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Tear Me to Pieces

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Sukuna 30
Professional Dom

Looking for a new pet to play with. Casual only.

Megumi’s thumb paused over his screen when the short description caught his eye. He had been mindlessly swiping through Tinder for an hour now, lazing in his PJs and progressively sinking further and further into his ratty hand-me-down sofa. Most of the miserable prospects had been an immediate swipe left as he lazily pet his hounds, an old Forensic Files episode playing on the TV as background noise. There was the occasional swipe right, but his intentions at most had been maybe.

Usually, he would be annoyed by such a short description—how was he supposed to know if he could click with a stranger in 10 words or less? But, he had to admit, this one was straight to the point. No bullshit. He liked no bullshit.

With his interest now piqued, Megumi took a closer look at the mirror selfie that came with the short description. The older man held his phone in one hand, nails painted black, and leaned on a door frame in a way that showed off his bicep. The guy obviously works out, Megumi thought, trying not to salivate over the washboard abs and pecs because, of course, the guy was wearing nothing but jeans in his one and only picture.

Aside from his body, Sukuna had a pretty handsome face too—strong jawline, pointed chin, an unlit cigarette between his lips that were stretched into a cocky, crooked grin. There were face tattoos in the form of solid black lines adorning his forehead, below his eyes, the bridge of his nose, and from his cheekbones to his chin. The ink on Sukuna’s face was a perfect complement to the other solid lines and shapes decorating the man’s torso (and other places, most likely).

Huh, the face tattoos are actually kinda hot, Megumi thought to himself. He had never considered tattoos as a turn-on before, but the ink accentuated the other man’s features in all the right ways.

Sukuna’s appearance reflected exactly how Megumi would imagine a Professional Dom might look (not that he would know), with the exception of the pastel peachy-pink crown of hair, styled and pushed back. It was the only soft feature he could find in Sukuna’s appearance. Everything else was sharp—his muscles, his bone structure, his expression—and the older man looked as if he could gut Megumi like a knife with a single glance.

In summary, Sukuna looked like an asshole. Which meant he was exactly Megumi’s type.

He swiped right.



Megumi 25

Gay. 5’11”. Working towards a Ph.D. in Veterinary Medicine.

I have two dogs, too many books, and a caffeine dependency. When I’m not at school or work, I’m usually at home watching Forensic Files or dog videos while I swipe mindlessly on this stupid app. 

Looking for something more interesting to occupy my free time. Nothing serious, just casual or FWB.

Sukuna quirked a brow when he read the bio, not expecting a Ph.D. student to swipe right on him. The younger man’s first photo made him look soft, innocent and wholesome—but he had his fair share of unexpected clients and partners. Sukuna shifted in his cushioned patio chair, wearing nothing but a loose pair of track pants as he sat on his back deck, taking in the sounds and warmth of the evening’s golden hour. He lit his cigarette with one hand, phone cradled in the other, as he took a closer look at the younger man who decided to swipe right, again, on him. How smart can he be if he’s willing to make a bad decision like me? Unless it was an accident, Sukuna thought.

In the candid photo, Megumi was sitting on lush grass with two large Alaskan Malamutes, one black and one white. His dark hair looked nothing short of bedhead, wearing an oversized white tee and black jeans while smiling down softly at the two dogs rather than the camera. Cute, he thought absentmindedly, tapping to see the next photo on the other man’s profile as smoke spilled from his nostrils. Now you have my attention, Sukuna mused to himself as he took in the sight of a much less wholesome image. 

On the cracked display, he saw Megumi —he liked that name—reflected in a mirror while seated on a bed. One leg hung off the side of the mattress, the other folded in front of him. Soft morning light illuminated the man’s moody expression, head propped up in one hand with his elbow resting on his bent knee. Intense blue eyes stared directly into the mirror as if he were looking back at Sukuna through the phone. The image left little to the imagination because he was wearing nothing but a sheet lazily thrown over his hips. Sukuna could still make out the toned muscles of his thighs, the sharp angle of a hip bone, his slender waist, and broad shoulders. Again, his raven hair was in the same gravity-defying mess as the previous picture— there’s no way that’s natural —pulling off the disheveled appearance and looking inexplicably decadent. Sukuna unconsciously licked his lips before taking another drag of his cigarette, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Alright Megumi, he thought to himself, I’ll bite.

He swiped right.



what’s a smart guy like you doing matching with a degenerate like me?

Megumi stared at his phone screen. He hadn’t expected the Professional Dom to swipe right back on him, let alone message him less than an hour later. He might have to thank Nobara for the match though—she had insisted on adding a “thirsty” photo to his profile after months of unsuccessful matches and disappointing dates. Once he worked himself up to the task, it took him over an hour to get a photo where he didn’t look too constipated. In most of his failed selfies, his expression was angry and uncomfortable as he struggled to position his long limbs in a way that appeared natural. After what was probably 200 snapshots of him trying to look “like a snack” (Nobara’s words, not his), he had to admit that the photo he settled on was kind of sexy. I hope he thinks I look good enough to eat.

He decided to reply, typing swiftly before he could overthink it.

Curiosity. And you’re my type.

A jolt of anxiety filled his gut immediately after he hit send. He sank into the couch, trying to take a deep breath to ease his nerves. He looked back at Sukuna’s profile again. Still stupidly hot, Megumi thought as he reread his bio. 

Looking for a new pet to play with. The simple description left a lot to the imagination, and his was running wild. I want him to play with me, bend me in half, and fuck the shit out of me, he thought, aroused by how threatening and cocksure the other man appeared.

Megumi wasn’t inexperienced. He had his fair share of good boyfriends and (mostly) bad boyfriends, good lays and bad lays. But the sex was never exceptional; mostly vanilla with some barely satisfying spanking and light roleplay. He had always been curious about kink and BDSM, especially the power dynamics of domming and subbing, but now that the opportunity was possibly presenting itself… well, he was nervous. 

His phone pinged, drawing him out of his spiral of arousal and anxiety—his apprehension was immediately replaced with excitement. He eagerly opened his Tinder messages.

what is your type exactly?

The younger man paused, mulling the question over. It was hard to put into a few words. Strong, hot, and dangerous was one way to put it. But, if he was going to get what he wanted, he was going to have to try a little harder than that. He needed to say something a little more… appetizing. 

Someone who can tear me to pieces without even laying a hand on me.

Megumi didn't have time to set his phone down in an attempt to not overthink the conversation too much before he heard another ping.

I would love to tear you to pieces 



Sukuna had been a professional Dom for almost eight years now, though he had been practicing since the minute he turned 18. It started with a high school girlfriend asking him to choke her because she was curious. He obviously didn’t want to kill her—they just wanted to pretend—so he did his research. His initial Google search was how to safely choke someone, but he quickly fell down a rabbit hole. As he read more about BDSM and, more specifically, Dom/sub dynamics, it was like something inside him clicked—it felt like he found the missing piece of his identity.

Sukuna was never very studious, which was why he dropped out of high school in his second year. Between taking care of his grandpa and kid brother, and working shit jobs, what was the point in the extra stress? When it came to his passion, however, he was actually an excellent student. Traditional education was horrendously boring, but learning how to give someone pleasure through pain and power? That was exhilarating.

He spent years attending workshops, observing professionals in real dungeons, practicing with various partners, and even reading books. He embraced all the tools of the trade and drank up every lesson: the differences in leather types and weights for flogs; what type of rope was most comfortable; the proper way to spank someone; and of course, most important of all, safety and consent. 

Eventually, after getting to know the right people in the kink community, he landed a gig of his own at a dungeon. It didn’t take long for him to amass a list of private clients, regulars he vetted and trusted enough to meet outside of dungeons. He rendezvoused with most of his clients at BDSM love hotels, but not all of them had the right equipment or met his standards. For his long-term clients that he trusted, Sukuna wanted a private space where he could do it right. So he packed up his shitty apartment and bought a house—something he thought he’d never do. 

It took him a year to renovate the basement into his very own dungeon but it was never finished. He was constantly buying new toys, equipment, and even decorating it so it felt both dangerous and sensual. Sukuna’s own personal dungeon—his private domain—was his pride and joy.

Spanking, flogging, choking, and shibari were his favourite activities. What he loved the most though was the power that came with dominating someone. It wasn’t about him taking pleasure from them, it was about others offering themselves for the taking. Tyrants took what they wanted, but Gods received willing offerings. That was exactly how Sukuna felt when someone offered up their body and pleasure to him, relinquishing their power and letting him pleasure them in the most intense, painful, and beautiful ways—he felt like a God.

Sukuna loved what he did; it wasn’t just a job, it was a lifestyle. However, he came to realize that he had been doing all work and no play the last few years. It had been a while since he had a partner (romantic or sexual) that wasn’t based on a transaction. He wasn’t looking for a relationship or to settle down by any means, just someone to fuck around with that wasn’t paying him. Having a casual relationship where he wasn’t always expected to perform strenuous scenes or intense kink would be a stress reliever.

To find a fuck buddy, he had been doing a sort of… interview process. He vetted every prospect with your average hookup at first—no dynamics, no intense BDSM or any other kink exploration. If his potential partner managed to keep him interested through vanilla-flavoured fucking, then he would be intrigued to explore something more intense. So far, there had been a lot of mediocre sex where he was expected to do all the work. Sukuna wasn’t looking for a pillow princess, he was looking for a submissive who was ready and willing to work just as hard for the dynamic.

His first impression of Mr. Fancy-Pants-PhD-Student was: he’s probably perfect boyfriend material, not boy toy material. But Sukuna was willing to admit that first impressions could be wrong. 

Their initial short exchange of messages made him think twice about how he’d first perceived Megumi. “ Someone who can tear me to pieces without even laying a hand on me,” stirred something in Sukuna—like a predator cornering helpless prey, ready to tear into his supple flesh.

I’d like to bite that sharp collarbone of his, Sukuna thought, admiring the mostly-nude photo of Megumi in his bed for maybe the 5th or 6th time. He noticed something new every time he looked—a few freckles on his thigh, the mountain of books on a nightstand in the background, and his surprisingly large, elegant hands. He was excited for this one, not just because Megumi was a looker. The younger man had that innocent, boy-next-door that you’d take home to mom impression, but Sukuna had a feeling he wasn’t actually like that.

Megumi’s schedule was tight, so it took them nearly a week to fit something in. Since they first matched, they had shared several flirtatious exchanges and agreed to meet for coffee to feel things out. The two of them had traded recent STI results in the time leading up to their meeting, in case they did end up hooking up. Sukuna had a gut feeling they would because the flirtation they shared seemed to promise as much.

It wasn’t a date, not in the traditional sense, but he still wanted to look good. Good, but not like he tried too hard. He settled for dark, well-fitted jeans and a soft lavender short-sleeved button-up, leaving the top two buttons undone. He liked wearing pastels and cute patterns because it softened his appearance enough for people to second guess their first impression of him. He had started dying his hair a light pink for the same reason. It wasn’t about trying to seem more approachable, he just liked to keep people guessing.

Sukuna added a pair of wire-rimmed sunglasses, then got his keys and phone as he made his way out the door. He was intentionally going to be fashionably late—just to test Megumi’s patience.



Megumi was early. Way too early. 

He agreed to meet Sukuna on his only day off so he had plenty of time to prepare because he knew that he was going to overthink everything. He spent over an hour FaceTiming Nobara to debate on what he should wear. Maki, his adopted sister and Nobara’s fiancée, was also present but she didn’t offer anything more than the occasional judgment, such as “ You look like a nerd,” and “Why do you even own that?”

Most of Megumi’s wardrobe was monochromatic with stark white and pitch black (plus a lot of dog shirts), not leaving much room for creativity, Nobara claimed. But they managed to agree on a simple look, suitable for the early spring weather: cropped black pants and a white long-sleeved dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, which she insisted was a very crucial detail. Megumi decided he would complete the outfit with his not-so-beat-up black and red high-top sneakers to match.

Lastly, Nobara carefully curated his accessories, instructing him to wear a watch with a black leather band and a silver face, plus a simple silver chain. “Trust me,” she said through the speakerphone with a satisfied look on her face, “a necklace is a powerful weapon. It draws attention to your neck, and he’s gonna think about necking you the whoooole time. Watch his eyes and you’ll see. Works every time for me!” He could only barely make out Maki saying “Wait, you do what?” somewhere off-screen. 

Even though the two of them took a painful amount of time on his outfit, plus another hour of Nobara asking a million questions about his mystery date and his intentions (Megumi gave very few answers), he was still early. He was content to bide his time, so he found a quiet corner in the café and settled down in a cushy chair with his coffee and a book.

Megumi was very early, but Sukuna was very late. He had long since finished his coffee and was leisurely reading The Fever King for an hour before he started debating between buying another coffee and leaving. But Megumi was stubborn; he resolved to stay put in the cushioned chair, letting himself get lost in the novel as the smell of freshly brewed espresso and baked goods filled the warm, rustic coffee shop. It was fine. If he got stood up, he brought textbooks and other school work so he could get some studying done too. Though he was hoping it wasn’t going to come to that.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” came a deep voice from in front of him, breaking Megumi’s concentration. His eyes snapped up, finally laying on the stranger he had been itching to meet for the last few days.

Megumi was tall, taller than most of his friends, but Sukuna was tall— 6’5”, Megumi might guess. He truly towered over him from his seated position, and the fresh knowledge of their height difference made Sukuna even hotter (if that was even possible). Taking in the other man’s appearance, frankly shocked that he was real, he was even more thrown that he could look both soft and intimidating simultaneously.

“For some reason, I’m not surprised that you’re late,” Megumi said bluntly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “To be honest, I was half convinced you were a catfish.”

Sukuna let out a chuckle, lifting his sunglasses to prop them up on his head, revealing dark brown eyes that looked almost pitch black even in daylight. “One hundred percent authentic, baby,” he said with a shark-like grin. I would let him bend me over and have his way with me right here, right now, he thought, still processing the fact that Sukuna was real.

“Let me buy you another one,” Sukuna offered, gesturing to Megumi’s empty cup. “As a reward for waiting so patiently.” 

“Dark roast, black,” Megumi replied without reading too much into the reward comment.

“Mm, a man after my own heart,” the older man purred before leaving to order. 

Megumi took the few minutes he had alone to stow his book away in his bag and check his phone. He already had several messages from Nobara waiting for him.

Noba 💅
i need to know if the hot and scary looking guy is real
are you dead?
you legally have to tell me if you’re dead
maki said she will avenge you and i can watch

Gumi 🐶
No, I’m not dead, he just got here. He’s real. And really hot.

Noba 💅
omg, u need to hit that and tell me EVERYTHING

Gumi 🐶
I will tell you nothing.

Megumi saw that Sukuna was grabbing their coffee and threw his phone in his bag before Nobara could reply again. The older man set down the two steaming cups on the table and sat down in a cushioned chair across from Megumi.

“I want to establish this up front: no family names,” Sukuna started, getting straight to business. Megumi was taken aback for a moment, but he appreciated how candid the other man was. “I’m Sukuna, you’re Megumi, that’s all we need to know. Just for the sake of privacy, you good with that?”

Megumi nodded.

“Good. Let’s talk intentions. For me, this is not a date, I’m not gonna be your boyfriend, and I’m not looking for a relationship. What’re you looking for?”

“Straight to the point, I like that,” Megumi commented, mulling over the question for a moment with a thoughtful hum. “I’ve still got a year left of my Ph.D. to go, I work part-time, and I have two dogs that need a lot of attention. I can’t fit a boyfriend into my schedule, and I don’t want one either. Honestly, I’m just looking for a reliable hook-up—I hate having to constantly look for one-night stands.”

Sukuna’s eyebrows perked up as he took a sip of his coffee. Megumi noticed that the older man’s fingernails were painted black again, with the exception of a pink accent nail on his middle finger. “You understand what I do, right?” Sukuna spoke between gulps of still-piping-hot coffee. “I’m not just looking for a reliable booty call.”

“I know, you’re looking for a new pet to play with,” Megumi boldly echoed the words that caught his eye in the first place, crossing his legs as he leaned back in his chair. Nobara’s guidance echoed in his mind: A necklace is a powerful weapon... Watch his eyes and you’ll see.

Megumi started to play with the silver chain hanging around his neck and Sukuna’s eyes did follow. Watching this older, more confident and experienced man lick his lips as he eyed Megumi’s neck, coffee forgotten, gave him a rush of courage. 

“I don’t have experience with kink, but I want to learn because frankly, I’m bored. I’m tired of boys my age who think their dicks are worth writing home about when they can barely last 10 minutes,” he paused, expression changing to a satisfied smirk as Sukuna laughed, nearly choking on his coffee when he took a poorly timed drink.

“Like I said: I want you to tear me to pieces and I meant it,” Megumi finished, drinking his own coffee in a languid fashion. He was definitely trying to play up the sex appeal. As ungrateful Megumi seemed at times, Nobara’s advice was valuable. He could see Sukuna watching him like a predator as he licked his lips after every sip.

“Okay, Megumi, ” Sukuna said, his name sounding like a delicacy coming out of the Dom’s mouth. Megumi’s eyes caught a flash of silver on Sukuna’s tongue, realizing with excitement that he had a tongue piercing—no wait, two tongue piercings. “Let’s have some fun, then I’ll see if I’m willing to show you the ropes—literally and figuratively.”

“I like the sound of that.” Megumi tipped his coffee cup up, draining it in two seconds. “Let’s do this.”