▷ Don’t Hide
Synopsis . The last thing you told your ex-best friend before he was dragged off to jail for arson was one well-deserved, 'fuck you.' Five years later, he broke out of prison, and now he's coming to make good on those words. (nonnie req) Pairing . fugitive!Sukuna x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, rough sex, possessiveness, a hint of yandere!sukuna, implied stalker!sukuna, manhandling, heavy tension, confessions, creampies, mirror sex, manipulation, jealousy, full nelson, filth, sukuna’s quite literally insane, heavy yearning, violence, major pain kink, toxicity, dirty talk, slight angst, blood, pet names, praise, degrading, he has a dick tattoo, spitting, squirting, orgasm denial/edging, biting, breeding kink, obsession, reader in denial, death threats, attempted murder (?), making up for lost time, etc. / wc . 9.7k
A/N: This might be one of the craziest things I've ever written... Banner art by Rororogi Mogera. (Kinktober Masterlist.)—Ignore how we’re well into November now. Not proofread, sorry if there's any errors! [MDNI]
Your best friend tried to kill you.
Multiple times, in fact. That was the harsh reality of having a man like Sukuna as your closest friend; he was absolutely insane.
Piss him off even the slightest bit and he was sending you all sorts of violent threats, no matter who you were. So, for some reason, when it came on to you—the only friend bold enough to put up with him for the past ten years—he always made sure to follow through on those threats of his.
And as of recently, the man had set your house on fire as you were inside. For what? Oh nothing, just overhearing you have the audacity to refer to another man that wasn’t him as your best friend.
Totally not an overreaction.
——
You remember being laid across your bed, phone in hand as you yapped away to a new friend of yours. Now, you and this friend got along because he was the complete opposite of Sukuna. He didn’t threaten you over petty things, didn’t curse you out and call you mean nicknames, and most importantly, he wasn’t batshit crazy.
While you were busy half-listening to your friend’s voice on the line, you began to smell the faint scent of something acrid. The smell made your face scrunch up, nose crinkling as your brows furrowed and you glanced around your room. You thought that maybe you could’ve left the stove or oven on somehow, even though you don’t remember turning either of those things on..
The scent reminded you of burnt toast if it was intensified to the third degree so, clearly something was burning.
“Are you even listening to me…?” The man on your phone grumps. You could practically picture the pout on his lips, “Hellooo?”
Shaking out of what’s got your expression shifting, “Yeah-, yes, I’m here,” You replied hurriedly, “Sorry, Satoru, gimme a second.” You end up telling him as that smell from the first floor of your home began to grow stronger.
The whole thing was making you very uneasy and it didn’t take much for you to feel the panic seeping up into your veins as you slipped out of your bed and went rushing towards your door. As soon as you opened it, you were smacked in the face with clouds of thick, black smoke that made you cough, bringing one hand up to cover your nose as you ducked and walked out into the wall of heat coating your home’s air.
“You alright over there?” Gojo had asked you, having heard your coughs and even catching a faint crackling as the phone picked it up into the call.
Between another cough, “Yeah, m’fine,” You say jokingly, “My house is just on fire.”
“What??” He gasps, taking in the full severity of the situation, “Shouldn’t you be calling the cops or something?”
You’re leisurely making your way down the hall with your nose still covered and your body slightly hunched over so you don’t inhale too much smoke. This isn’t the first time a certain someone has set something of yours on fire so you suppose that’s why you’re more annoyed than you are scared as you make your way to the edge of your staircase.
Standing there, you lean into the phone a little more. “Yeah, I’m getting to it…” You tell Gojo, easing your way down the steps to peak around the corner and see that the fire is much bigger than what you were expecting.
Again, this isn’t the first time that “best friend” of yours went setting shit on fire in your house. But, this is the first time he set your actual house aflame. Your eyes widen and all that casualty you previously had died inside you as big, wild flames pop and crackle with heat from your living room.
“Oh shit,” You gasped, “S-Satoru, I’ll call you back.”
“Are you oka—“ Before he could even finish, you were hanging up and moving with shaky fingers to dial the police.
And somewhere under all those flames, you swore you heard laughing. Sick, maniacal, and twisted laughter—a sound of which you’d come to recognize anywhere.
Everything that happens after that is one big ugly blur of events. Such an innocent night had turned into something foul all because you’d called Gojo one of your best friends earlier in the day. You don’t even know how the fuck Sukuna got wind of that comment but low and behold, he was the one who set your living room on fire.
The cops were called shortly after you’d discovered the flames and you remember having to be transported out safely in the arms of one hulky blonde fireman, who Sukuna then tried to attack before he was swiftly arrested and pinned to the ground by policemen.
Outside of your home, the two of you had argued back and forth from a distance while they worked cuffs over his wrists. You don’t remember the details of what you’d shouted at him as most of what you spewed was in anger but you do still picture the crazed smile the man had on his face every time you said something especially vicious to him. That was exactly why he liked you so much–, or rather, liked being your friend so much.
Sukuna always adored how you never let him walk all over you, even after he’d literally burnt a part of your house down.
Somewhere between him getting arrested and that sweet blonde fireman—who’s name you noted as Nanami—Sukuna happened to see a gently clothed hand cleanse your face from the few ashes that’d covered your features. The only thing you heard was a snap as he’d broken out of the cuffs and launched himself forward.
It was an even bigger mess from then on.
You barely remember seeing that poor fireman get punched in the face, to which you jumped up, went swinging at Sukuna and… yeah, it was bad. Really bad.
It took multiple police officers and firefighters to pry the two of you off of one another. Well, more like to pry you off of him. You’d landed multiple blows to his face and quickly caused his nose to bleed but, the thing about that entire altercation that had you livid was the fact that he was smiling throughout each second of it.
This was another thing that wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to do. You’d done almost everything under the sun towards one another within the past ten years that you were acquainted—which yes, includes fighting one another. Though, the fighting in question mostly consisted of you hitting him and Sukuna just taking it.
He may have been crazy in every other field imaginable but he'd, surprisingly, never hit a woman. Especially not you.
While you'd been beating up on the man and just before the officers had pulled you two apart, you do remember one more little detail that still manages to cling to your mind to this day.
It was just as an officer had shouted something along the lines of, "Stop right there!" that you recall the glint in Sukuna's eyes dimming and the way his smug smirk flickered. It seemed like reality had finally settled back into his head for a moment and even though you still had a partially bloodied fist hoisted up, ready to land on his face again, you swear that second stretched out longer than it should've before his voice came out ever so softly.
"Fun's over, huh?" Sukuna had whispered to you, as if he somehow knew and fully expected this to be his last moment seeing you. He understood that he was going to jail for all this but that wasn't exactly his biggest concern.
His main thing here was that he had to accept the fact that you probably hate him now—
"Fuck you." You spat, finally, before he could even finish his thought.
If the pill wasn't a tough one to swallow previously, it damn sure was then.
You were pulled off of him seconds later and he was dragged away—this time towards the back of a police car—and although there was something distant and somber about the way his eyes still lingered on you and that same fireman who came to help you, he kept those two words of yours in the forefront of his mind.
After all, it was the last thing you'd said to him.
“Are you okay?” Nanami ended up asking you as he stepped impossibly closer and was quick to tend to you as if his condition wasn't worse off. Concern was etched all into his features but, even though you heard him, your eyes were busy fixed onto Sukuna.
You managed a nod and felt the man's hands reach for yours to clean the blood off of them. You should've been able to take your eyes off of the same guy who literally just set your house on fire and then proceeded to attack someone just for helping you.
And yet, there you were, letting Nanami's smooth suggestion of, "Let’s get you checked out,” flow through one ear and out the other.
Even as he gently pulled you away from the scene, your mind was one big mess of confliction. You're supposed to hate Sukuna now, obviously. He was insane!
But... he's always been that way and somehow, you've always forgiven him for it. Maybe it was because there was more good with him than there was bad. Or perhaps it was because he was the only man you knew could match your crazy.
Part of you wanted to go and fight for Sukuna's freedom after the whole ordeal, y'know, that really delusional and stupid part of you. And the other half of you knew that the sensible thing to do here was to leave him where he was. Maybe a couple years in jail would do him some good.
Right?
——
That was five years ago from now, where your home has since been repaired and free of the violent crimes of which your ex-best friend committed against you.
Luckily, you listened to the logical half of your brain and went against fighting for his freedom or contacting him at all, no matter how many times you found yourself missing him.
These days you try to convince yourself that you don't even think about him as much but, every time you bring a new guy into your life it just feels weird or, something feels like as though it were crawling up your spine. Especially if you tried to talk to someone romantically.
You'd always experience this odd lump of guilt eating away at you and it made you feel strange considering the fact that you should feel free of Sukuna's control over you and who you date. You'd been in relationships before he was locked up, after all.
Even though most of them ended in the weirdest ways...
You remember how one guy told you how he didn't want to die just for dating you. At the time you laughed it off, thinking he was being dramatic, but looking back on it now... perhaps Sukuna had something to do with it?
There was also the time a guy completely ghosted you just a few days after you'd both admitted you were in love with one another. You don't know what that was all about but, again, looking back on it now...
To take your mind off of the man you're not supposed to be thinking about, you end up fishing for your remote after plopping down on your living room couch. The TV soon flicks on and you shove all thoughts of your ex-best friend into the very back of your mind where he belongs.
He's exactly where he's supposed to be now anyway; rotting in a cell somewhere.
On a brighter note, for the past five years straight you've been living your best life. For the most part, anyway.
You and that nice blond fireman got closer through the years and he often comes over to your house to give you some company after you'd explained how Sukuna was your closest friend years ago. You know Nanami visits you out of pity but, you never exactly reject him.
The only unfortunate thing about that situation is the fact that every time he flirts with you, you can't find it in yourself to reciprocate. There's nothing wrong with him and he'd be a good fit for you, truly. The issue here is that you can't ignore how wrong you feel when you're with him.
He could be doing nothing more than sitting on your couch watching TV with you and yet you felt as though you had Sukuna's eyes burning into the very back of your skull—watching, judging, daring. There was even a time you and Nanami tried kissing. He wasn't bad at it and neither were you, something was just wrong about it and you didn't know what it was.
Perhaps Sukuna had unconsciously conditioned you into some sort of deep rejection towards anyone that wasn't him and you hadn't realized it.
Things only became clear for you when the same thing happened with Gojo. Who you tried going on dates with, tried to let spoil you, and even tried sleeping with. All of which failed miserably, especially that last little act. You'd felt off the entire time, so much so that you don't even think you were turned on.
Which was crazy to think about considering he's Gojo Satoru! It's not like you weren't into him.
He'd treated and touched you better than any guy ever had before—as did Nanami—but maybe that was the problem. Maybe you didn't want something that was smooth and gentle with you. Maybe you needed the craziness you only knew to come with the asshole sitting in prison right now.
Or at least... the asshole that was sitting in prison.
The moment your TV finally turns on, there's a news report playing that instantly snatches up your attention and makes every vein in your body run cold. The report ahead explains how a man who'd been convicted for arson had recently escaped prison and has been on the run for at least three days now.
You swallow thickly and your eyes quickly flock around to various corners of your house. Three days? Logically speaking—and not like you looked this up before or anything but—that's about the same amount of time it would take for him to get to your house on foot...
You turn back to your TV and sink further into your couch, turning the volume up to listen intently to the rest of the report before you drive yourself insane. The fugitive could be anyone after all. Arson is a pretty common crime to commit, isn't it?
"—The man is said to be at least six feet tall with pink hair, dark red eyes, and tattoos all over his face," The woman on your screen adds on suddenly before a mugshot pops up just a few inches away from her.
Aaaand fuck, it's him.
You immediately shoot up from your seat and start rushing around your house to make sure all the doors are locked and that every window is shut tightly. Hell, you even consider bordering up all exits and entryways.
The sound of your heart racing in your chest thumps all the way up against your eardrums as you fight with the increasing sensation of paranoia rising within you. You move all throughout your home, slamming doors shut and double-checking each lock with slightly trembling hands.
You hate how all it took was one little report to have you all anxious and thinking about him again. It's been five years. Maybe you saw the report wrong, maybe it was about that younger, identical nephew of his...
No, no, that doesn't even make sense. He was just a kid the last time you saw him and from what you remember, he wants to be nothing like his crazy ass uncle.
Fuck.
Over six feet tall, pink hair, dark red eyes, tattoos all over his face... Only one person fits that description and you know it.
Fuck.
You saw his face too, you can't just ignore that and try to convince yourself it isn't him.
The news is still playing off in the background, echoing throughout the walls of your house almost hauntingly now as you struggle to ignore the punctuating reality of Sukuna no longer being behind bars.
"He's not coming here," You mutter to yourself, despite the suddenly pounding memories of him flooding right back into the forefront of your mind.
Fuck.
It's been five years, there's no way he's going to escape from prison just to come torment you again. Or worse, to come get revenge from you not coming to see him all this time...
Then again, if you still can't help but think about him in moments where you really shouldn't be, he's probably been doing the same thing. Hell, you're probably the only thing on his mind right now.
Something in your chest throbs at the mere idea. You don't know why that invoked such a physical reaction from you, it's not like you've ever liked the guy or anything like that.
Aside from the first few years of your friendship when you had the biggest crush on him.
But that was fifteen years ago, feelings like that don't linger this long. Feelings like that shouldn't linger for this long, not after he's burned down a quarter of your house and has been sent off to jail for it.
For a moment you consider dialing the police but, what exactly would they do aside from send an officer or two out to your house for the night? Your phone is in your hands now and all you're doing is staring at the screen with a million thoughts in your head.
You can't call the police, that'd just end in another big brawl between you and Sukuna before he's arrested again and, unfortunately, the last thing you feel like doing is fighting anymore. You don't think you have the energy for that, especially not this late into the night. So, you end up pocketing your phone and instead head back to your living room.
Up until you hear a sudden thud from somewhere behind your house.
Your heart sinks into your ass and you freeze. Straining your ears to catch more sounds, you slowly turn on your heels and creep back towards your kitchen. The floorboards beneath your steps creak softly but you swear you hear a distance set of steps creeping around as well.
Yet, when you stop, the sound stops as well.
So perhaps you were just driving yourself insane?
Yeah, that's probably it. It's been five whole years, Sukuna would not spend all that time thinking about you and then turn around and come back to the same woman who got him thrown into jail. He's crazy but he's not that crazy.
Taking one more stretchy moment to let the silence linger on, you release a long sigh and pace into your kitchen. Just in case, you still want to have a weapon on you in the event that your delusions turn out to be true.
Right before you reach the knives, the sound of your house phone ringing like something out of a cliche slasher movie cuts through the air and easily scares the shit out of you.
Flinching, you hurry over to it and scramble about to get the phone into your hands properly, quickly lifting it up to your ear. "Hello?" You call out with a slightly shaky voice.
At first there's no sound, just static. Which, of course makes you want to hang up.
You've never been a fan of scary shit and the only person who knows that about you is Sukuna. So if the creepy silence was telling you anything, it's that it was definitely him—
"Hey, have you seen the news?" Gojo's voice rings out to you after one too many deafening seconds of eerie silence.
With a heavy sigh of relief, you almost smile into the phone. Thank God it's just him. "Yeah," You reply half-breathily, "Of course I saw it."
There's a slight sound of shuffling over the phone and you think you hear keys for a moment, "Do you want me to come over? Y'know, just in case that maniac shows up?"
You're shaking your head before speaking, "No, no, you don't have to do all that, Satoru. I'm fine-, it's fine."
"You don't sound fine..." He points out.
You roll your eyes for a moment, hating how well he's gotten to know you over the past few years. Leaning against your kitchen counter a little, you glance over at the knives just a few inches away from you, "How do I sound then?"
Gojo scoffs harmlessly, "Shaken up."
You're quiet for a moment and within it, it's almost like your breathing is echoing around you. Ignoring the intensified sound, you shake your head and shut your eyes for a second to ground yourself, "I'm fine, really."
The man over the phone lets out a long hum and you could almost hear the skeptical look on his face, "I'd be over in fifteen minutes top, y'know... I just-"
"Satoru," You cut off gently, "Seriously, I'm okay. I... I know how to handle myself and I doubt he's even coming here. It's been three whole days after all. He's probably on the other side of the country by now."
"Right..." Gojo trails off for a moment before shrugging, even though you can't see it. "Well, if you're sure. Just uh," He clicks his tongue slightly and leans into the phone, voice getting a little louder against your ear, "Call me if you need anything."
"I will, I will." You promise, "Goodnight, Satoru. A-And don't call my house phone anymore, you scared the shit out of me."
He chuckles, "Sorry, you weren't picking up your cell so I got a little worried. But, yeah, goodnight, sweetheart."
You place the house phone back into its original place and the call ends there. Your hand lingers on top of the phone for a bit before you slowly slide your touch away and let your shoulders relax.
All the tension that'd been there just a moment ago has died down a little and you feel calmer now.
See? Everything is perfectly fine.
But, it wouldn't hurt to grab one of those knives just in case...
Fishing through the knife holder, you eventually pluck one up and bring it closer to you for inspection. You let the blade's end tap against your finger softly to make sure it's sharp, not exactly cutting yourself but just checking it out. Then, you breathe out another sigh as if to steady yourself again.
You had a weapon and you could call up Gojo if anything else went sideways so, everything was okay.
Just as you turn around, that last little thought of yours is practically fucked out of your head violently. There's a tall, brooding frame of a man standing a few feet away from you inside of your kitchen, the sight of him enough to make your entire body flinch with a physical force strong enough for you to drop the knife you just picked up.
You shoot down for the weapon you dropped and scramble it back up into your hands before rising up to your feet again, seeing that the man who'd just scared you hasn't moved an inch.
As your breath remains uneven and weighted with fear, the male inside your house is standing there with that signature smile of wickedness plastered all over his face. Cocking a thick pink brow, which you notice has two slits in one them, "'Sweetheart', huh?" He drawls, voice all dense with a baritone that fills every inch of the space between you both.
Your eyes are wide and frantic, running over every bit of your ex-best friend standing before you, trying to figure out whether or not this is real or just some fucked up nightmare. His hair, that same bright pink you know it to be, is all unkempt and wild atop his head as his eyes, low-lidded and dark, steadied onto yours.
"What the hell are you doing here?" You hiss out slowly, sounding unsure in your own tone given the abundant sense of unease inside you.
You watch his lower, rose-toned lip get pulled in between his teeth at the mere sound of your voice before his head angles to the side in slow motion. Then he lets his crimson eyes drag up and down the expanse of your frightened frame and swallows up every inch of you with his gaze alone. It's only been a few seconds and you felt as though you were shrinking under him already, despite the distance between you.
Sukuna's voice carries out with the same rasp that never fails to drive you insane, "Awh, come now," He coos with a pout of mocking smearing across his face for a moment, "Is this any way to greet your best friend? Pointing a knife at me as if it hasn't been years since we've last seen one another."
Your eye twitches in annoyance, "You set my fucking house on fire!"
He visibly reacts to the elevation in your tone with a rise of his brows and a slight adjustment backwards as if you'd pushed at him. "Surely you're not still mad about that," He purrs lowly before taking a small step forwards and ignoring the blade you have aimed his way.
You shift backwards but you merely meet the counter and realize you'd have to run left or right if you wanted to escape him. That, and most of the exits are somewhere behind him.
"You need to leave," You breathe hotly, "Get out before I call the cops again or I swear to—"
"Call the cops again?" Sukuna scoffs loudly and his next step closer makes the floor groan distantly under his bulky frame, "You think they can keep me locked up forever? I escaped once, I can do it again." Now he's only a few more steps away from you and you've yet to pry yourself away from your spot.
You hate how you can hardly move under his gaze, as if you'd been put under some type of spell or something, your body condemned to stay in place.
"And do you know where I'll come once I do?" He adds on slowly, sneaking nearer until he's only one step away from your personal space. "Right," The distance lessens as he takes that final step, "Back," Sukuna extends an arm out and you feel it brush against your side as he places his hand on the counter behind you, his lips grazing your ear now, "To you." he finishes off in a chilling whisper.
You fall impossibly quieter and he pulls away from your ear just to meet eyes with you, leaving you there to stare up at him with years of and years of emotions floating around your gaze. You wanted to say something, anything, but the only thing you could manage was a subtle twitch of your lips. To which he took as an opportunity to fill the silence.
Tone almost vulnerable if you listened hard enough, "I just wanted to see you," Sukuna admits, almost like he'd missed you or something.
Your grip on that rather useless knife of yours tightens, as does the feeling in your chest. You're standing face to face with him now, halfway trapped between his large body and the counter behind you.
And as if to unintentionally ruin the moment, his eyes sink further along your frame, drinking in your lack of a response to him and instead letting his expression color itself in amusement as he leans down to you and whispers, “You look good.”
The heated, “Fuck you.” that pours past your lips is instantaneous. You didn't even have to think about the words before uttering them, nor do you regret saying them to him in such a distasteful tone.
Sukuna hums somewhere deeply in his throat and draws himself back just a bit, “That’s what I’m here for, brat.”
You blink, “What?”
“Don’t you remember?" He continues, eyes studying every curve and twitch in your face as if he'd forgotten how expressive you could be. "All those years ago, that’s what you asked me to do, isn’t it?”
Your lashes are batting with perplexity now, “I didn’t ask you to do shit-”
“Well, that is the last thing you said to me.” He cuts off quickly. Then his hand moves off of the counter behind you and you instinctively draw your knife up, the tip of the blade tickling his chin and causing his head to tip back some. There's a faint hitch in his breath as he's caught off guard ever so faintly.
Testingly, your eyes remain vexing and pointing upwards on his, “So?”
His hand carefully reaches your wrist and his fingers curl around it, his touch a sense of gentleness you've never felt from him before. Sukuna was touching you as if you were made of some kind of porcelain—liable to break at any given moment. Which, naturally, had you even more pissed off. It lets you know that five years away from you did nothing but make him think he'd left you all fragile and on the edge of breaking or something.
“Are you really gonna sit there and act like you didn’t miss me all this time?" The fugitive questions further, voice an annoying cadence of softness. It was so out of character for him that it made you feel even more uneasy standing in front of him.
Something wasn't right here.
“I didn’t," You claim as if you hadn't spent over half of those five years doing exactly that.
“Mh," Sukuna hums again and this time his lips twitch back up into that usually smug smile, voice dropping, "Yeah? Is that what helps you sleep at night?”
To combat with his never ending smugness, you try to appear as nonchalant about it as you can and drag out your little white lie some more, “Yup.”
“Tch.” He's quickly irritated by that one word threading past your lips with such indifference, “So I set your house on fire one time and now all of a sudden ten years of friendship don’t mean shit to you?” He asks.
The statement itself was almost more concerning than the fact that he'd done that to you. You'd think five years in confinement would help a person think over their actions and actually consider the wrong in their crimes but apparently Sukuna Ryomen wasn't prone to such a thing.
“You tried to kill me, asshole.” You remind him for the nth time.
He talks half a step away from you and chuckles, “I’d never do something like that and you know it. If that fire had hurt you that day, I’d never forgive myself for it.” Sukuna claims in a weirdly endearing way.
You hate how that makes your chest do that weird clenching thing again, as if his words still had an honest affect on you after all this time. Somewhere distantly in your mind, you were screaming at yourself about how you should've called the police on him again when you had the chance, while you were still somewhat in your right mind. But now it was too late, you were already wrapped around his finger tightly with no desire to unravel yourself from him.
Before you can manage out another jab, he ends up bringing one of those large hands of his up to his sharpened jawline and then runs his palm over it carefully, gaze drooling out an emotion you don't care to acknowledge right now, “And I meant what I said,” He whirs, “You look good.”
Finally rolling your eyes elsewhere, “You shouldn’t be here.” You deflect.
Sukuna obviously doesn't move, “You’re not telling me to leave.”
“You need to.”
“Do you want me to?” He retorts, taking the following long second of silence as a decent enough response from you, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
After which you allow yourself a moment to finally take the sight of him in. He's not as close as he was before which is somewhat helpful to your buzzing nerves but... fuck, he got even hotter within the time he's been gone.
Sukuna's always been tall but you swear he's grown a few more inches. All his features are sharper and more defined as if he hadn't let a day go by without properly taking care of himself, despite being locked away for so long. His body is staggering more so now than ever before as he stands in front of you clad in nothing more than a crisp white T-shirt and the rest of his prison jumper sitting low on his hips.
Now, this shouldn't be as distracting as it is but, as soon as you look down you can't help the way your eyes widen at the sight of the slightest sliver of smooth skin peeking out from the space between his lower abdomen and his pelvis. That bright orange fabric was way too low on his hips and you're sure he was aware of it too.
The toned V-line of his was adorned with trails of teasing veins that led to something you swore yourself up and down you didn't want to think about at all. But of course, it's hard not to think about it when you see that heavy tent in his crotch. You always knew Sukuna was... packing but, most times when you'd acknowledged it, you tried to shove the thought away just as quickly as it came.
It's a little hard to do that now when he's standing right in front of you watching you watch him. You don't even realize the way your eyes all but linger there as your lips part and a soft breath ghosts past them.
Then you're speaking your mind without thinking first, “You got… bigger.”
Your eyes are still glued to that outline of something bulky in his pants just before you hear him scoff at your shamelessness and force yourself to look up again. Sukuna's eyes look hungrier now. Shit, that wasn't your intention at all. You're should be kicking him out of your house right now-
“That’s what five years in a cell does to someone, woman," The man drawls, voice a pitch lower already.
One little moment of taking in his appearance and he was already feeling the effect you had on him. Moving your gaze away from his starved one, you resort to studying his now folded arms and how hefty they are tucked over his even broader chest. The tattoos across his skin still seemed as fresh as ever, almost as if not a day had ever gone by.
Clearing your throat and ignoring how hot you start to feel when your mind flashes an image of those same arms around you, “F-Five years in that cell and you still can’t even address me by my-” You're cut off when he looms closer all of a sudden, causing your stammered words to die out in your throat somewhere. He's mute as he draws close and then cranes his head down to your neck, inhaling you sharply. “...What are you doing?” You ask slowly, heart beginning to do that loud thumping thing again.
“You smell like another guy,” Sukuna utters a few inches away from your skin. It was almost as though he could see the scent of someone else on you before he even leaned in like that.
It gave you chills.
Trying to laugh his actions off again, you end up reaching a free hand up to his chest to try and lightly push him away, “What are you, a dog?”
“Woof," wisps out of his lips in a half-joking manner but with the way it slathers against your skin before the tip of his nose replaces the sensation as he zeros in on your neck, you're left struggling with a million and one emotions.
“The fuck…?” You whisper to yourself.
He only chuckles at your reaction, finding it rather cute, “Is that what I have to be to get in your good graces again?" Sukuna asks as his face adjusts to your neck and his teeth graze you, "Some kind of mutt?"
"No," You scoff, "Y-You're never getting in my good graces again." Your hand pushes at him again but even he could tell you don't mean anything by the gesture. Especially considering how you finally place your knife down somewhere behind you.
To which he smiles knowingly, "Oh yeah?"
"...Yeah," You manage out softly, turning your head to try and see what exactly he's doing.
"You don't sound so confident," Sukuna utters into your skin as if to let his words tattoo themselves into the area.
And hey, maybe you didn't sound confident because you weren't. So instead of searching for something new to say to him in response, you fall back on the same thing you've been saying to him for as long as you can remember. Angling your head elsewhere as you scoff a neatly said, "Fuck you."
"You keep saying that," He replies quickly while steadily gliding his head away from your neck and lifting. It's then that you're made well aware of how close he is to you now. Such little distance remains from his face to yours and all it would take is a short lean downwards for his lips to be against yours if either of you wished it so, "And I'm starting to think you want me to." He finishes off bluntly.
You blink out of your temporary daze just then, "What?"
"Fuck you," Your ex-best friend half-way clarifies, "It seems like you want me to fuck you."
"You-," Your words pause whilst your lashes flutter over one another, mind troubling itself trying to wrap around the audacity he seemed to carry after all this time. "You can't set my house on fire, go to jail for it, and then come back to me years later and try to sleep with me," You remind the man as you carry your stern gaze back up onto his, "Time does not equate to an apology, asshole."
Sukuna cocks a brow and bites back a laugh at the sound of that, "Is that what you need from me? A measly little apology?"
You scoff, "No, I don't need one from you but it would be nice-"
"I'm sorry." He says frankly, "Now, what else can I do to make up for it, hm?" His other hand presses behind you and you're trapped between both of his bulky arms before you even realize it, his voice dropping a tone and making the moment all the more intimate, "One thousand, eight hundred, and twenty nine days in which I have not seen nor heard from you and yet," You watch as his head tilts slowly and his eyes cascade down to the curve of yours lips, "You expect me to pry myself away from you?"
"Sukuna," You whisper, feeling almost suffocated in the lack of space between the two of you. Every fiber of his being was swallowing you up by the second and yet no matter how consuming it all felt, you couldn't find it in yourself to want to pull away.
You're unsure why his name even tiptoes past your lips like that when you carry no sort of argument against him any more. Sure, you should hate him now-, you think you still do but, it's hard to consider those emotions when he's so close.
Then his voice sinks another octave and your knees are feeling weak as his words exit him with something sinfully heated behind them, "I have missed you, achingly, for years," Sukuna claims, leaving you intoxicated in everything that pertains to him all over again. The tip of his finger meets your chin and forces your head further up, both of you now looking at the same thing now. "Yet you deny me. Why?" He questions.
You swallow thickly, as if that would lessen your nonexistent will to escape him, "You tried to kill me..." Your voice is meek and you hate every second of it, "Y-You set my house on fire."
The man fights with the smile that nearly broadens itself across his lips, "You remain unharmed."
"What about my home, Sukuna?" You ask in return, seeing as that is the most important thing here second to your well-being. Your tone is a little more sturdy now and he catches onto it, the sound making that undesirable glint in his irises return.
"It has been repaired, I see," He points out comically. After which his hand shifts and he holds the entirety of your jaw in his palm, thumb caressing your skin whilst he leans in and stops juuuust before his lips are on yours, "What more do you want from me?"
Your mouth trembles with the words that ached to leave them, unconsciously longing for the finality that is him kissing you at some point. You hated how in all the time he's been gone you'd done everything but move on and instead worked yourself up to a point so low in being touch-starved that you wanted to whine from the sheer closeness you shared with him alone.
"...Tell me why you did it." You eventually manage to demand from him.
He sighs but his answer is immediate, "You tried to replace me."
"What?" Your brows meet and your eyes shoot up to his, "No I didn't. I-I'd never-,"
"Gojo," Sukuna starts off interruptingly, allowing himself to meet those gorgeous pupils of pure vexing distaste he'd missed oh-so-graciously, "The fireman..."
"You can't be serious," You spat as you barely made an attempt to tug your chin out of his hold.
The effort you make is completely in vain since he only tightens his grip and this time tugs you impossibly closer, your breaths intertwining with one another now. "Forgive me," He demands, lips grazing the skin of yours as he does so.
Your mind halts every thought for a moment. The way he was looking at you alone was enough for you to have forgiven him a long time ago. Hell, you almost forget you were ever even mad with him to begin with. Sputtering, "I-I can't just-"
"Then let me apologize properly," Sukuna cuts off smoothly, words practically seeping out directly into your mouth now.
And all you could do was swallow down each one, completely entrapped in every thread of seductive manipulation he'd woven into you over the years. Your statement is airy as it strings out of you slowly, "You shouldn't even be here."
"I'm here because you need me to be," He protests.
You detest how true that may be but, you lie anyway, "No, I don't."
"Your body betrays your claims," The fugitive points out in the same way he always had whenever he saw directly through you, "Just look at the way you've leaned into my every touch as if you crave it—long for it, even," Sukuna continues on as his lips being to part over your own, ready to capture them in the sweetest, long overdue kiss. "Let me make my amends to you, woman." He requests of you kindly, shortly adding a borderline desperate, "Please."
——
You should never have given to that, really.
You were supposed to keep up with your act of stubbornness and not go back to your old ways of forgiving him no matter how wrong he did you. Yet, like any toxic relationship, you can't seem to find it in yourself to do that at all.
So here you are now, debauched and ruined in front of your own bedroom mirror. Having been put on display by the same man you were supposed to kick out of your home hours ago, you're busy bouncing up and down a looong expanse of his thick inches as he did nothing more than talk you to filth.
“Y’see this? See what’s all mine?” Sukuna rasps hotly against the sensitive shell of your ear, having one of his thick hands settled neatly onto the curve of your hips as he guides you up and down his swollen shaft with no sense of gentleness whatsoever. His other hand busies itself away with your jaw to keep your head facing the mirror just a few inches away from the edge of the bed where the two of you are sat, “Yeahhh, look how pretty she is taking all that cock. Taking all my cock. Uhuh..”
Your pussy is left swallowing up everything he stuffs up into you, singing out sloppy glistens of wetness and slick every time he hits that spot inside you no one else ever has or could before. All whilst your mouth dangles open, gorgeous strings of moans 'n whimpers gliding out of your throat and filling the air of your bedroom—the same bedroom he'd previously heard you talking to so many other guys in.
You never knew it of course; never knew that he had your entire home bugged from top to bottom, always listening to who you talked to and how you spoke to them. So five years ago, that might've been how he'd heard you call Gojo your best friend but, none of that matters much now. You're exactly where Sukuna has wanted you to be all this time.
“Fucked so stupid on it already,” He grunts at the way you're struggling to keep up your rhythm on top of him. “How cute,” Sukuna adds on cooingly, to which your cunt flexes ever so deliciously around his slobbering length.
Everything's a literal mess now.
You've got your neck plastered in spit and bite marks, all from the man who just swore he had to make sure you and anyone else who dare set their eyes on you after this knew you belonged to someone. The two of you have been at it for hours now and at this point you're hoping the police have long since forgotten about searching for him.
At some point you think you should've gone numb from the pleasure he'd given you but instead it was the exact opposite; you just couldn't get enough!
With the way your walls hugged the fat of his cock so snuggly every time he spoke, he couldn't help but carry out his teasing, “No one else has been in here, huh?” He asked, despite already being quite sure of the answer.
From drooly lips, “N-No, Sukuna,” You hardly manage out, especially with the way the wide crown of his cock is just thrashing up against your cervix, leaving the nastiest of kisses all against it so that you'll never forget the feeling, “Jus’ you.."
He smiles proudly at the sound of that and something in his chest swells dangerously. Hips bucking up faster-, harder to rudely knock up against the same place that's been gushing all over every inch of him for fuck knows how long now, "Really? So you were saving this pussy just for me, hm?”
“No,” You try huffing out. Instead, the short word comes out as more of a moan than anything but, all your syllables had been leaving you like that.
Just a few minutes ago he'd had you spread out over your bed and mumbled apologies into your cunt with nasty swirls of his tongue, inscribing every "sorry" into your walls with searing licks and lathers. It was the only time in all this that he'd gone somewhat quiet and instead let your pussy do the talking.
You hardly grasped what transpired from that to now since you're struggling to take everything he's giving you. Hell, you can barely get yourself to sink all the way down to that dark ink he's got wrapped around his cock, having told you that the tattoo there is—apparently—what you're supposed to be reaching with every thrust.
“Feels like you were,” He husks out thickly in between ragged breaths, grin only enlarging itself out across his slicked face, “Look at how sloppy she is around me,” And just as he says that, you're doing nothing more than watching the way your pussy lips drool so stupidly against the angry veins of his dick. To which he snickers into your ear just to tease you some more, “Such a wet lil' thing.”
You can't even control the way your head flops back somewhere against him, hips growing fatigued by the minute and throat hoarse from your pathetic mewls of pleasure, “Hnngh, S-Sukunaa."
The man only tuts before shaking his head a little to get the sweat-soaked pink locks of hair sticking to his forehead to move a bit, taking in the sight of how slovenly the both of you look right now.
With his lips sticking to the sensitive crest of your ear, he whispers ever so tentatively, “Made s’perfect for me,” A praise that only has you drenching the stretching girth that's tucked heavenly inside you, “Aren’t you?”
“M-Mhmm,” You agree instantly, of course. You think you've forgotten how to and the overall desire to deny him a long time ago from now.
Just then you feel a certain twitch spasming against your honeyed walls, causing a lewd squelch to ring out. Sukuna's breath gets even more breathier as his heavy balls ache for the release he's been saving just for you. “Slut,” He calls, almost as if that were your birth given name. “Look at me,” The same strong hand on your jaw forces your head to turn and your eyes meet his dilated pupils, “Can you feel that? Feel what you do to me? What you’ve been doing to me? Hm?”
Just as he asks you all those dirty questions, you feel him rolling the rest of his cock deeper inside you, trying to make that slathered tattoo disappear all the way past your puffy folds already.
“Yes,” You croak pliantly, earning a mocked pout of his kiss-bitten lips.
“Yeah? How do I feel inside there, huh?” He asks, just to earn a soft whine out of your throat instead of proper response. Then he cocks his brow up, “S’good you can’t answer me properly? Poor thing—here," All. of your breath is ripped out of your lungs as he then moves both of his arms down to swoop under your thighs and lift them up and out. Followed by which is him finding the nerve to stand with you in his hold.
You quickly find yourself in a full nelson before you have the time to break out of your cockdrunken state. The drool from your lips drips out onto the floor with soft, nasty splatters that match what's currently leaking all off of his balls and onto the floor.
Oh, the sight is nothing short of pure filth.
But—naturally—Sukuna's not phased by the change of positions in the slightest, "Tell me if this is better for you.” He taunts.
Better for you? As if. You could feel a tingling sensation thrumming all throughout your legs as they reduced to utter mush in his arms, especially as he starts moving. His thick cock dives in and out of your leaking hole, creating the prettiest sounds of nastiness that reverberate throughout the space around you.
Sukuna spreads you out impossibly wider with his rugged, tattooed arms secured too neatly under the plush of your thighs, having you take him fully now. Your hips feel wobbly whilst he hauls you up and down his cock, leaving you to do nothing but sop up everything he slid so thoroughly into you.
You're gasping when his wiiiide cock lodges so suddenly against your sweetest spot, “Kuna’, c-can’t—mmgh! Fuck! M’gonna cum,” You pant heavily, adding on a cute whine of, “S'too much!”
He's kissing somewhere near your neck now but you're too focused on the feel of his weepy head against where you needed him most to realize. Not until he starts that raspy purring against your hot skin, “Again? You like my cock that much?”
“N-No,” You manage to argue playfully, “I just-, mmnh! I-I like the way you fuck me.”
“Oh really?” He scoffs instantaneously, as if offended for a second. “And yet look at this messy pussy," Sukuna directs, causing your attention to shift down at the way you've left the creamiest mess of release all around that dark ink of his. "Crying alll around the same cock she hates.”
“Ohfuck,” You gape, eyes watering up again when he bites down hard at your neck. Something deep in the pit of your stomach felt as though you were bursting and fuck did it feel good.
So good that you're driven straight into overstimulation for the nth time of the night, all while sobbing and pleading for something—though you're not quite sure what for. It's not like you wanted a break by this point, no, no, you were much more interested in him breaking you.
So why does your body start squirming in his arms all over the place as if to escape him? You've no idea.
“Don’t do that,” Sukuna starts scolding you the moment he catches onto it, arms bulging around your folded body and locking you in place, “Take it, since you like the way I fuck. Take it, every fuckin’ inch—none of these-," His head angles up to lick the streaming teardrops off of your cheeks, "Mmh… sweet-, tears. Awh, look at you trying to run from it. S'this too much for my slutty girl?” He sears into you.
“Sukuna, please,” You beg. For what? You're still unsure but by this point you're unsure about everything. The only thing you can think about is the way he feels inside you.
He's still breaking out that smug smile of his, taunting, “Please what?”
“I-I can’t—“ You don’t even know what you were trying to say with the way your mind blanks and you cream around the thick of his cock yet again.
“Shh, shh, listen to her," Sukuna instructs, letting your gasps and cunt become the loudest things in the room. “Y'Hear that? That’s what good sluts sound like when they get fucked right.” He explains to you, talking into your ear once more just to have you spasming all around him for the millionth time. The baritone in his voice gets impossibly heavier in the next second, “Hah, ready to hear how they get bred?”
In response, all you can do is clench around him and manage a lazy, fucked-out nod of your head.
“Ohhh, you are, huh?” He coos.
“Uhuhh,” You babble, “Please ‘Kuna... N-Need it."
A scratchy grunt tumbles up from his throat, “Need what? Say it for me.”
“Cum inside me,” You say fully and almost perfectly for the first time in hours, “Fuck me full.”
He almost does at the sound alone but for some reason, he feels as though he needed to hold out just a little longer. "S'that what you need?" Sukuna huffs, thrusts entirely uneven now with the way his pearly 'n dawdling cockhead thwacked around your insides with no more direct focus, just feral need. "You need my cum inside you?"
"Yes," You weep delightfully.
Your best friend can only manage another, "Fuck, I've missed you so much." at the sound of that. Then he's spilling every globbing rope of cum inside you. His thrusts punctuating to make sure it takes, "Thought about you every. single. day."
"Sukuna," Your head is turning elsewhere again and for some reason he hates that.
So he's rasping a needy, "Look at me," all over again, swallowing down the terribly plead that nearly jumped out of his throat. Masking the near level of patheticness he'd reached, "Now tell me you love me." he demands instead.
Your mind may be a mush of cockdrunk and fucked-stupid but you still carry that same strength to push his buttons one more time, "F-Fuck you,"
Sukuna groans harshly and turns around with you. One second you're held tightly in his hands and the next he's laying you down on the bed flat with a rough grab on your head just to push it against your bedsheets. The next few moans that leave your throat are broken and muffled as he plows into you in yet another new position—prone bone—and driving his fat cock into every quivering crevice of your cunt.
His free hand presses down against the newfound arch in your spine and his dick feels even thicker inside you somehow. Eyes fluttering, you end up giving in without him having to say anything else, "F-Fuck! I love you, 'Kuna..." You sob into the bed.
He tugs your head up by your hair with a sharp pull, "One more time f'me?"
"Hnngh, I l-love you," You whimper.
He chuckles as if he's aware of something you're not, "Oh, I know you do, sweetheart, I know." Then he's leaning down, wide, muscular body caging yours as he speaks carefully, "You're never gonna send me off like that again, right?"
"Never," You're choking now, his hard tip kissing that spot of yours yet again.
"So obedient," Sukuna comments whilst practically spelling his name out into your cunt, "All I have to do is give you some cock for you to obey my every word, huh?"
You're nodding like some idiotic whore now, "Mhmm.."
"What a slut." He scoffs—as if he isn't into it or something—and then lets his eyes glide down your gorgeously ruined body, "My slut though, isn't that right?"
You don't even try to think before speaking. The words easy fall past your lips in a wispy puff, "All yours S'kuna."
"Juuust as I fuckin' thought," He breathes out in return. And then with one last little snicker, his voice dips to something so quiet that you nearly miss the way he finishes off with a softened, "'Love you too, woman."
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