your restrained giggles from the kitchen, watching him bicker with his toddler, while your laugh echoed in the room was quite literally all he could ever ask for—because toji fushiguro never knew what it meant to want, let alone to have a life a softness handed to the palm of his hands. and toji fushiguro was a selfish man, he'd hold onto this as long as his bloodied hands could.
working on two gojo fics i promise!! i’m planning so many fics hehe
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
You've been married to him for years. What you find in the shed makes you question everything.
Pairing: Husband!Sukuna x fem!reader
CW: character death, murder / homicide, gore (blood, injuries), body horror, psychological manipulation / gaslighting, toxic relationship / unhealthy relationship dynamics, captivity / imprisonment, Implied cannibalism, mutual obsession
For my event INTERLACED
Ten years.
A whole decade.
Wasted.
You wear your wedding gift from him, always neatly tied or braided into your hair.
Ivory white and clean as a whistle. You kept it spotless.
A lace bow, with the most delicate trim and floral motifs.
Every day.
You loved Sukuna so much it hurt your heart at times, unable to properly show how much poured from your fingertips after touching his skin. Just a hug or a small kiss would have you flooded with love. All for him.
He was the same, you never knew any hardships when he was around, there to be a strong arm, a word that made you laugh, brightening your day. Never upset you, sure, he might be a bit rough around the edges, but you weren't perfect, either.
The purest kind of love and adoration, care.
Mutual obsession.
So when did it start going wrong?
Truthfully, you hadn't even noticed it. Nothing was amiss. Your mind about him is as spotless as your bow, your husband could do no wrong.
Nothing was wrong in your marriage, nothing had changed in your relationship.
But your surroundings were shifting.
Missing knives, but they were replaced with new, better ones a day or two after you began asking where they had gone. A safe tucked away in the closet, no clue what was inside.
"For our safety, sweetheart, you know how wild animals are."
Having to do more loads of laundry than usual. But Sukuna himself would do it, not letting you glance at his dirty clothes thrown into a pile in the middle of the hamper, reassuring you to leave it to him.
"Go rest, my flower. I'll handle it."
No questions about this odd tint of red around his fingernails that never went away.
Why was the shed locked shut?
The shed.
Just a regular tool shed, your husband kept his power tools and lawnmower there, nothing unusual for the house.
So why was it bolted shut day after day unless Sukuna strolled inside of it?
"Just working on some things in there, don't worry your pretty little head about it, alright, my doll?"
"You should be worrying more about watering the flowers instead of some junk in a rotting shed, my love."
Sweet words, easing your curious heart. He was a good man.
But you couldn't help yourself, could you?
Off at work, at least that's what your husband told you he was up to, not around to fill your ears with light whispers and reassurance of your growing paranoia.
It was starting to get cloudy outside, a storm rolling in from past the canopy of nearby trees. Your first sign not to step outside.
The second one was the lock on the wooden door.
You had the key, right?
Of course you did.
While searching for your slippers in the morning, you had peeked under the bed.
Taped on the underside of your husband's side was… something.
Now it was in your hands, your anxious, shaky hands.
Don't be nervous now, all you have to do is turn the lock.
Click.
You didn't reach for the handle yet, taking a shaky breath and shutting your eyes.
Sukuna wouldn't be mad, right?
No, no, he wouldn't.
The only way he spoke to you was through patience and gentle guidance. He'd just chuckle and show you what's inside himself, yes.
Manipulation and lies, sugarcoated to sound as tender as your flesh.
You didn't know, using that same feeling of safety to calm your nerves, peering at the door once again, your hand on the handle already, key in the lock.
Nothing to be uneasy about, it's just a shed with gardening tools and maybe some car parts. Stop feeling like you might get your neck snapped just by having a little look.
The door creaked open, louder than you would have liked. The treeline went silent after the uncomfortable noise. A third warning.
What you saw wasn't all that odd… the lawnmower in the corner, a grass trimmer, and a few shovels in a dark corner.
You stepped inside, leaving the door ajar.
The lamp in the middle of the shabby thing flicked awake after tugging on the string dangling down.
There was this faint smell of dread hiding behind the organization.
Your eyes flicked around, landing on the workbench at the far side. Your feet carrying you there before your brain.
A small jar of pulled teeth fell into your gaze.
Teeth?
The more you looked around, the items didn't seem so innocent anymore.
Thick rope and a few rusty saws tucked under the table.
Not rust.
Maybe the worst thing was a splotch of thick blood on the edge of a bucket filled with that same stench of impending doom.
It wasn't blood… just paint.
Your fingers reached out, you had to prove to yourself that it was nothing.
But the deep crimson stained your hand, the smell of iron hit your nose, and you couldn't keep the fantasy stable anymore.
Thunderclouds had hidden the sky completely outside, making the space darker than before.
The loud thuds of heavy raindrops hitting the tin roof of the shed rang through your ears, overwhelming your senses, hands trembling while looking at the glossy blood seeping into your nail beds.
You should not have left the door open.
"My flower, what are you doing in here?"
Sukuna had returned.
You snapped out of your trance, blinking and looking in his direction, hand reaching up to your head in search of the comfort of your lace bow, fiddling with it while watching your husband approach.
Rough hands cradled your face, gently checking if you had hurt yourself. Red irises did a horrible job of hiding his displeasure with you.
"You didn't harm yourself, did you? Oh my sweet girl… come here."
A hug, face smushed into the comfort of his chest. A steady heartbeat against your ear.
So he wasn't mad… good.
Your trembling hands clung to his back.
You couldn't see the way Sukuna's jaw clenched, nails itching to claw into your sides and squeeze you tight enough to have you pop.
"You shouldn't be in here. How about we go back inside and have dinner, hm?"
No questions about the key or your findings.
False safety.
Sukuna had taken you back in the house, sat you down, and helped heat up some food. It was silent while you ate, your fork barely able to cut through a soft vegetable, as the thought of the odd findings popped back into your mind.
"Sweetheart, why is your bow filthy? Messy girl."
Your fingers had stained a corner of it with the Incarnadine shade.
Scrubbing. Scratching, desperately washing both your hands and the lace, couldn't get rid of it.
You cried in his arms that night, gathered up in his chest, head lying against his.
Sukuna caressed your back, caressed your hair, and shushed you to sleep.
It was just a bow.
The truth was cracking from the seams everywhere you looked now. The house was lacking color, the dullness and real darkness creeping in from unlit corners. The ingredients in the pantry and the shelves in the fridge seemed to be rotten, tasteless.
Sukuna's face looked different, touching it made your skin tingle- as if it refused to connect with his.
Maybe it was because the romanticized image of him was losing its shape.
And maybe the fact that he refused to let you go outside.
No more garden work, too harsh for your puzzled mind.
The sun was too hot, even on a cloudy day.
You needed to relax, even after sleeping all day.
It was getting unbearable.
The front door was locked, the back door too. Sukuna was working in the study.
Trapped in your own safe haven, you needed to do something, so why not go down to the basement?
Your husband never said anything about the cold concrete box below the floorboards, knowing you were too scared to go there.
With nothing better to do, his logic was being proved false with every step you took down the squeaky stairs.
You found the light switch, getting a yellow, old hue illuminating the space.
Oh yeah, the freezers were down here.
Two, to be exact. Sukuna liked smoking meat and fish on sunny days, so you knew he used them to keep them frozen.
A little peek wouldn't do you any harm.
So what if your last gander took away your freedom to leave these walls? This was different.
As if.
The sound of the creaking steps had alerted him, no matter how slow you had gone.
Your tainted hands lifted the large hinged lid of the chest.
Just some plastic bags of red meat, parts of a pig, and venison. A large salmon head stared up at you from the side.
The eyes of the dead fish were gouged out.
The lid went back down, now wanting to see if the same contents were in the second one.
You should have stopped with the first one.
At first the same plastic bags stared up at you, what looked like minced meat and animal body parts.
Not that human hand though.
Sawed off from the bicep, a fleshy limb wrapped in the same plastic bag, but oozing crimson from the palm made eye contact with you.
The color drained from your face, doubling over and pulling the dismembered part out, your own arms shaking while looking at the frozen appendage.
Bile churned around in your stomach, a sour, watery taste taking over your mouth.
The stairs were still squeaky, making sound as heavy footsteps rushed down.
"Flower, what are you up to now?"
Once Sukuna's head went low enough from the upper floor, seeing the sight of you holding something you never were supposed to see.
Your hands dropped the bag immediately, clattering to the basement floor, a part of the bag opening, the smell of decayed flesh hit your nose once again.
"My angel, are you trying to get yourself in trouble again. It hurts me to keep you locked away, but if you keep fooling around, i might just keep you in one room and tend to you."
His voice was gruff, trying to sound smooth and caring, but it was clearly impossible to do so.
He tried to reach out to you, blunt nails touching your hair, easing you to step into his embrace. Just like any other time to have you calm down and trap you in his arms till he felt you'd deserve freedom.
His palm crushed your skull into his chest, Sukuna acting like he wanted to infuse you inside of his ribcage.
"Silly thing, must you keep poking your nose in my things?" He cooed into your hair, but you swore you could feel his canines trying to bite into the top of your head.
"We will go upstairs, watch a movie, and forget all about this-"
"No!"
You never spoke against him, so the sudden outburst had Sukuna's grip faltering, you shoved yourself off of him, looking more panicked than ever, not letting him worm his way into your logical thinking.
"Come back, you little…!"
You stumbled back, tripping over the same arm, trying to grab onto the freezer but it did nothing, crashing backwards with a thud.
Thankfully it only gave you a faint dizziness, scrambling up right after.
A tattooed arm wrapped around you, holding you tighter than before. He wouldn't let go now.
"You hit your head, my dear. It's bleeding. Maybe you shook your little brain back into place. I told you, we are forgetting about this and watching a fucking movie."
He dragged you back up the stair by your middle, not caring about you tripping over your own feet, not caring that you were looking at the melting limb on the ground and the image of pooling blood and peeling skin underneath a plastic sheen was the last thing engraved in your mind before the lights got switched off.
He sat you down, giving you a stern glare before disappearing into the bathroom to grab a first aid kit for your bleeding scalp.
The gash was above your bow, it still neatly wrapped into your hair, the thick red seeped into the middle of the ivory lace. Stained worse than before, just a few spots keeping the previous ivory color safe.
His fingers were gentle, parting your hair and cleaning the wound with stinging spirit. Your eyes blankly watched the subtitles flow as some old western movie played on the television.
You didn't dare look up, not wanting to see the cold glaze in his irises, knowing Sukuna wanted nothing but to take away your air and put you to sleep.
You weren't the one slumbering.
The only way you could end this nightmare was to snuff out the source.
It was past midnight, a large, full moon shining trough the tightly shut windows. Your bow hanging on by a few messy locks of hair, a bandaged wrapped around your skull with a red splotch on the back.
A knife, your favourite one to cut up fruit. The one with a pretty handle, engraved with both you and your sleeping husbands initials.
You stood over him, eyes almost bleary while watching Sukuna's peaceful expression. Like the day he asked for your hand, for the day he said he wanted to be yours. The day you bought a house together in the middle of nowhere.
If only you were strong enough, your breathing had turned shaky and bordering on gasping as your hand shook, unable to even process what you were about to do.
The last thing to give away your actions was a droplet, a salty and large teardrop rolling down your cheek and right on to Sukuna's lips.
His eyes shot open as if his senses were on high alert, an arm already reaching out to grab at you.
You didn't know what else to do besides listen to your mind- stumbling back and running as fast as you could.
Almost falling out of the bedroom after shoving the door open.
Sukuna didn't yell for you to get back. He was already chasing after you.
You couldn't hear a single thing, heart too loud in your ears- wanting to leap out of your mouth.
Glass shattered, sharp pain in your palms and legs while climbing trough the kitchen window.
Damp grass padding against your bare soles as you ran for the treeline, unable to breathe.
You don't know how far you ran.
Didn't know how long.
He caught up, he always did.
Why would such a silly girl like you think he had just let you go?
"My petal, where have you gone now? I can hear you."
It felt like he was right behind the tree you had hid, blunt nails digging into the handle of the knife you thankfully hadn't dropped.
You shut your eyes, holding your breath. But that was no use.
"My angel, come out."
Heavy footsteps approached, with no care stepping right past the thick bark of the tree.
A stab to the chest, your hands weak from fear but driven enough to push the blade right to his beating heart, ripping trough muscle.
Too shocked by your own action, the pain from the same type of sharpness slicing trough the side of your throat.
Maybe it was a bit romantic, the last time spent together, in each others arms, spluttering and struggling to breathe, buried in moss with a pale moon not even giving you the ability to see one another bleed out.
Sukuna had never kissed the top of your head as tenderly as right before his last breath.
"I love you."
Not like you could reply, blood filling your lungs and vocal chords sliced.
Already fading out together with the last beat of his heart.
The bow, the lacy thing no longer white, barely even recognizable by how much blood had been spilt.
Yoon's notes: hi guys sorry for the lame ass horror fic
You've been married to him for years. What you find in the shed makes you question everything.
Pairing: Husband!Sukuna x fem!reader
CW: character death, murder / homicide, gore (blood, injuries), body horror, psychological manipulation / gaslighting, toxic relationship / unhealthy relationship dynamics, captivity / imprisonment, Implied cannibalism, mutual obsession
For my event INTERLACED
Ten years.
A whole decade.
Wasted.
You wear your wedding gift from him, always neatly tied or braided into your hair.
Ivory white and clean as a whistle. You kept it spotless.
A lace bow, with the most delicate trim and floral motifs.
Every day.
You loved Sukuna so much it hurt your heart at times, unable to properly show how much poured from your fingertips after touching his skin. Just a hug or a small kiss would have you flooded with love. All for him.
He was the same, you never knew any hardships when he was around, there to be a strong arm, a word that made you laugh, brightening your day. Never upset you, sure, he might be a bit rough around the edges, but you weren't perfect, either.
The purest kind of love and adoration, care.
Mutual obsession.
So when did it start going wrong?
Truthfully, you hadn't even noticed it. Nothing was amiss. Your mind about him is as spotless as your bow, your husband could do no wrong.
Nothing was wrong in your marriage, nothing had changed in your relationship.
But your surroundings were shifting.
Missing knives, but they were replaced with new, better ones a day or two after you began asking where they had gone. A safe tucked away in the closet, no clue what was inside.
"For our safety, sweetheart, you know how wild animals are."
Having to do more loads of laundry than usual. But Sukuna himself would do it, not letting you glance at his dirty clothes thrown into a pile in the middle of the hamper, reassuring you to leave it to him.
"Go rest, my flower. I'll handle it."
No questions about this odd tint of red around his fingernails that never went away.
Why was the shed locked shut?
The shed.
Just a regular tool shed, your husband kept his power tools and lawnmower there, nothing unusual for the house.
So why was it bolted shut day after day unless Sukuna strolled inside of it?
"Just working on some things in there, don't worry your pretty little head about it, alright, my doll?"
"You should be worrying more about watering the flowers instead of some junk in a rotting shed, my love."
Sweet words, easing your curious heart. He was a good man.
But you couldn't help yourself, could you?
Off at work, at least that's what your husband told you he was up to, not around to fill your ears with light whispers and reassurance of your growing paranoia.
It was starting to get cloudy outside, a storm rolling in from past the canopy of nearby trees. Your first sign not to step outside.
The second one was the lock on the wooden door.
You had the key, right?
Of course you did.
While searching for your slippers in the morning, you had peeked under the bed.
Taped on the underside of your husband's side was… something.
Now it was in your hands, your anxious, shaky hands.
Don't be nervous now, all you have to do is turn the lock.
Click.
You didn't reach for the handle yet, taking a shaky breath and shutting your eyes.
Sukuna wouldn't be mad, right?
No, no, he wouldn't.
The only way he spoke to you was through patience and gentle guidance. He'd just chuckle and show you what's inside himself, yes.
Manipulation and lies, sugarcoated to sound as tender as your flesh.
You didn't know, using that same feeling of safety to calm your nerves, peering at the door once again, your hand on the handle already, key in the lock.
Nothing to be uneasy about, it's just a shed with gardening tools and maybe some car parts. Stop feeling like you might get your neck snapped just by having a little look.
The door creaked open, louder than you would have liked. The treeline went silent after the uncomfortable noise. A third warning.
What you saw wasn't all that odd… the lawnmower in the corner, a grass trimmer, and a few shovels in a dark corner.
You stepped inside, leaving the door ajar.
The lamp in the middle of the shabby thing flicked awake after tugging on the string dangling down.
There was this faint smell of dread hiding behind the organization.
Your eyes flicked around, landing on the workbench at the far side. Your feet carrying you there before your brain.
A small jar of pulled teeth fell into your gaze.
Teeth?
The more you looked around, the items didn't seem so innocent anymore.
Thick rope and a few rusty saws tucked under the table.
Not rust.
Maybe the worst thing was a splotch of thick blood on the edge of a bucket filled with that same stench of impending doom.
It wasn't blood… just paint.
Your fingers reached out, you had to prove to yourself that it was nothing.
But the deep crimson stained your hand, the smell of iron hit your nose, and you couldn't keep the fantasy stable anymore.
Thunderclouds had hidden the sky completely outside, making the space darker than before.
The loud thuds of heavy raindrops hitting the tin roof of the shed rang through your ears, overwhelming your senses, hands trembling while looking at the glossy blood seeping into your nail beds.
You should not have left the door open.
"My flower, what are you doing in here?"
Sukuna had returned.
You snapped out of your trance, blinking and looking in his direction, hand reaching up to your head in search of the comfort of your lace bow, fiddling with it while watching your husband approach.
Rough hands cradled your face, gently checking if you had hurt yourself. Red irises did a horrible job of hiding his displeasure with you.
"You didn't harm yourself, did you? Oh my sweet girl… come here."
A hug, face smushed into the comfort of his chest. A steady heartbeat against your ear.
So he wasn't mad… good.
Your trembling hands clung to his back.
You couldn't see the way Sukuna's jaw clenched, nails itching to claw into your sides and squeeze you tight enough to have you pop.
"You shouldn't be in here. How about we go back inside and have dinner, hm?"
No questions about the key or your findings.
False safety.
Sukuna had taken you back in the house, sat you down, and helped heat up some food. It was silent while you ate, your fork barely able to cut through a soft vegetable, as the thought of the odd findings popped back into your mind.
"Sweetheart, why is your bow filthy? Messy girl."
Your fingers had stained a corner of it with the Incarnadine shade.
Scrubbing. Scratching, desperately washing both your hands and the lace, couldn't get rid of it.
You cried in his arms that night, gathered up in his chest, head lying against his.
Sukuna caressed your back, caressed your hair, and shushed you to sleep.
It was just a bow.
The truth was cracking from the seams everywhere you looked now. The house was lacking color, the dullness and real darkness creeping in from unlit corners. The ingredients in the pantry and the shelves in the fridge seemed to be rotten, tasteless.
Sukuna's face looked different, touching it made your skin tingle- as if it refused to connect with his.
Maybe it was because the romanticized image of him was losing its shape.
And maybe the fact that he refused to let you go outside.
No more garden work, too harsh for your puzzled mind.
The sun was too hot, even on a cloudy day.
You needed to relax, even after sleeping all day.
It was getting unbearable.
The front door was locked, the back door too. Sukuna was working in the study.
Trapped in your own safe haven, you needed to do something, so why not go down to the basement?
Your husband never said anything about the cold concrete box below the floorboards, knowing you were too scared to go there.
With nothing better to do, his logic was being proved false with every step you took down the squeaky stairs.
You found the light switch, getting a yellow, old hue illuminating the space.
Oh yeah, the freezers were down here.
Two, to be exact. Sukuna liked smoking meat and fish on sunny days, so you knew he used them to keep them frozen.
A little peek wouldn't do you any harm.
So what if your last gander took away your freedom to leave these walls? This was different.
As if.
The sound of the creaking steps had alerted him, no matter how slow you had gone.
Your tainted hands lifted the large hinged lid of the chest.
Just some plastic bags of red meat, parts of a pig, and venison. A large salmon head stared up at you from the side.
The eyes of the dead fish were gouged out.
The lid went back down, now wanting to see if the same contents were in the second one.
You should have stopped with the first one.
At first the same plastic bags stared up at you, what looked like minced meat and animal body parts.
Not that human hand though.
Sawed off from the bicep, a fleshy limb wrapped in the same plastic bag, but oozing crimson from the palm made eye contact with you.
The color drained from your face, doubling over and pulling the dismembered part out, your own arms shaking while looking at the frozen appendage.
Bile churned around in your stomach, a sour, watery taste taking over your mouth.
The stairs were still squeaky, making sound as heavy footsteps rushed down.
"Flower, what are you up to now?"
Once Sukuna's head went low enough from the upper floor, seeing the sight of you holding something you never were supposed to see.
Your hands dropped the bag immediately, clattering to the basement floor, a part of the bag opening, the smell of decayed flesh hit your nose once again.
"My angel, are you trying to get yourself in trouble again. It hurts me to keep you locked away, but if you keep fooling around, i might just keep you in one room and tend to you."
His voice was gruff, trying to sound smooth and caring, but it was clearly impossible to do so.
He tried to reach out to you, blunt nails touching your hair, easing you to step into his embrace. Just like any other time to have you calm down and trap you in his arms till he felt you'd deserve freedom.
His palm crushed your skull into his chest, Sukuna acting like he wanted to infuse you inside of his ribcage.
"Silly thing, must you keep poking your nose in my things?" He cooed into your hair, but you swore you could feel his canines trying to bite into the top of your head.
"We will go upstairs, watch a movie, and forget all about this-"
"No!"
You never spoke against him, so the sudden outburst had Sukuna's grip faltering, you shoved yourself off of him, looking more panicked than ever, not letting him worm his way into your logical thinking.
"Come back, you little…!"
You stumbled back, tripping over the same arm, trying to grab onto the freezer but it did nothing, crashing backwards with a thud.
Thankfully it only gave you a faint dizziness, scrambling up right after.
A tattooed arm wrapped around you, holding you tighter than before. He wouldn't let go now.
"You hit your head, my dear. It's bleeding. Maybe you shook your little brain back into place. I told you, we are forgetting about this and watching a fucking movie."
He dragged you back up the stair by your middle, not caring about you tripping over your own feet, not caring that you were looking at the melting limb on the ground and the image of pooling blood and peeling skin underneath a plastic sheen was the last thing engraved in your mind before the lights got switched off.
He sat you down, giving you a stern glare before disappearing into the bathroom to grab a first aid kit for your bleeding scalp.
The gash was above your bow, it still neatly wrapped into your hair, the thick red seeped into the middle of the ivory lace. Stained worse than before, just a few spots keeping the previous ivory color safe.
His fingers were gentle, parting your hair and cleaning the wound with stinging spirit. Your eyes blankly watched the subtitles flow as some old western movie played on the television.
You didn't dare look up, not wanting to see the cold glaze in his irises, knowing Sukuna wanted nothing but to take away your air and put you to sleep.
You weren't the one slumbering.
The only way you could end this nightmare was to snuff out the source.
It was past midnight, a large, full moon shining trough the tightly shut windows. Your bow hanging on by a few messy locks of hair, a bandaged wrapped around your skull with a red splotch on the back.
A knife, your favourite one to cut up fruit. The one with a pretty handle, engraved with both you and your sleeping husbands initials.
You stood over him, eyes almost bleary while watching Sukuna's peaceful expression. Like the day he asked for your hand, for the day he said he wanted to be yours. The day you bought a house together in the middle of nowhere.
If only you were strong enough, your breathing had turned shaky and bordering on gasping as your hand shook, unable to even process what you were about to do.
The last thing to give away your actions was a droplet, a salty and large teardrop rolling down your cheek and right on to Sukuna's lips.
His eyes shot open as if his senses were on high alert, an arm already reaching out to grab at you.
You didn't know what else to do besides listen to your mind- stumbling back and running as fast as you could.
Almost falling out of the bedroom after shoving the door open.
Sukuna didn't yell for you to get back. He was already chasing after you.
You couldn't hear a single thing, heart too loud in your ears- wanting to leap out of your mouth.
Glass shattered, sharp pain in your palms and legs while climbing trough the kitchen window.
Damp grass padding against your bare soles as you ran for the treeline, unable to breathe.
You don't know how far you ran.
Didn't know how long.
He caught up, he always did.
Why would such a silly girl like you think he had just let you go?
"My petal, where have you gone now? I can hear you."
It felt like he was right behind the tree you had hid, blunt nails digging into the handle of the knife you thankfully hadn't dropped.
You shut your eyes, holding your breath. But that was no use.
"My angel, come out."
Heavy footsteps approached, with no care stepping right past the thick bark of the tree.
A stab to the chest, your hands weak from fear but driven enough to push the blade right to his beating heart, ripping trough muscle.
Too shocked by your own action, the pain from the same type of sharpness slicing trough the side of your throat.
Maybe it was a bit romantic, the last time spent together, in each others arms, spluttering and struggling to breathe, buried in moss with a pale moon not even giving you the ability to see one another bleed out.
Sukuna had never kissed the top of your head as tenderly as right before his last breath.
"I love you."
Not like you could reply, blood filling your lungs and vocal chords sliced.
Already fading out together with the last beat of his heart.
The bow, the lacy thing no longer white, barely even recognizable by how much blood had been spilt.
Yoon's notes: hi guys sorry for the lame ass horror fic
You've been married to him for years. What you find in the shed makes you question everything.
Pairing: Husband!Sukuna x fem!reader
CW: character death, murder / homicide, gore (blood, injuries), body horror, psychological manipulation / gaslighting, toxic relationship / unhealthy relationship dynamics, captivity / imprisonment, Implied cannibalism, mutual obsession
For my event INTERLACED
Ten years.
A whole decade.
Wasted.
You wear your wedding gift from him, always neatly tied or braided into your hair.
Ivory white and clean as a whistle. You kept it spotless.
A lace bow, with the most delicate trim and floral motifs.
Every day.
You loved Sukuna so much it hurt your heart at times, unable to properly show how much poured from your fingertips after touching his skin. Just a hug or a small kiss would have you flooded with love. All for him.
He was the same, you never knew any hardships when he was around, there to be a strong arm, a word that made you laugh, brightening your day. Never upset you, sure, he might be a bit rough around the edges, but you weren't perfect, either.
The purest kind of love and adoration, care.
Mutual obsession.
So when did it start going wrong?
Truthfully, you hadn't even noticed it. Nothing was amiss. Your mind about him is as spotless as your bow, your husband could do no wrong.
Nothing was wrong in your marriage, nothing had changed in your relationship.
But your surroundings were shifting.
Missing knives, but they were replaced with new, better ones a day or two after you began asking where they had gone. A safe tucked away in the closet, no clue what was inside.
"For our safety, sweetheart, you know how wild animals are."
Having to do more loads of laundry than usual. But Sukuna himself would do it, not letting you glance at his dirty clothes thrown into a pile in the middle of the hamper, reassuring you to leave it to him.
"Go rest, my flower. I'll handle it."
No questions about this odd tint of red around his fingernails that never went away.
Why was the shed locked shut?
The shed.
Just a regular tool shed, your husband kept his power tools and lawnmower there, nothing unusual for the house.
So why was it bolted shut day after day unless Sukuna strolled inside of it?
"Just working on some things in there, don't worry your pretty little head about it, alright, my doll?"
"You should be worrying more about watering the flowers instead of some junk in a rotting shed, my love."
Sweet words, easing your curious heart. He was a good man.
But you couldn't help yourself, could you?
Off at work, at least that's what your husband told you he was up to, not around to fill your ears with light whispers and reassurance of your growing paranoia.
It was starting to get cloudy outside, a storm rolling in from past the canopy of nearby trees. Your first sign not to step outside.
The second one was the lock on the wooden door.
You had the key, right?
Of course you did.
While searching for your slippers in the morning, you had peeked under the bed.
Taped on the underside of your husband's side was… something.
Now it was in your hands, your anxious, shaky hands.
Don't be nervous now, all you have to do is turn the lock.
Click.
You didn't reach for the handle yet, taking a shaky breath and shutting your eyes.
Sukuna wouldn't be mad, right?
No, no, he wouldn't.
The only way he spoke to you was through patience and gentle guidance. He'd just chuckle and show you what's inside himself, yes.
Manipulation and lies, sugarcoated to sound as tender as your flesh.
You didn't know, using that same feeling of safety to calm your nerves, peering at the door once again, your hand on the handle already, key in the lock.
Nothing to be uneasy about, it's just a shed with gardening tools and maybe some car parts. Stop feeling like you might get your neck snapped just by having a little look.
The door creaked open, louder than you would have liked. The treeline went silent after the uncomfortable noise. A third warning.
What you saw wasn't all that odd… the lawnmower in the corner, a grass trimmer, and a few shovels in a dark corner.
You stepped inside, leaving the door ajar.
The lamp in the middle of the shabby thing flicked awake after tugging on the string dangling down.
There was this faint smell of dread hiding behind the organization.
Your eyes flicked around, landing on the workbench at the far side. Your feet carrying you there before your brain.
A small jar of pulled teeth fell into your gaze.
Teeth?
The more you looked around, the items didn't seem so innocent anymore.
Thick rope and a few rusty saws tucked under the table.
Not rust.
Maybe the worst thing was a splotch of thick blood on the edge of a bucket filled with that same stench of impending doom.
It wasn't blood… just paint.
Your fingers reached out, you had to prove to yourself that it was nothing.
But the deep crimson stained your hand, the smell of iron hit your nose, and you couldn't keep the fantasy stable anymore.
Thunderclouds had hidden the sky completely outside, making the space darker than before.
The loud thuds of heavy raindrops hitting the tin roof of the shed rang through your ears, overwhelming your senses, hands trembling while looking at the glossy blood seeping into your nail beds.
You should not have left the door open.
"My flower, what are you doing in here?"
Sukuna had returned.
You snapped out of your trance, blinking and looking in his direction, hand reaching up to your head in search of the comfort of your lace bow, fiddling with it while watching your husband approach.
Rough hands cradled your face, gently checking if you had hurt yourself. Red irises did a horrible job of hiding his displeasure with you.
"You didn't harm yourself, did you? Oh my sweet girl… come here."
A hug, face smushed into the comfort of his chest. A steady heartbeat against your ear.
So he wasn't mad… good.
Your trembling hands clung to his back.
You couldn't see the way Sukuna's jaw clenched, nails itching to claw into your sides and squeeze you tight enough to have you pop.
"You shouldn't be in here. How about we go back inside and have dinner, hm?"
No questions about the key or your findings.
False safety.
Sukuna had taken you back in the house, sat you down, and helped heat up some food. It was silent while you ate, your fork barely able to cut through a soft vegetable, as the thought of the odd findings popped back into your mind.
"Sweetheart, why is your bow filthy? Messy girl."
Your fingers had stained a corner of it with the Incarnadine shade.
Scrubbing. Scratching, desperately washing both your hands and the lace, couldn't get rid of it.
You cried in his arms that night, gathered up in his chest, head lying against his.
Sukuna caressed your back, caressed your hair, and shushed you to sleep.
It was just a bow.
The truth was cracking from the seams everywhere you looked now. The house was lacking color, the dullness and real darkness creeping in from unlit corners. The ingredients in the pantry and the shelves in the fridge seemed to be rotten, tasteless.
Sukuna's face looked different, touching it made your skin tingle- as if it refused to connect with his.
Maybe it was because the romanticized image of him was losing its shape.
And maybe the fact that he refused to let you go outside.
No more garden work, too harsh for your puzzled mind.
The sun was too hot, even on a cloudy day.
You needed to relax, even after sleeping all day.
It was getting unbearable.
The front door was locked, the back door too. Sukuna was working in the study.
Trapped in your own safe haven, you needed to do something, so why not go down to the basement?
Your husband never said anything about the cold concrete box below the floorboards, knowing you were too scared to go there.
With nothing better to do, his logic was being proved false with every step you took down the squeaky stairs.
You found the light switch, getting a yellow, old hue illuminating the space.
Oh yeah, the freezers were down here.
Two, to be exact. Sukuna liked smoking meat and fish on sunny days, so you knew he used them to keep them frozen.
A little peek wouldn't do you any harm.
So what if your last gander took away your freedom to leave these walls? This was different.
As if.
The sound of the creaking steps had alerted him, no matter how slow you had gone.
Your tainted hands lifted the large hinged lid of the chest.
Just some plastic bags of red meat, parts of a pig, and venison. A large salmon head stared up at you from the side.
The eyes of the dead fish were gouged out.
The lid went back down, now wanting to see if the same contents were in the second one.
You should have stopped with the first one.
At first the same plastic bags stared up at you, what looked like minced meat and animal body parts.
Not that human hand though.
Sawed off from the bicep, a fleshy limb wrapped in the same plastic bag, but oozing crimson from the palm made eye contact with you.
The color drained from your face, doubling over and pulling the dismembered part out, your own arms shaking while looking at the frozen appendage.
Bile churned around in your stomach, a sour, watery taste taking over your mouth.
The stairs were still squeaky, making sound as heavy footsteps rushed down.
"Flower, what are you up to now?"
Once Sukuna's head went low enough from the upper floor, seeing the sight of you holding something you never were supposed to see.
Your hands dropped the bag immediately, clattering to the basement floor, a part of the bag opening, the smell of decayed flesh hit your nose once again.
"My angel, are you trying to get yourself in trouble again. It hurts me to keep you locked away, but if you keep fooling around, i might just keep you in one room and tend to you."
His voice was gruff, trying to sound smooth and caring, but it was clearly impossible to do so.
He tried to reach out to you, blunt nails touching your hair, easing you to step into his embrace. Just like any other time to have you calm down and trap you in his arms till he felt you'd deserve freedom.
His palm crushed your skull into his chest, Sukuna acting like he wanted to infuse you inside of his ribcage.
"Silly thing, must you keep poking your nose in my things?" He cooed into your hair, but you swore you could feel his canines trying to bite into the top of your head.
"We will go upstairs, watch a movie, and forget all about this-"
"No!"
You never spoke against him, so the sudden outburst had Sukuna's grip faltering, you shoved yourself off of him, looking more panicked than ever, not letting him worm his way into your logical thinking.
"Come back, you little…!"
You stumbled back, tripping over the same arm, trying to grab onto the freezer but it did nothing, crashing backwards with a thud.
Thankfully it only gave you a faint dizziness, scrambling up right after.
A tattooed arm wrapped around you, holding you tighter than before. He wouldn't let go now.
"You hit your head, my dear. It's bleeding. Maybe you shook your little brain back into place. I told you, we are forgetting about this and watching a fucking movie."
He dragged you back up the stair by your middle, not caring about you tripping over your own feet, not caring that you were looking at the melting limb on the ground and the image of pooling blood and peeling skin underneath a plastic sheen was the last thing engraved in your mind before the lights got switched off.
He sat you down, giving you a stern glare before disappearing into the bathroom to grab a first aid kit for your bleeding scalp.
The gash was above your bow, it still neatly wrapped into your hair, the thick red seeped into the middle of the ivory lace. Stained worse than before, just a few spots keeping the previous ivory color safe.
His fingers were gentle, parting your hair and cleaning the wound with stinging spirit. Your eyes blankly watched the subtitles flow as some old western movie played on the television.
You didn't dare look up, not wanting to see the cold glaze in his irises, knowing Sukuna wanted nothing but to take away your air and put you to sleep.
You weren't the one slumbering.
The only way you could end this nightmare was to snuff out the source.
It was past midnight, a large, full moon shining trough the tightly shut windows. Your bow hanging on by a few messy locks of hair, a bandaged wrapped around your skull with a red splotch on the back.
A knife, your favourite one to cut up fruit. The one with a pretty handle, engraved with both you and your sleeping husbands initials.
You stood over him, eyes almost bleary while watching Sukuna's peaceful expression. Like the day he asked for your hand, for the day he said he wanted to be yours. The day you bought a house together in the middle of nowhere.
If only you were strong enough, your breathing had turned shaky and bordering on gasping as your hand shook, unable to even process what you were about to do.
The last thing to give away your actions was a droplet, a salty and large teardrop rolling down your cheek and right on to Sukuna's lips.
His eyes shot open as if his senses were on high alert, an arm already reaching out to grab at you.
You didn't know what else to do besides listen to your mind- stumbling back and running as fast as you could.
Almost falling out of the bedroom after shoving the door open.
Sukuna didn't yell for you to get back. He was already chasing after you.
You couldn't hear a single thing, heart too loud in your ears- wanting to leap out of your mouth.
Glass shattered, sharp pain in your palms and legs while climbing trough the kitchen window.
Damp grass padding against your bare soles as you ran for the treeline, unable to breathe.
You don't know how far you ran.
Didn't know how long.
He caught up, he always did.
Why would such a silly girl like you think he had just let you go?
"My petal, where have you gone now? I can hear you."
It felt like he was right behind the tree you had hid, blunt nails digging into the handle of the knife you thankfully hadn't dropped.
You shut your eyes, holding your breath. But that was no use.
"My angel, come out."
Heavy footsteps approached, with no care stepping right past the thick bark of the tree.
A stab to the chest, your hands weak from fear but driven enough to push the blade right to his beating heart, ripping trough muscle.
Too shocked by your own action, the pain from the same type of sharpness slicing trough the side of your throat.
Maybe it was a bit romantic, the last time spent together, in each others arms, spluttering and struggling to breathe, buried in moss with a pale moon not even giving you the ability to see one another bleed out.
Sukuna had never kissed the top of your head as tenderly as right before his last breath.
"I love you."
Not like you could reply, blood filling your lungs and vocal chords sliced.
Already fading out together with the last beat of his heart.
The bow, the lacy thing no longer white, barely even recognizable by how much blood had been spilt.
Yoon's notes: hi guys sorry for the lame ass horror fic
You've been married to him for years. What you find in the shed makes you question everything.
Pairing: Husband!Sukuna x fem!reader
CW: character death, murder / homicide, gore (blood, injuries), body horror, psychological manipulation / gaslighting, toxic relationship / unhealthy relationship dynamics, captivity / imprisonment / isolation, Implied cannibalism, mutual obsession
For my event INTERLACED
Ten years.
A whole decade.
Wasted.
You wear your wedding gift from him, always neatly tied or braided into your hair.
Ivory white and clean as a whistle. You kept it spotless.
A lace bow, with the most delicate trim and floral motifs.
Every day.
You loved Sukuna so much it hurt your heart at times, unable to properly show how much poured from your fingertips after touching his skin. Just a hug or a small kiss would have you flooded with love. All for him.
He was the same, you never knew any hardships when he was around, there to be a strong arm, a word that made you laugh, brightening your day. Never upset you, sure, he might be a bit rough around the edges, but you weren't perfect, either.
The purest kind of love and adoration, care.
Mutual obsession.
So when did it start going wrong?
Truthfully, you hadn't even noticed it. Nothing was amiss. Your mind about him is as spotless as your bow, your husband could do no wrong.
Nothing was wrong in your marriage, nothing had changed in your relationship.
But your surroundings were shifting.
Missing knives, but they were replaced with new, better ones a day or two after you began asking where they had gone. A safe tucked away in the closet, no clue what was inside.
"For our safety, sweetheart, you know how wild animals are."
Having to do more loads of laundry than usual. But Sukuna himself would do it, not letting you glance at his dirty clothes thrown into a pile in the middle of the hamper, reassuring you to leave it to him.
"Go rest, my flower. I'll handle it."
No questions about this odd tint of red around his fingernails that never went away.
Why was the shed locked shut?
The shed.
Just a regular tool shed, your husband kept his power tools and lawnmower there, nothing unusual for the house.
So why was it bolted shut day after day unless Sukuna strolled inside of it?
"Just working on some things in there, don't worry your pretty little head about it, alright, my doll?"
"You should be worrying more about watering the flowers instead of some junk in a rotting shed, my love."
Sweet words, easing your curious heart. He was a good man.
But you couldn't help yourself, could you?
Off at work, at least that's what your husband told you he was up to, not around to fill your ears with light whispers and reassurance of your growing paranoia.
It was starting to get cloudy outside, a storm rolling in from past the canopy of nearby trees. Your first sign not to step outside.
The second one was the lock on the wooden door.
You had the key, right?
Of course you did.
While searching for your slippers in the morning, you had peeked under the bed.
Taped on the underside of your husband's side was… something.
Now it was in your hands, your anxious, shaky hands.
Don't be nervous now, all you have to do is turn the lock.
Click.
You didn't reach for the handle yet, taking a shaky breath and shutting your eyes.
Sukuna wouldn't be mad, right?
No, no, he wouldn't.
The only way he spoke to you was through patience and gentle guidance. He'd just chuckle and show you what's inside himself, yes.
Manipulation and lies, sugarcoated to sound as tender as your flesh.
You didn't know, using that same feeling of safety to calm your nerves, peering at the door once again, your hand on the handle already, key in the lock.
Nothing to be uneasy about, it's just a shed with gardening tools and maybe some car parts. Stop feeling like you might get your neck snapped just by having a little look.
The door creaked open, louder than you would have liked. The treeline went silent after the uncomfortable noise. A third warning.
What you saw wasn't all that odd… the lawnmower in the corner, a grass trimmer, and a few shovels in a dark corner.
You stepped inside, leaving the door ajar.
The lamp in the middle of the shabby thing flicked awake after tugging on the string dangling down.
There was this faint smell of dread hiding behind the organization.
Your eyes flicked around, landing on the workbench at the far side. Your feet carrying you there before your brain.
A small jar of pulled teeth fell into your gaze.
Teeth?
The more you looked around, the items didn't seem so innocent anymore.
Thick rope and a few rusty saws tucked under the table.
Not rust.
Maybe the worst thing was a splotch of thick blood on the edge of a bucket filled with that same stench of impending doom.
It wasn't blood… just paint.
Your fingers reached out, you had to prove to yourself that it was nothing.
But the deep crimson stained your hand, the smell of iron hit your nose, and you couldn't keep the fantasy stable anymore.
Thunderclouds had hidden the sky completely outside, making the space darker than before.
The loud thuds of heavy raindrops hitting the tin roof of the shed rang through your ears, overwhelming your senses, hands trembling while looking at the glossy blood seeping into your nail beds.
You should not have left the door open.
"My flower, what are you doing in here?"
Sukuna had returned.
You snapped out of your trance, blinking and looking in his direction, hand reaching up to your head in search of the comfort of your lace bow, fiddling with it while watching your husband approach.
Rough hands cradled your face, gently checking if you had hurt yourself. Red irises did a horrible job of hiding his displeasure with you.
"You didn't harm yourself, did you? Oh my sweet girl… come here."
A hug, face smushed into the comfort of his chest. A steady heartbeat against your ear.
So he wasn't mad… good.
Your trembling hands clung to his back.
You couldn't see the way Sukuna's jaw clenched, nails itching to claw into your sides and squeeze you tight enough to have you pop.
"You shouldn't be in here. How about we go back inside and have dinner, hm?"
No questions about the key or your findings.
False safety.
Sukuna had taken you back in the house, sat you down, and helped heat up some food. It was silent while you ate, your fork barely able to cut through a soft vegetable, as the thought of the odd findings popped back into your mind.
"Sweetheart, why is your bow filthy? Messy girl."
Your fingers had stained a corner of it with the Incarnadine shade.
Scrubbing. Scratching, desperately washing both your hands and the lace, couldn't get rid of it.
You cried in his arms that night, gathered up in his chest, head lying against his.
Sukuna caressed your back, caressed your hair, and shushed you to sleep.
It was just a bow.
The truth was cracking from the seams everywhere you looked now. The house was lacking color, the dullness and real darkness creeping in from unlit corners. The ingredients in the pantry and the shelves in the fridge seemed to be rotten, tasteless.
Sukuna's face looked different, touching it made your skin tingle- as if it refused to connect with his.
Maybe it was because the romanticized image of him was losing its shape.
And maybe the fact that he refused to let you go outside.
No more garden work, too harsh for your puzzled mind.
The sun was too hot, even on a cloudy day.
You needed to relax, even after sleeping all day.
It was getting unbearable.
The front door was locked, the back door too. Sukuna was working in the study.
Trapped in your own safe haven, you needed to do something, so why not go down to the basement?
Your husband never said anything about the cold concrete box below the floorboards, knowing you were too scared to go there.
With nothing better to do, his logic was being proved false with every step you took down the squeaky stairs.
You found the light switch, getting a yellow, old hue illuminating the space.
Oh yeah, the freezers were down here.
Two, to be exact. Sukuna liked smoking meat and fish on sunny days, so you knew he used them to keep them frozen.
A little peek wouldn't do you any harm.
So what if your last gander took away your freedom to leave these walls? This was different.
As if.
The sound of the creaking steps had alerted him, no matter how slow you had gone.
Your tainted hands lifted the large hinged lid of the chest.
Just some plastic bags of red meat, parts of a pig, and venison. A large salmon head stared up at you from the side.
The eyes of the dead fish were gouged out.
The lid went back down, now wanting to see if the same contents were in the second one.
You should have stopped with the first one.
At first the same plastic bags stared up at you, what looked like minced meat and animal body parts.
Not that human hand though.
Sawed off from the bicep, a fleshy limb wrapped in the same plastic bag, but oozing crimson from the palm made eye contact with you.
The color drained from your face, doubling over and pulling the dismembered part out, your own arms shaking while looking at the frozen appendage.
Bile churned around in your stomach, a sour, watery taste taking over your mouth.
The stairs were still squeaky, making sound as heavy footsteps rushed down.
"Flower, what are you up to now?"
Once Sukuna's head went low enough from the upper floor, seeing the sight of you holding something you never were supposed to see.
Your hands dropped the bag immediately, clattering to the basement floor, a part of the bag opening, the smell of decayed flesh hit your nose once again.
"My angel, are you trying to get yourself in trouble again. It hurts me to keep you locked away, but if you keep fooling around, i might just keep you in one room and tend to you."
His voice was gruff, trying to sound smooth and caring, but it was clearly impossible to do so.
He tried to reach out to you, blunt nails touching your hair, easing you to step into his embrace. Just like any other time to have you calm down and trap you in his arms till he felt you'd deserve freedom.
His palm crushed your skull into his chest, Sukuna acting like he wanted to infuse you inside of his ribcage.
"Silly thing, must you keep poking your nose in my things?" He cooed into your hair, but you swore you could feel his canines trying to bite into the top of your head.
"We will go upstairs, watch a movie, and forget all about this-"
"No!"
You never spoke against him, so the sudden outburst had Sukuna's grip faltering, you shoved yourself off of him, looking more panicked than ever, not letting him worm his way into your logical thinking.
"Come back, you little…!"
You stumbled back, tripping over the same arm, trying to grab onto the freezer but it did nothing, crashing backwards with a thud.
Thankfully it only gave you a faint dizziness, scrambling up right after.
A tattooed arm wrapped around you, holding you tighter than before. He wouldn't let go now.
"You hit your head, my dear. It's bleeding. Maybe you shook your little brain back into place. I told you, we are forgetting about this and watching a fucking movie."
He dragged you back up the stair by your middle, not caring about you tripping over your own feet, not caring that you were looking at the melting limb on the ground and the image of pooling blood and peeling skin underneath a plastic sheen was the last thing engraved in your mind before the lights got switched off.
He sat you down, giving you a stern glare before disappearing into the bathroom to grab a first aid kit for your bleeding scalp.
The gash was above your bow, it still neatly wrapped into your hair, the thick red seeped into the middle of the ivory lace. Stained worse than before, just a few spots keeping the previous ivory color safe.
His fingers were gentle, parting your hair and cleaning the wound with stinging spirit. Your eyes blankly watched the subtitles flow as some old western movie played on the television.
You didn't dare look up, not wanting to see the cold glaze in his irises, knowing Sukuna wanted nothing but to take away your air and put you to sleep.
You weren't the one slumbering.
The only way you could end this nightmare was to snuff out the source.
It was past midnight, a large, full moon shining trough the tightly shut windows. Your bow hanging on by a few messy locks of hair, a bandaged wrapped around your skull with a red splotch on the back.
A knife, your favourite one to cut up fruit. The one with a pretty handle, engraved with both you and your sleeping husbands initials.
You stood over him, eyes almost bleary while watching Sukuna's peaceful expression. Like the day he asked for your hand, for the day he said he wanted to be yours. The day you bought a house together in the middle of nowhere.
If only you were strong enough, your breathing had turned shaky and bordering on gasping as your hand shook, unable to even process what you were about to do.
The last thing to give away your actions was a droplet, a salty and large teardrop rolling down your cheek and right on to Sukuna's lips.
His eyes shot open as if his senses were on high alert, an arm already reaching out to grab at you.
You didn't know what else to do besides listen to your mind- stumbling back and running as fast as you could.
Almost falling out of the bedroom after shoving the door open.
Sukuna didn't yell for you to get back. He was already chasing after you.
You couldn't hear a single thing, heart too loud in your ears- wanting to leap out of your mouth.
Glass shattered, sharp pain in your palms and legs while climbing trough the kitchen window.
Damp grass padding against your bare soles as you ran for the treeline, unable to breathe.
You don't know how far you ran.
Didn't know how long.
He caught up, he always did.
Why would such a silly girl like you think he had just let you go?
"My petal, where have you gone now? I can hear you."
It felt like he was right behind the tree you had hid, blunt nails digging into the handle of the knife you thankfully hadn't dropped.
You shut your eyes, holding your breath. But that was no use.
"My angel, come out."
Heavy footsteps approached, with no care stepping right past the thick bark of the tree.
A stab to the chest, your hands weak from fear but driven enough to push the blade right to his beating heart, ripping trough muscle.
Too shocked by your own action, the pain from the same type of sharpness slicing trough the side of your throat.
Maybe it was a bit romantic, the last time spent together, in each others arms, spluttering and struggling to breathe, buried in moss with a pale moon not even giving you the ability to see one another bleed out.
Sukuna had never kissed the top of your head as tenderly as right before his last breath.
"I love you."
Not like you could reply, blood filling your lungs and vocal chords sliced.
Already fading out together with the last beat of his heart.
The bow, the lacy thing no longer white, barely even recognizable by how much blood had been spilt.
Yoon's notes: hi guys sorry for the lame ass horror fic
You've been married to him for years. What you find in the shed makes you question everything.
Pairing: Husband!Sukuna x fem!reader
CW: character death, murder / homicide, gore (blood, injuries), body horror, psychological manipulation / gaslighting, toxic relationship / unhealthy relationship dynamics, captivity / imprisonment, Implied cannibalism, mutual obsession
For my event INTERLACED
Ten years.
A whole decade.
Wasted.
You wear your wedding gift from him, always neatly tied or braided into your hair.
Ivory white and clean as a whistle. You kept it spotless.
A lace bow, with the most delicate trim and floral motifs.
Every day.
You loved Sukuna so much it hurt your heart at times, unable to properly show how much poured from your fingertips after touching his skin. Just a hug or a small kiss would have you flooded with love. All for him.
He was the same, you never knew any hardships when he was around, there to be a strong arm, a word that made you laugh, brightening your day. Never upset you, sure, he might be a bit rough around the edges, but you weren't perfect, either.
The purest kind of love and adoration, care.
Mutual obsession.
So when did it start going wrong?
Truthfully, you hadn't even noticed it. Nothing was amiss. Your mind about him is as spotless as your bow, your husband could do no wrong.
Nothing was wrong in your marriage, nothing had changed in your relationship.
But your surroundings were shifting.
Missing knives, but they were replaced with new, better ones a day or two after you began asking where they had gone. A safe tucked away in the closet, no clue what was inside.
"For our safety, sweetheart, you know how wild animals are."
Having to do more loads of laundry than usual. But Sukuna himself would do it, not letting you glance at his dirty clothes thrown into a pile in the middle of the hamper, reassuring you to leave it to him.
"Go rest, my flower. I'll handle it."
No questions about this odd tint of red around his fingernails that never went away.
Why was the shed locked shut?
The shed.
Just a regular tool shed, your husband kept his power tools and lawnmower there, nothing unusual for the house.
So why was it bolted shut day after day unless Sukuna strolled inside of it?
"Just working on some things in there, don't worry your pretty little head about it, alright, my doll?"
"You should be worrying more about watering the flowers instead of some junk in a rotting shed, my love."
Sweet words, easing your curious heart. He was a good man.
But you couldn't help yourself, could you?
Off at work, at least that's what your husband told you he was up to, not around to fill your ears with light whispers and reassurance of your growing paranoia.
It was starting to get cloudy outside, a storm rolling in from past the canopy of nearby trees. Your first sign not to step outside.
The second one was the lock on the wooden door.
You had the key, right?
Of course you did.
While searching for your slippers in the morning, you had peeked under the bed.
Taped on the underside of your husband's side was… something.
Now it was in your hands, your anxious, shaky hands.
Don't be nervous now, all you have to do is turn the lock.
Click.
You didn't reach for the handle yet, taking a shaky breath and shutting your eyes.
Sukuna wouldn't be mad, right?
No, no, he wouldn't.
The only way he spoke to you was through patience and gentle guidance. He'd just chuckle and show you what's inside himself, yes.
Manipulation and lies, sugarcoated to sound as tender as your flesh.
You didn't know, using that same feeling of safety to calm your nerves, peering at the door once again, your hand on the handle already, key in the lock.
Nothing to be uneasy about, it's just a shed with gardening tools and maybe some car parts. Stop feeling like you might get your neck snapped just by having a little look.
The door creaked open, louder than you would have liked. The treeline went silent after the uncomfortable noise. A third warning.
What you saw wasn't all that odd… the lawnmower in the corner, a grass trimmer, and a few shovels in a dark corner.
You stepped inside, leaving the door ajar.
The lamp in the middle of the shabby thing flicked awake after tugging on the string dangling down.
There was this faint smell of dread hiding behind the organization.
Your eyes flicked around, landing on the workbench at the far side. Your feet carrying you there before your brain.
A small jar of pulled teeth fell into your gaze.
Teeth?
The more you looked around, the items didn't seem so innocent anymore.
Thick rope and a few rusty saws tucked under the table.
Not rust.
Maybe the worst thing was a splotch of thick blood on the edge of a bucket filled with that same stench of impending doom.
It wasn't blood… just paint.
Your fingers reached out, you had to prove to yourself that it was nothing.
But the deep crimson stained your hand, the smell of iron hit your nose, and you couldn't keep the fantasy stable anymore.
Thunderclouds had hidden the sky completely outside, making the space darker than before.
The loud thuds of heavy raindrops hitting the tin roof of the shed rang through your ears, overwhelming your senses, hands trembling while looking at the glossy blood seeping into your nail beds.
You should not have left the door open.
"My flower, what are you doing in here?"
Sukuna had returned.
You snapped out of your trance, blinking and looking in his direction, hand reaching up to your head in search of the comfort of your lace bow, fiddling with it while watching your husband approach.
Rough hands cradled your face, gently checking if you had hurt yourself. Red irises did a horrible job of hiding his displeasure with you.
"You didn't harm yourself, did you? Oh my sweet girl… come here."
A hug, face smushed into the comfort of his chest. A steady heartbeat against your ear.
So he wasn't mad… good.
Your trembling hands clung to his back.
You couldn't see the way Sukuna's jaw clenched, nails itching to claw into your sides and squeeze you tight enough to have you pop.
"You shouldn't be in here. How about we go back inside and have dinner, hm?"
No questions about the key or your findings.
False safety.
Sukuna had taken you back in the house, sat you down, and helped heat up some food. It was silent while you ate, your fork barely able to cut through a soft vegetable, as the thought of the odd findings popped back into your mind.
"Sweetheart, why is your bow filthy? Messy girl."
Your fingers had stained a corner of it with the Incarnadine shade.
Scrubbing. Scratching, desperately washing both your hands and the lace, couldn't get rid of it.
You cried in his arms that night, gathered up in his chest, head lying against his.
Sukuna caressed your back, caressed your hair, and shushed you to sleep.
It was just a bow.
The truth was cracking from the seams everywhere you looked now. The house was lacking color, the dullness and real darkness creeping in from unlit corners. The ingredients in the pantry and the shelves in the fridge seemed to be rotten, tasteless.
Sukuna's face looked different, touching it made your skin tingle- as if it refused to connect with his.
Maybe it was because the romanticized image of him was losing its shape.
And maybe the fact that he refused to let you go outside.
No more garden work, too harsh for your puzzled mind.
The sun was too hot, even on a cloudy day.
You needed to relax, even after sleeping all day.
It was getting unbearable.
The front door was locked, the back door too. Sukuna was working in the study.
Trapped in your own safe haven, you needed to do something, so why not go down to the basement?
Your husband never said anything about the cold concrete box below the floorboards, knowing you were too scared to go there.
With nothing better to do, his logic was being proved false with every step you took down the squeaky stairs.
You found the light switch, getting a yellow, old hue illuminating the space.
Oh yeah, the freezers were down here.
Two, to be exact. Sukuna liked smoking meat and fish on sunny days, so you knew he used them to keep them frozen.
A little peek wouldn't do you any harm.
So what if your last gander took away your freedom to leave these walls? This was different.
As if.
The sound of the creaking steps had alerted him, no matter how slow you had gone.
Your tainted hands lifted the large hinged lid of the chest.
Just some plastic bags of red meat, parts of a pig, and venison. A large salmon head stared up at you from the side.
The eyes of the dead fish were gouged out.
The lid went back down, now wanting to see if the same contents were in the second one.
You should have stopped with the first one.
At first the same plastic bags stared up at you, what looked like minced meat and animal body parts.
Not that human hand though.
Sawed off from the bicep, a fleshy limb wrapped in the same plastic bag, but oozing crimson from the palm made eye contact with you.
The color drained from your face, doubling over and pulling the dismembered part out, your own arms shaking while looking at the frozen appendage.
Bile churned around in your stomach, a sour, watery taste taking over your mouth.
The stairs were still squeaky, making sound as heavy footsteps rushed down.
"Flower, what are you up to now?"
Once Sukuna's head went low enough from the upper floor, seeing the sight of you holding something you never were supposed to see.
Your hands dropped the bag immediately, clattering to the basement floor, a part of the bag opening, the smell of decayed flesh hit your nose once again.
"My angel, are you trying to get yourself in trouble again. It hurts me to keep you locked away, but if you keep fooling around, i might just keep you in one room and tend to you."
His voice was gruff, trying to sound smooth and caring, but it was clearly impossible to do so.
He tried to reach out to you, blunt nails touching your hair, easing you to step into his embrace. Just like any other time to have you calm down and trap you in his arms till he felt you'd deserve freedom.
His palm crushed your skull into his chest, Sukuna acting like he wanted to infuse you inside of his ribcage.
"Silly thing, must you keep poking your nose in my things?" He cooed into your hair, but you swore you could feel his canines trying to bite into the top of your head.
"We will go upstairs, watch a movie, and forget all about this-"
"No!"
You never spoke against him, so the sudden outburst had Sukuna's grip faltering, you shoved yourself off of him, looking more panicked than ever, not letting him worm his way into your logical thinking.
"Come back, you little…!"
You stumbled back, tripping over the same arm, trying to grab onto the freezer but it did nothing, crashing backwards with a thud.
Thankfully it only gave you a faint dizziness, scrambling up right after.
A tattooed arm wrapped around you, holding you tighter than before. He wouldn't let go now.
"You hit your head, my dear. It's bleeding. Maybe you shook your little brain back into place. I told you, we are forgetting about this and watching a fucking movie."
He dragged you back up the stair by your middle, not caring about you tripping over your own feet, not caring that you were looking at the melting limb on the ground and the image of pooling blood and peeling skin underneath a plastic sheen was the last thing engraved in your mind before the lights got switched off.
He sat you down, giving you a stern glare before disappearing into the bathroom to grab a first aid kit for your bleeding scalp.
The gash was above your bow, it still neatly wrapped into your hair, the thick red seeped into the middle of the ivory lace. Stained worse than before, just a few spots keeping the previous ivory color safe.
His fingers were gentle, parting your hair and cleaning the wound with stinging spirit. Your eyes blankly watched the subtitles flow as some old western movie played on the television.
You didn't dare look up, not wanting to see the cold glaze in his irises, knowing Sukuna wanted nothing but to take away your air and put you to sleep.
You weren't the one slumbering.
The only way you could end this nightmare was to snuff out the source.
It was past midnight, a large, full moon shining trough the tightly shut windows. Your bow hanging on by a few messy locks of hair, a bandaged wrapped around your skull with a red splotch on the back.
A knife, your favourite one to cut up fruit. The one with a pretty handle, engraved with both you and your sleeping husbands initials.
You stood over him, eyes almost bleary while watching Sukuna's peaceful expression. Like the day he asked for your hand, for the day he said he wanted to be yours. The day you bought a house together in the middle of nowhere.
If only you were strong enough, your breathing had turned shaky and bordering on gasping as your hand shook, unable to even process what you were about to do.
The last thing to give away your actions was a droplet, a salty and large teardrop rolling down your cheek and right on to Sukuna's lips.
His eyes shot open as if his senses were on high alert, an arm already reaching out to grab at you.
You didn't know what else to do besides listen to your mind- stumbling back and running as fast as you could.
Almost falling out of the bedroom after shoving the door open.
Sukuna didn't yell for you to get back. He was already chasing after you.
You couldn't hear a single thing, heart too loud in your ears- wanting to leap out of your mouth.
Glass shattered, sharp pain in your palms and legs while climbing trough the kitchen window.
Damp grass padding against your bare soles as you ran for the treeline, unable to breathe.
You don't know how far you ran.
Didn't know how long.
He caught up, he always did.
Why would such a silly girl like you think he had just let you go?
"My petal, where have you gone now? I can hear you."
It felt like he was right behind the tree you had hid, blunt nails digging into the handle of the knife you thankfully hadn't dropped.
You shut your eyes, holding your breath. But that was no use.
"My angel, come out."
Heavy footsteps approached, with no care stepping right past the thick bark of the tree.
A stab to the chest, your hands weak from fear but driven enough to push the blade right to his beating heart, ripping trough muscle.
Too shocked by your own action, the pain from the same type of sharpness slicing trough the side of your throat.
Maybe it was a bit romantic, the last time spent together, in each others arms, spluttering and struggling to breathe, buried in moss with a pale moon not even giving you the ability to see one another bleed out.
Sukuna had never kissed the top of your head as tenderly as right before his last breath.
"I love you."
Not like you could reply, blood filling your lungs and vocal chords sliced.
Already fading out together with the last beat of his heart.
The bow, the lacy thing no longer white, barely even recognizable by how much blood had been spilt.
Yoon's notes: hi guys sorry for the lame ass horror fic
you and choso have been friends since the start of your second year at college, with him being an art major and you being one of his only friends it's no surprise that over time you began to take up half his sketchbook.
he's always insisting you have a face made to be put on a canvas. you don't quite see it nor have a good understanding of what exactly that means, but it makes you feel good.
sitting on the art studio's uncomfortable chairs isn't so bad when he finally reveals the finished product. the way he draws you—it's like he's drawing your soul too. you've never felt prettier than when you see yourself through his eyes.
"well, can i see?" you ask, noticing he finally put down his sketchbook.
"it's not finished yet, i have to go over some of the shading—but you can take a look while i clean up a little." he picks it up between two fingers and stretches so you can reach it without any difficulty.
before standing he speaks again, "i know you've got a busy couple days coming up so i'll do my best to paint it without you here." in truth he would do just fine without you here. he has the sketch, has the colors he'll use planned out in his head—hell, he could draw you from memory at this point. but you don't know that.
you furrow your brows, "you sure?"
"positive."
"kay, just let me admire it for a sec and i'll go."
the second your eyes hit the page you start smiling, its beautiful. it always is. you don't have words for him, you haven't for a long time. there's nothing you can say that he hasn't already heard.
while choso's busy cleaning you decide to look through the rest of his sketchbook, flicking to the very first page. at the top right-hand corner of the page he has the date marked in red pen—which is nothing out of the ordinary for him, but you take note that it begins just a few weeks into his first year.
you turn the pages and smile, noticing how his current art-style seeps into his older drawings, but the next page is something you didn’t expect, something that makes your heart drop.
it sinks lower and lower every time you carefully slide the pages between your fingers. its you—they’re all you. they date back to a time you hadn’t even heard of his existence.
you sitting on a bench, you with your friends who’s faces haven’t been drawn, you reading a book, you listening to music, you—
