Just Thinking About Tracing Suguru's Scar.

Just thinking about tracing Suguru's scar.

Word Count - 0.9k

A/N - I dedicate this piece to the Anon that flooded my inbox with 30+ messages telling me how it was canon that Gojo didn't have any scars.

Read the Gojo version here!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

GETO never let you see his scars after he received them — suddenly he was covering himself up with thick sweaters and baggy clothes. You noticed … you always noticed.  

But you said nothing, not wanting to draw unwanted attention to something that he was very clearly adamant on keeping hidden.  

One night, however, your curiosity got the better of you. You didn’t mean to pry as much as you did, but you desperately wanted Geto to know that you weren’t going to suddenly start looking at him differently because of some raised skin — you wanted him to be comfortable around you. 

You wanted things to be like they were before. 

He was different. You could see it as clear as day.  

His hugs didn’t last as long as they once did, instead of bear hugs that he wouldn’t pull away from unless you did first, you received a half-assed sideways squeeze.  

It felt like he didn’t want to be touching you in fear of contaminating you, like you would catch some otherworldly disease that didn’t yet have a cure. It hurt you – it stung in a way that nothing else could compare to.  

When you sat on the couch beside him, he would scoot a few inches away from you. 

When you laid down to take a nap beside him, he’d offer you only his pinky and nothing else.  

When you went to embrace him, his body would angle itself so that his shoulder rested against your chest.  

“Suguru?” you whisper to him under the cloak that night provided, turning to face him properly. He mimics you, rolling onto his side and propping himself up with the use of his elbow, palm resting against the side of his face.  

“Hmm?” he hums in response, eyes studying your expression. His face pinches in slight concern at your narrowed eyes and furrowed brows — something was very clearly upsetting you.  

“Are we okay?”  

He pauses, staring quizzically at you as if you had somehow sprouted another head. His free hand extends, finger rubbing affectionately against your cheek.  

“Course we are. Why do you ask?” he murmurs, breath catching in his throat as you push yourself to sit up. Your legs cross, one ankle over the other while you maintain eye contact with Geto.  

Your mind reminds you of what he had been doing; the behaviors that he had been displaying. What wasn’t he telling you? 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, not wanting to accidentally make a big deal out of something that could otherwise be nothing. 

“What are you hiding from me?” you whisper, already feeling tears build on your waterline at Geto’s shocked (and worried) expression. He looked so conflicted, so unsure that it made your heart crack.  

And even though he wants to believe that he has no idea what you’re referencing … he does.  

He looks away from you, and even though it’s only for a moment, it only makes your heart sink deeper into your stomach. “It’s—“ 

“Please don’t sit there and tell me it’s nothing,” you practically beg, voice cracking. Geto lets out a small sigh through his nose, adjusting himself so that he sits in front of you.  

“(Y/N)—“ he begins, but the way that you shake your head at him only makes him feel guilty, “—are you sure?” 

Your silence tells him everything that he needs to know.  

Slowly, and albeit very hesitantly, Geto lifts his shirt, revealing an ‘X’ shaped scar on his chest. Your breath hitches at the sight of it, the sound making Geto flinch.  

He tosses the shirt aside with a barely audible plop, not daring to make eye contact with you in fear of what expression you wore. So instead of glancing at you, Geto forces his eyes shut.  

They shoot right back open at the feeling of your fingers lightly tracing his chest.  

Shocked, his eyes flicker up to watch you. Your eyebrows are slightly pinched together, a worried indent to your forehead as your nails slowly move over the raised skin.  

You don’t say anything to him, not that you really need to. You knew that this — this gentle touch — was what Geto needed. He didn’t need half-assed reassurances that carried no weight. 

No, what he needed to know was that you were here, right with him, at his side — you weren’t going anywhere.  

Your finger reaches the end of where his scar slightly raises his skin. You shift forward, laying your palm against the center of the ‘X’, feeling Geto’s heart thumping against your fingers.  

He says nothing. You say nothing.  

Your eyes flicker up to meet his own. He returns your softened glance.  

“You’re so handsome Sugu … you know that, right?” you whisper tenderly, finally breaking the silence. The sigh he lets out in response is shaky, tear-filled.  

Before Geto has the chance to shake his head, your lips are on his scar, the softness of you contrasting greatly with the roughness of his skin.  

You glance back up at him, letting out a shocked squeak as he tugs you into his arms. Your head tucks into the crook of his neck, arms winding around his midsection.  

His breath shudders as his nose tucks into your hair. “Thank you.” 

You smile against him, turning your head and laying a chaste kiss against the skin of his throat. Your arms momentarily tighten around him, eyes closing in content. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too angel … thank you.” 

Hi 👋

Can u write Yuta, Gojo, Kokichi, and Noritoshi (the student) with a fem s/o who's very calm,quiet, and scary in public bcz of their scars and muscular body but when they are alone she's very sweet and shy :)

Make it fluff, and it's up to you if u wanna make it headcanons or whatever :)

Sypnosis - How would these boys fare with an S/O who doesn't look the most approachable at times?

Includes - Yuuta Okkotsu, Satoru Gojo, Kokichi Muta, Noritoshi Kamo

Warning(s) - none besides mention of scarring on Reader

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

You were not exactly known to have a friendly face or an approachable person – avoided by many in most social settings thanks to the deep furrow of your brow and the frown that curls the corners of your mouth downward. Though you could be doing something as simple as thinking about what to prepare for dinner that night, your exterior displayed a deep anger for any and all that surrounded you.  

You had built up walls that were borderline impenetrable … that is … until he steps into your life.  

YUUTA OKKOTSU  

Like many, at first, Yuuta was intimidated by you. You carried yourself in such a way that made it seem as if you were uninterested in everyone around you – which included him when he first transferred to Jujutsu Tech. 

Even Gojo seemed hesitant to introduce you, gesturing to you quickly with a wave of his hand before doing his absolute best to change the subject without it being noticed by you, Yuuta, or any of the other second-years.  

One of the first things that Yuuta notices about you is the thin scars that line your arms, little stories of the missions that you had been on and reminders of the curses that you had defeated.  

In truth, your appearance only adds to the mysterious, intimidating persona that you seemed to have adopted — one that deeply scared others and continuously drove them away from you.  

Initially, it seems like the only person that you tolerate is Maki, considering that she’s the only one that you show a sliver of emotion to. She’s the only one that you offer a soft smile to, the only one that you regard without that sharpened ice in your voice, the only one that you really showed that you were … well … human.  

The other second-years had your favor as well; Yuuta quite enjoyed watching you train with Panda or playfully argue with Inumaki. He just wished that he had the courage to do what they did — which essentially was just talking to you.  

It’s only really with Panda’s pushing that Yuuta eventually builds up enough courage to approach you, hesitantly asking if you’d wanted to spar with him (Maki was preoccupied with Inumaki). Shockingly, you smiled softly at him and accepted.  

The rest was, quite literally, history.  

Little by little, Yuuta makes his way over the walls that you had built up around your heart, soft eyes and gentle smile worming its way into your life without any intent of ever leaving.  

He begins to realize that the way you acted with him was a complete 180 to how you acted around others. You regarded him with a soft tone, you touched him with gentle palms, you cooed sweet praises to him and hugged him tightly on those cold nights. 

You may be a force to be reckoned with out on the field, but to Yuuta? You were the soft-spoken girl that he devoted his entire heart to.  

SATORU GOJO 

At first, Gojo doesn’t want to think that he finds you intimidating. He tries to be nonchalant when he sees you standing beside Nanami, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes flicker around the room — desperately trying to look anywhere but where you stand.  

His gaze is drawn to your scars almost immediately, slightly impressed at the fact that you do very little to hide them. In any other case, he would say that you were proud of them (at least, that’s what he thought).  

But, ever the confident man, Gojo does eventually decide to approach you (literally the second that Nanami leaves the room). He tries to crack a joke or two, hoping that you would break and that maybe you would crack a smile. You don’t … and he physically deflates. 

That does very little to actually deter him though. Actually, he makes it his personal mission to make his way over the walls that you’ve so obviously put up around your heart. While everyone else would find his actions downright annoying, you find them oddly endearing.  

It’s rare that someone takes such an interest in you, considering that the aura you radiated was really anything but initially friendly. To see Gojo try so hard to capture your attention … well, it only makes you that much more interested in just why he was so dead set on you.  

Eventually, Gojo finally finds it in himself to properly ask you out — in his very own Satoru Gojo way. A bouquet of overpriced roses, a night at a resturant with pricing that could probably pay your mortgage, and a sweet walk that ended with Gojo hopelessly devoting himself to you.  

He adores the change in your personality — how you can easily switch from sternly speaking to your students to mumbling to him as if he were the only thing in your world that mattered.  

But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t also love the firm persona you take on when you’re, for example, out for a day together.  

He adores you … always and forever. 

KOKICHI MUTA  

Unlike the others, Kokichi isn’t immediately put off by your appearance. If anything, he’s intrigued by it. In a way, you remind him of himself; kept to yourself and separated from others — it makes him want to interact with you right at that moment.  

He won’t ever admit it to your face, but the first time that he did end up speaking to you, he was quite literally shaking under your gaze. You were just so damn assertive. 

At first, you come off as very bothered by Kokichi – but he quickly learns that it's the complete opposite. Just because you were this scarred, unapproachable individual didn't make you any less human than Kokichi himself.  

Slowly but surely, he makes his way over those walls that you had built up around your heart, opening you up and revealing that softened persona that lay hidden underneath it all. The sweet-eyed, soft-spoken girl who really wanted nothing more than to love and be loved in return.  

Upon coming to that realization, Kokichi finds himself gentler with you – just like you were with him. His words are soft-spoken and truthful, his actions performed out of the kindness of his heart rather than if the situation called for it.  

All in all, Kokichi feels a sense of protectiveness over you once you finally open yourself up to him. You were being vulnerable with him in a way that you simply weren't around others. And he was going to protect that vulnerability, no matter what it took.  

NORITOSHI KAMO 

Out of all the previously mentioned characters, Noritoshi is the one who minds the least about your appearance. If anything, he finds himself relating to you — considering that many don’t approach him as well for various reasons.  

And so because of that, he approaches you with as much confidence as he could muster, striking up a conversation with you and regarding you just as softly and respectfully as he would anyone else.  

You’re caught off guard by him at first, though slowly but surely, you and Noritoshi constantly seek the other out.  

He admires your ability to switch between being stoic and cold to soft and sweet. How around others you wore an expression as cold as the harshest winter, but the moment that you heard the lull of his voice, you were turning to him with a gentle smile.  

Noritoshi admires your scars actually, spending many nights just laying at your side with his fingertips dragging over the raised skin. He’ll hum a quiet song for the both of you, holding you and simply moving his fingers along your arm or leg.  

Another thing that Noritoshi adores about you is the way you whisper to him during your time spent together — how you lower and soften your voice when speaking to him. He smiles gently at you when he notices, then holding your face and decorating your face with little kisses.  

He doesn't mind your switch from soft to stoic, he knows that it's just what you're used to and it's become the norm for you. To him, you're still his lover, his absolute everything -- no matter what persona you decide to put on for the day. 

next station - colonelarr0w

hi there! my name is arr0w, it's nice to meet you.

find my masterlist here!

read up on rules for requests here!

for those wondering what happened to my older works know that they are now all privated works as i'm trying to branch out and focus more on fandoms that interest me!

JJK- Hiromi x bratty! intelligent! reader with a smart mouth and a lack of self preservation. Hiromi’s a patient man but there’s only so many bratty comments he can take before he’s bending her over his knee and putting her in her place. maybe soft sex and praise after.

i headcanon him as a man who wears rings, take from that what you will. 😉

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - None, this is just smut.

A/N - First time writing for Higuruma! I actually continued reading the JJK manga specifically for him, and honestly, I'd like to write for him more.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Slap! 

"What? You really thought that I'd let you get away with makin' snide little comments like that?" Hiromi's voice is a gentle brush against your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe and tugging down on it just hard enough to make you moan out in both pain and pleasure.  

He smooths his hand over the curve of your ass, the cool metal of the rings he wore soothing the light burn that his repeated slaps had left behind. His lips turn upward in a smirk, half-lidded eyes flickering to meet your own as your back arches into him, tiny whines falling from your parted lips.  

"What? Was someone jealous?" Your tone is teasing as you tilt your head in Hiromi's direction, smirking at him as his hand stills against your skin, a shiver running up your spine at the borderline predatory look that glazes over his eyes.  

Roughly, Hiromi turns your body around, hands squeezing firmly at the skin of your hips as your chest presses flush against his own. His lips ghost over your own, quirking up in a shit-eating smirk as your mouth chases his. A whine leaves your parted lips as he leans back from you, denying you of the one thing that you were so desperately craving – him.  

"C'mon Hiromi," you breathe out, voice a tiny bit whiny in that way that he loved. He chuckles, his breath fanning over your face as he brings himself just a touch closer to you, the tips of your noses brushing against one another.  

"Awe, now we're begging? What happened to that snappy little attitude you had before? Tell me where that went," Hiromi teases with a raise of his eyebrow, eyes flickering down to your lips before they return to your half-lidded gaze.  

You remain silent, your arms wound around his neck. In an attempt to break him, you trace your fingernails along his nape, smirking at the shiver that it sends up his spine. He sighs, and you know that you've successfully broken him – he couldn't hold himself back from you for too long anyway. If anything, he wanted you just as much as you wanted him...if not more.  

"Thought you liked my little attitude," you grin, tilting your head and moaning quietly into Hiromi's mouth as his lips crash onto yours, unable to hold himself back any longer. One of his hands lifts to cradle the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.  

His teeth playfully nip at your bottom lip, smirking down at you as you pull back from him. Your eyes are half-lidded, gaze glazed over with lust as Hiromi’s hands begin to roam your body again — one hand resting on your ass while the other hikes up your thigh to wrap your leg over his waist.  

His head dips down, lips just barely grazing the skin of your neck. His teeth drag over your pulse points, a chuckle rumbling in his throat as your back arches, chest pressing impossibly further into his own.  

“You’ll be the death of me, y’know that?” Hiromi murmurs against you, his hands roaming lower until his palms roughly grope at your ass. A shocked moan falls from your parted lips, eyes momentarily falling shut as you press yourself further into Hiromi.  

One of his hands begins to shift, fingers running over your soaked panties and smirking at the slickness that seeps through the lace. “Well isn’t that something?” 

You sigh, head falling forward so that your forehead grazes the expensive fabric of Hiromi’s suit, desperately whining. Your hips shift, searching for friction against his fingers — friction that he doesn’t grant you.  

“Hiromi please,” you rut your hips against nothing, Hiromi’s fingers had already moved from where they were teasing you. “Fuck.” 

Hiromi smirks, his hands gripping at your hips and steering you to the seat in his office. You gasp, the backs of your legs hitting against the leather seat before you’re sitting down, staring up at Hiromi.  

“What happened? Thought we were bolder than this,” Hiromi comments with a tilt of his head, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, fingers tapping teasingly against your thighs. 

“Fuck…you,” you pant out, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as Hiromi slowly lifts up the skirt that you had decided to surprise him with — a dangerous choice, really.  

“Oh honey,” Hiromi grins like the Cheshire Cat, “you aren’t doin’ any of that.”  

Your chest heaves as you glance down at Hiromi, who had already taken the liberty of tugging your panties to the side, running the tip of his index finger over your folds — collecting your slick on his skin with another smirk.  

He swirls his finger over your clit, just barely touching it and smirking to himself as your head falls back, desperate moans falling from your parted lips.  

“Pretty little thing,” he murmurs, replacing his finger with his tongue. Your hands fly instinctively to his hair, tugging at the roots and biting back a scream as he sucks your clit between his lips. Your fingernails dig into his scalp, scratching at it – that earns you a groan from the man beneath you. The vibration sends a delicious tingle through you, another desperate moan falling from your lips.  

“Hiromi,” you whimper, body jolting forward as his hands lay flat against your thighs, the cool metal of his rings sending shivers through you.  

You can feel his lips turn upward in a smirk against your skin, his tongue stopping and his head pulling back from its place between your thighs. You whine out at the sudden loss of contact, trying desperately to tug him back to you.  

“Oh you’re in no state to be demanding princess,” Hiromi all but purrs, rising from his place and glancing up at you. Your chest heaves in desperate, panting breaths, fingers still tangled in Hiromi’s hair. You don’t dare to tug on the strands, not wanting to face a more unbearable punishment than what you were already being subjected to.  

His hands swiftly lift up your skirt, hands running over the curves of your hips. You shiver, the cool metal of his rings starkly contrasting with the little flames that had already erupted along your legs.  

“Hiromi—“ 

“Shut it,” he purrs into your ear, one hand already undoing the buckle of his belt. You don’t dare to go against his word, not when he was riled up and ready to make sure that you weren’t able to walk come the next morning. “I don’t wanna hear another word outta that disrespectful little mouth.” 

You press your lips together, whining as he rubs himself along your entrance, his tip just barely teasing your clit. You rut your hips against him, desperate for any little bit of friction. Hiromi’s hands shift to your waist, holding it roughly and effectively pausing your movements.  

“C’mon now, thought you were smart enough to follow instructions,” Hiromi teases with a raise of his eyebrow, looking at the desperate expression painted onto your face. God, you looked fucking amazing.  

You open your mouth to retaliate, wanting to be snarky, but Hiromi effectively cuts you off by pushing himself into you. You gasp out a whiny moan, screwing your eyes shut as he bottoms out, then shifting his hips back just enough to pull halfway out before he slams right back into you.  

“Fuck!” you squeal, moaning as Hiromi lifts your legs and folds you into a wonky attempt at a mating press. He groans, then picking up the pace and rutting his hips into you. “H-Hiromi!” 

He grins, reaching a hand down to press two fingers against your clit, circling it quickly. Your pussy flutters around him, which makes his own eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck princess, always takin’ me — so fuckin’ well,” he pants into your neck, biting lightly down onto your pulse point.  

“S-shit! Nghh — Hiromi,” you moan wantonly, not even caring if any of his coworkers happened to be passing by his office. You can feel him so deeply inside of you, his tip nearly kissing your cervix with each thrust of his hips. Your legs are pinned against your shoulders, toes curling as you feel that familiar knot begin to coil in your stomach.  

“There we go princess,” Hiromi murmurs against you, relishing in the sound of his hips slapping against your own. His fingers pick up their pace over your clit, grinning as a choked moan gets caught in your throat. He leans up, pressing his lips to yours and promptly swallowing your moans.  

His hips continue to slap against your own, tightening the coil in the bottom of your stomach. You whimper underneath him, head thrown back and eyes screwed tightly shut as moans of his name fall from your lips like a desperate plea.  

He reaches down, thumb pressing against your clit before moving in quick circles over the bundle of nerves. You gasp out, back arching as your nails bite into his arms — wanting to push him away but at the same time craving the sparks of pleasure that his touch sends through you.  

“Hiromi — fuck, ‘m cumming!” you mewl, lips parting in one last drawn out moan before you feel the coil in your stomach snap. Your pussy flutters over Hiromi’s cock, that which earns you a broken moan from the man hovering above you.  

“Fuck princess,” he murmurs, hands bracing against your hips, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver. He glances up at you, smirking to himself at your fucked out expression and the way that your hair clings to your forehead.  

Hiromi pulls out slowly, grinning to himself as you moan out at the empty feeling he leaves behind. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, adjusting yourself only to groan inaudibly at the slight ache in your legs — a sight that Hiromi has the gall to breathily chuckle at.  

“Y’alright there honey?” Hiromi inquires, resting a hand behind your back and helping you in sitting up. He flashes you an apologetic grin, one that you bite back your own smile at the sight of.  

“M’fine,” you murmur, smiling tiredly at Hiromi. He nods understandingly, looking around his office before his attention returns to you. You chuckle, gesturing with your head towards his suit pocket. He rolls his eyes teasingly at you, then reaching into the previously mentioned pocket and removing a handkerchief.  

“C’mon honey, spread them for me again,” Hiromi urges softly, nudging your knees. You raise an eyebrow playfully at him, a small smirk spreading across your face as you tilt your head.  

“Already ready for round two Mr. Higuruma?”  

Hiromi rolls his eyes at you, dabbing the handkerchief against your now exposed pussy, cleaning off the remnants of your visit to his office. “I would, but Miss Bratty ain’t up for it.” 

You giggle, closing your eyes momentarily as Hiromi leans down to affectionately press his forehead against your own. He pulls back briefly, pecking your forehead.  

“Can we get ramen?” 

Hiromi sighs, hanging his head for a moment before smiling at you. “Alright honey, but don’t blame me if you can’t walk.” 

“Hiromi!” 

This is self-indulgent comfort because hey, guess who just read chapter 236?

Also, consider this my official apology for this post.

This wasn't real.  

"C'mon Satoru, get up," you all but beg, fingers folding uncomfortably into one another as you stare forward. You already know that everyone else is staring at you, watching you, gauging their own reactions based off of what you display.  

He wasn't losing, was he? 

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, continuing to watch as he pushed himself further and further towards a limit that you didn't know if he could bounce back from. The pit in your stomach only grew with each blow that he sustained, it grew with each drop of blood he lost and it grew with each Domain Expansion that he managed to pull off. 

No. He was the strongest, he'd be fine. 

At your side is Yuuji, his hand holding onto yours so tightly that you can feel your bones begin to crack. Even with the slightly uncomfortable sensation, you say nothing – Yuuji needed to feel the comfort of something familiar, and that just so happened to be you.  

And then … silence. 

Satoru Gojo … on the floor … eyes staring blankly up at the sky … blood everywhere.  

"…'toru?" 

You begin to tremble, the shake beginning in your fingers before slowly traveling up your body like a snake, coiling and twisting over your bones and biting into you – its fangs leaving behind a poisonous panic. 

"Satoru--!" 

"Hmm? Wha – what happened?"  

Your eyes shoot open, beads of sweat dripping down your forehead and making your hair cling uncomfortably to your skin. Your body propels itself upward, feet kicking off the blankets that cover you – it was warm, too warm.  

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on?"  

Your head swivels to the side, nearly giving yourself whiplash. There, at your side, is that familiar tuft of snowy-white hair and bright aquamarine eyes that soften at the panicked expression you wear. Satoru. 

You open your mouth to say something, but instead of a coherent sentence, all your body is able to produce is a broken sob. And right on cue, Satoru's arms are locked around you, tugging you to his chest and allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. 

Your nails bite into his back as you sob into him, body trembling with the weight of your cries. Though the feeling of you scratching him was a touch painful, there was nothing that would stop him from comforting you – not when you were this distressed.  

"Hey … hey. Shh, 'm right here," Satoru murmurs into your hair, laying gentle kisses against your hairline as his fingers rub comforting circles into the small of your back. "Shh." 

You feel yourself begin to calm as the familiar tingle of Infinity washes over you, draped over your shoulders like a blanket fresh from the dryer. Its warmth reminds you of the safety that Satoru's arms provide, how he would never let anything happen to you. That you were safe. That he was safe.  

That whatever you saw when your eyes were closed was nothing but a story told by your imagination.  

"Don't leave me 'toru … ever," you mumble into Satoru's shirt, voice breaking to release a small sob. His arms tighten around you, cheek pressing into your hair. He can feel his heart tightening in his chest – mind wrapping around just how small you sounded. How desperate. Frail.  

He sighs, craning his neck and laying his palm against your cheek, lifting your head and guiding your tear-filled gaze to meet his softened one. His lips turn upward in a smile, the pad of his thumb swiping against the tears that roll silently down your cheeks.  

"Hey, there she is," he murmurs warmly, tone dripping with affection and a softness that he could only ever reserve for you. Satoru leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. At the contact, your eyes momentarily shut, as if committing the very feeling of him against you to memory.  

"I'm here. Not goin' anywhere just yet." 

His thumb swipes against your bottom lashes, wiping away those last few tears that cling so desperately to your waterline, wanting to fall but not being brave enough to make the final choice. Satoru smiles again – silently wanting you to do the same.  

Even though your heart still aches and your mind still reminds you of what you had seen … you smile too.  

Because deep down, in that little safe kept in your chest, you know that Satoru wouldn't go down so easily. At the end of the day, just like he had promised you … 

... he would always be on the other side of the front door.  

I love your writing so much!!

Can I request some comfort Sukuna where he finally breaks down the walls around readers heart who has been hurt previously years before…reader made him wonder why they didn’t ever let him see them cry before and that bothered him.

Sypnosis - Love wasn't for everyone, you had long since accepted that fact. But ... were you really okay with being alone?

Warning(s) - None besides mature themes and some foul language.

A/N - Oh my god I loved this request so much. Reader is definitely a little bit too much like me in this one, but it's okay because at least she somewhat fixed her issues!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Love wasn't for everyone. 

That was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had swallowed after so many years of being constantly disappointed. One after the other, it was as if the heavens above were taunting you. Either that, or they were punishing you for some heinous crime. 

Even though you wanted so desperately to experience what everyone else did; stolen glances, random flowers, gentle kisses, passionate sex, late-night dates … you had just come to the conclusion that no matter what you did, it just wasn't for you.  

And you were okay with that. 

Yet, it was annoying to then hear others come to you spewing their bullshit. 

"You just haven't met the one yet!"  "Don't worry, love will come to you when you least expect it." 

"Trust me. The moment that you stop looking for love, it comes to find you." 

"You're quiet," Sukuna says harshly, dropping his finished cigarette onto the ground and snuffing out its orange hue with the toe of his boot. Your head jerks upward, blinking for a moment before you clear your throat – you hadn't meant to fall into a daydream.  

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm okay," you answer quickly, lifting your own half-finished cigarette to your lips and inhaling. You hoped that the smoke would ease your nerves, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.  

Sukuna's eyes roam over your figure, his mind taking notes on your expression and body language. Your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes flickering to look at anything but him, your lips are turned downward in a frown that he somewhat wishes would go away. Your shoulders are stiff, back standing as straight as a line. Your hands are shaking. 

"Tch," he clicks his tongue, turning his body and half-stepping towards you. His fingers close over your wrist, pulling the cigarette away from your lips. "You're a shitty liar." 

Your eyes cast themselves to the ground, embarrassment heating your cheeks. He falters, but he toes out your cigarette anyway, then turning to face forward again – he doesn't want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.  

"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a beat of silence, hanging his arms over the railing of your apartment's balcony. Your eyes flicker to him for a moment, silently admiring the way that the moonlight illuminates his face and the tattoos inked into his skin.  

"Nothing that would interest you." 

Not when it comes to you. Talk to me, he wants to say. But the words fall dead on his tongue. He doesn't turn his head to look at you, only humming in acknowledgement.  

Another beat of silence passes over you and Sukuna. It gets you wondering … did he even like being around you? After all, the only reason why he kept meeting you after work was because he had offered you a ride home. In return, you offered him cigarettes. A fair trade. 

"Interesting or not," he hesitates, biting his tongue, "'s not good when you keep all that stuff in." 

You freeze, hands tightening their hold on the railing as you stare out at the cityscape. Already you can feel tears beginning to gather along your waterline. You try your hardest to swallow them away, but nothing.  

"I-I said it was fine," you manage to choke out, trying to subtly wipe at your eyes. Sukuna notices … he always did.  

He reaches into his pocket for something, then nudging your arm with a handkerchief closed between his fingers. You take it, mumbling a quiet thanks before wiping your eyes with it. "I'm sorry." 

Sukuna doesn't answer, he doesn't have to. It's more of a silent understanding that yes, something is bothering you, but in your own time you would open up to him about it. Maybe it wouldn't be tonight, maybe it wouldn't be tomorrow … but eventually, you would.  

He shrugs in response to your apology. "Nothin' to apologize for." 

Another beat of silence passes over you both, this one more comfortable than the last. Sukuna reaches into his pocket, taking out the cigarettes that you had given him. He opens the box with his thumb, hesitating on taking another one out.  

You eye the box out of the corner of your eye … it was the only reason he even came into your apartment, wasn't it? 

To your shock, he drops the box off of the edge of the balcony, watching it through half-lidded eyes as it falls out of sight. You turn your head to look at him, finding him already staring at you.  

Neither of you say anything.    

One minute turns into two, two into four, four into six.  

"Y'know, I get the whole … wanting to be alone thing," Sukuna says, turning away from you so that he wouldn't have to look at your slightly pained expression. He leans further against the railing, gaze focusing on the blinking lights of a nearby billboard.  

"You can tell yourself all you want that you want to be alone," he finally turns to you, "but do you really want that?" 

You freeze, eyes wide like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Blankly, you stare at him, mind struggling to mull over what he had just asked you.  

Did you really want to be alone? 

"I-" You pause, swallowing the lump that had settled in the center of your throat. "I don't." 

With that, Sukuna swallows all of his pride and tugs you into his arms. You fold into him, nails biting into the back of his leather jacket – the one that reeks of smoke and of must. But at the same time, those two comforting smells remind you that right now, in this moment, you aren't truly alone.  

Do y'all want a part two of this? Or like a series of Sukuna and !Non-Trusting girlfriend?