Hi When I Saw Your High&low Masterlist, I Wanted To Ask A Request How Would Murayama And Cobra Dancer

hi when i saw your high&low masterlist, i wanted to ask a request how would murayama and cobra dancer be with a girlfriend :P

- 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 // 𝙈𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙖𝙢𝙖 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙗𝙧𝙖

( ♡ ) pairing : Murayama Yoshiki x fem!dancer!reader, Hino Junpei " Cobra " x fem!dancer!reader

( ♡ ) warning : fluff with them rough boys ( they're sweethearts )

( ♡ ) : Murayama and Cobra ( separately ) find out their girlfriend is a dancer

( ♡ ) a/n : thanks for requesting <3 and sorry for the late response, I've had some work to do. If there is something wrong with my answer, please tell me and I'll resolve the issue :))

Murayama :

he cached you dancing in the bathroom, after you took a shower and man you got some moves and that put him to think about it.

you peeked at him and he was staring.

he tells you that you move well and you tell him that that's nothing and he should see you at your dance workouts and he was like " what?? "

it took him some good moments to realise you're actually a dancer 🕺🏻💃🏽

he will beg you to teach him some moves ( even tho he can dance pretty well himself )

he's your biggest supporter

100% would talk with Seki and Furuya about how his girlfriend is a dancer

he's just so proud of you.

" I'm telling you, it's gonna be fine [name], it's not like it is your first performance " Murayama caresses your hand with his thumb. Tomorrow at 9:00 a.m you had your biggest performance and you were freaked out.

" Yea… maybe you're right, it's going to be alright " Murayama smiles " I'm gonna be there " he whispers to you " And it doesn't matter if you win or not, I'm always proud of my girl " he assured.

Cobra :

man realised right away you're a dancer, i mean, at first he really thought you were just a good dancer, but he saw the reminder on your phone to go to your dance workouts

he loves to see you dance - if you are a ballerina he would ask you if you could dance for him, he finds ballet relaxing

man supports you 100%, your most dedicated fan, your #1 fan

would come at your performances with the boys and Naomi to support you <3

another proud boyfriend <3

" Dear " Cobra calls for you. You peek at him from your book " Could you- " he didn't even finish his sentence and you already knew what he wanted " Of course ".

He always loved how you moved. It didn't matter what type of dance you would practice, he just loved how you would put heart in how you moved.

You get up and walk over to him " Would you like to dance, mr. Junpei ? " you smile. Cobra takes your hand, smiling to himself.

back to materialist

hi i was wondering if you'll gonna write for crows zero in the future? if you don't know it, i suggest you to watch it's pretty cool !! anyways that's all !! looking forwardto your works in the future >.< i really love your murayama & cobra w/ a dancer reader ♡

hi luv <3 i haven't seen crows zero yet but i plan to watch it. I've seen some people talk about on tik tok about the movies and it seems pretty cool :)) and thank you so much for the nice message, take care of you luv <333

𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣

( ♡ ) pairing : kokushibo x fem!MoonHashira!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe , idk bro, suicide metion , reader kinda suicidal and fucking dumb

( ♡ ) a/n : I DID NOT READ THE KNY MANGA SO IDFK WHAT I AM DOING

An old shrine stands in disrepair, surrounded by a peaceful moat. Under the Sakura tree's gentle light, a bridge links the mainland to this holy site.

In the darkness, a silhouette emerges. With three pairs of eyes, or a total of six, the central pair displays the characters for "Upper Moon" and "One", casting an eerie glow as they gaze down at the pristine water.

"…"

The man seems to detect the entity's existence, yet remains unfazed by its presence.

As you were strolling towards the shrine, you abruptly halted in your path, your eyes widening slightly and your lips parting in astonishment at the sight of Upper Moon One. Your gaze shifted from Upper Moon One to the shrine, and you proceeded to walk towards it.

The Upper Moon One gazes into the water beneath, appearing deep in contemplation. His pale skin reflects the moonlight, creating an otherworldly radiance.

The stillness is tangible, with only the soft ripple of the water and the gentle fluttering of Sakura petals breaking the silence. Suddenly, the man breaks the quietude by asking, "Are you lost…or maybe, here to face me in a challenge?"

You swiveled your head to face the demon , you eyes looking over his figure " I'm here for the shrine . " You said as you turned to face the remnants of what had once been a beautiful place, you spoke " I am not to stir things up "

His eyes narrow as you speaks, seemingly surprised by your non-confrontational attitude. His gaze sweeps over your form, analyzing every detail. He studies the way you moves, the way you speak , the calmness of your demeanor . Then, a small chuckle escapes his lips, a sound that seems to come from the depth of his chest. He takes a few steps towards you "You're a Hashira, correct?"

You purred in approval, remaining perfectly still , your gaze sweeping over the remnants of the shrine . The moon's gentle glow illuminating the sacred grounds.

Kokushibo remains captivated by your presence as you gracefully survey the remnants of destruction. His gaze remains transfixed on the ethereal luminescence that delicately dances upon your serene countenance. A flicker of intrigue flickers within his eyes, for this Hashira, with her tranquil disposition and absence of hostility, defies his expectations "A Hashira who does not yearn for battle? How remarkably extraordinary you are."

You emitted a soft chuckle and gracefully turned your head to gaze upon the demon standing before you. "An Upper Moon that has no desire to devour me? How peculiarly extraordinary you are," you remarked, your voice laced with a hint of admiration. With a gentle smile, you then shifted your gaze upwards, allowing the moon's ethereal glow to envelop you, cherishing its celestial beauty. Kokushibo's expression remains stoic, but there is a flicker of amusement in his eyes. He had to admit, your retort was unexpected and somehow intriguing to him. "Touché." His gaze follows yours as it drifts towards the moon overhead. A brief moment of silence passes between you, filled only by the soft sound of the wind and the crickets in the grass. "You seem to cherish the moon, just as much as I do."

You crooned melodiously, your eyes never leaving the moon. The wind danced through your hair with a delicate touch. "Being the Moon Hashira, the moon holds the utmost value to me," you crooned, your hands playing with your haori.

Kokushibo scrutinizes you closely, his eyes focused on the way you gracefully fiddle with the hem of your haori, the material flowing smoothly under your caress. A glint of curiosity shimmers in his gaze, as he encounters a human unlike any other. One who regards him not with fear or malice, but with a gentle sense of peace. "A Moon Hashira? That clarifies the lack of aggression," he chuckles softly, his voice resonating with a low, melodic tone.

As you gazed upon the demon before you, your eyes shimmered with curiosity. A sharp intake of breath, you observed the intricate details of his katana. Your gaze then drifted towards his elegant haori, a silent acknowledgment of his presence. Yet, an innate intuition stirred within you, resonating with a sense of familiarity. With a composed demeanor, you uttered the words, "You're also using the Moon Breathing technique, aren't you ?"

Kokushibo raised a eyebrow as he heard your words. You were observant and sharp, he could give you that "Impressive." His voice is tinged with approval as he speaks, his gaze still fixed on you. The way you had figured out his breathing style so quickly was intriguing to him.

"Tell me, what is your name? I don't believe we've been formally introduced." The man's unwavering gaze remains fixated on you, curiosity evident in your eyes. As he asked you this question, he shifted his weight slightly, the movement causing the fabric of his kimono to ripple gently in the night air.

With a graceful demeanor, you gazed up at the demon before you, a faint smile playing on your lips as a soft chuckle slipped past them. "I am [name] [last name]," you purred, your voice smooth and confident as you met the demon's gaze with unwavering determination. " the Moon Hashira."

Kokushibo's eyebrows raise slightly in surprise upon hearing your name. The name "[last name]" seems familiar to him, but he cannot quite place it. His eyes dart to your face again, studying your features once more "[last name]…"

He repeats the last name slowly, the sound of the word rolling off his tongue. He pauses for a moment, the cogs in his mind turning as he tries to recall something "I don't recall an [last name] Hashira in the past records."

With a gentle smile, you gazed at the demons and let out a soft chuckle, "I am the inaugural Hashira in my lineage." Your laughter filled the night air as you lifted your eyes to the moon, feeling the cool breeze tousle your hair. Your gaze shifted from Kokushibo to the moon, and you inquired, "What is your name?"

Kokushibo watches as you laughs softly, the sound of your giggle catching him off guard. It's been a very long time since anyone had laughed like that in his presence, with such carefree ease. As you turns your gaze back to the moon, he watches the way the night breeze plays with your hair, the strands shifting gently in the soft wind.

"My name... it's Kokushibo." He responds, his voice a low rumble in the silence of the night.

tip me <3

small problem

( ♡ ) pairing : Geto Suguru x fem!girlfriend!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, geto is 17/18 and reader is 15/16 , sex , explicit content , mention of pregnancy , smoking , age gap , idk bro

( ♡ ) a/n ✏️ : this is literally my experience and I just made it a Geto x reader 😭😭

Thursday had arrived, and you were spending the night at the residence of your boyfriend, Geto Suguru , just like every Thursday.

Suguru was missing by almost midnight. He had left with Satoru around 10 pm to inspect his car, but got caught in the rain and didn't come back. Instead, he went to Satoru’s place. At 11, you joined your cousin and his friends in their car. When you told Suguru about it, he got envious and demanded that you return home or he would stay at Satoru’s for the night, leaving you by yourself.

You were now wearing blue shorts with side slits and a white tank top. After taking a puff of your cigarette, you exhaled deeply just as you heard loud knocks on the door. After changing, you were dressed in blue shorts with side slits and a white tank top. As you took a drag of your cigarette, you released a sigh right before hearing loud knocks on the door.

Knowing full well that it was Suguru, a smile involuntarily graced your lips. As you unlocked the door, there he stood, shirtless, with his t-shirt casually slung over his shoulder. You released a sigh and returned to the sofa, taking a drag from your cigarette while snacking on some chips. Your frustration with Satoru and his behavior still lingered “ why aren’t you wearing a shirt ? “ you asked while taking another puff from your cigarette. Your attention was focused on Suguru as he proceeded to change into fresh attire “ ‘cause it’s wet “ He grumbled, as he was clad in nothing but a pair of shorts.

After snuffing out your cigarette in the ashtray, you heaved a sigh and settled into bed beside Satoru, his distress evident. He was lying on his back, with his arm covering his eyes. You placed your arms on each side of him as you moved closer. You inquired, " kiss?" and gently closed your eyes while delicately touching your lips to his. Once more, you softly uttered, "Kiss," and proceeded to place several kisses on his lips. Satoru grinned and chuckled, tenderly cradling your face as he reciprocated the kisses.

He proceeded to gently guide you onto your back, his hand tenderly supporting your cheek while he maintained the kiss. Suguru expressed his frustration by stating, "You are a pain in the ass ," before giving you one more kiss and rising from the bed. He retrieved his own pack of cigarettes, lit one, and settled into an armchair to continue smoking while browsing on his phone. As you observed Suguru, you continued eating your chips. Feeling neglected by your boyfriend, you let out a sigh and turned your back to him , your attention on your phone now.

As time elapses, you perceive Suguru extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray before joining you in bed. He reclines on his arm, reaching out to grasp your waist effortlessly, and gently rotates you. With both arms positioned on either side of your head, he leans down and bestows a kiss upon you. Following a brief moment of kissing, he rises and wipes his mouth gently, softly uttering a "come here" as he settles on the bed, leaning against the headboard, inviting you to sit on his lap.

Suguru’s grip tightened around your waist, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, feeling the softness of your flesh and the hardness of her nipples. You gasped, your eyes fluttering shut, and arched your back, pushing yourself into his touch. His mouth found yours, a fiery kiss that claimed you with an urgency that had been building for hours. Your tongues danced together, a dance as old as time, a promise of what was to come. His hand traveled down your body, finding the waistband of your shorts and panties, and with a swift motion, he slid them down your legs.

Your clothes fell away like leaves in an autumn breeze, leaving them bare and vulnerable. Suguru’s eyes took in the sight of you, the curves that he knew so well, the dips and valleys that made you uniquely you. He felt his body respond, his arousal growing with every passing second. He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, the foil packet glinting in the low light. With trembling hands, he ripped it open and rolled it onto himself, feeling the barrier between them, a necessary precaution that somehow heightened the anticipation.

You straddled him, your legs wrapping around his waist, and you guided him inside yourself . You moved in perfect rhythm, your bodies melding together as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that had finally found their place. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure building like a crescendo in a symphony. Suguru’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each more intense than the last. But there was one that stood out, a niggling concern that grew with every thrust—the condom felt different, looser somehow, but he didn’t mind and continued. He kissed you hungrily, and with a soft grip on your waist he flipped you over.

He positioned himself over you, his eyes never leaving your. Then, with a deep, almost primal growl, he entered you again. You gasped, your nails digging into his back. You moved in sync, your bodies speaking a language that transcended words. The sound of your skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by your gasps and moans. The intensity grew, a crescendo of passion that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. He could feel your tightening around him, your body building towards release. With a final, desperate thrust, you shuddered, you climax washing over you like a wave. He followed, his own release a white-hot explosion that left him breathless and trembling. They lay there, panting and entwined, basking in the afterglow of their shared ecstasy. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that moment, all that mattered was the warmth of your embrace and the sound of your beating hearts.

Your kisses grew slower, more languid, as you savored the taste of each other. And then it happened. As he pulled out he froze . The condom was no longer on his dick.

“ Uh, baby , we have a small problem “ He said , trying to sound calm , but you could see in his eyes that he was panicking internally.

“ I think my condom slipped off in you.”

You froze, the sound of your racing heart from the previous sex abruptly silenced by the cold hand of reality. The room grew colder, the shadows darker, as the weight of your mistake settled upon you. The air was thick with tension, the unspoken question hanging between you like an invisible wall. What would come next? How would you deal with the potential consequences of this unplanned intimacy? The moment stretched on, a silent scream that echoed through the room.

He felt your breathing even out, your body relaxing slightly. You looked up at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

“It’s not your fault,” he assured you, his voice firm. “We’ll deal with this together, okay?”

He commenced the quest for the missing condom beneath the sheets, hoping against hope that it would be somewhere on the bed, untouched. Alas, the elusive condom was nowhere to be found.

He was a doomed man.

You gazed at him and elegantly ran your hand through your hair, "I will go to the bathroom and… check if the condom is in me," you mumbled before getting off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. Suguru heaved a heavy sigh and disheveled his hair as he rose and strolled toward the window, where he lit a cigarette.

You entered the bathroom and delicately inserted two fingers inside you, carefully searching for the condom. Suddenly, you felt it - your heart sank. After retrieving it, you discovered Suguru's semen inside the condom and on your fingers as well. You released a weary sigh, discarding the condom in the trash and proceeded to wash your hands , small tears in your eyes , but you never let them out. As you reentered the room, you walked over to Saguru who was leaning against the window. You mimicked his stance, taking out a cigarette and lighting it, inhaling deeply. The two of you sat in silence, smoking, until you finally broke the quiet with a question, "What are we going to do?" Your voice was soft but resolute. "I'll have a chat with Satoru to get some money by morning, and then we'll figure out a plan B for you," he replied, exhaling smoke as he placed a hand on your lower back. "Everything will be okay, my love. We'll sort this out," he assured you, planting a comforting kiss on your forehead and gently rubbing your back.

Hiiii i love your basketball au w/ sukuna sm!

Would you be ok with writting about reader and sukuna with him regretting letting you walk away after the last fight? With them actually getting together?

Ty for your time friend! 💖🌸

Not the time to think about it pt.II

( ♡ ) pairing : Basketball player!Sukuna Ryomen x fem!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, kinda sad, age gap , idk bro , angst to fluff (??)

( ♡ ) a/n : hi my love 💞 Thank you for your request 🤗 I love the idea of them actually getting together but of course I’ll make it a bit of angst 😋

Aftermath

You threw yourself into your studies, trying to drown in your textbooks, hoping that if you just worked hard enough, if you buried yourself deep enough in the endless pages of research and lectures, you could forget him.

But it never worked.

No matter how many nights you stayed up until dawn, staring blankly at words that blurred together on the the pages of your books, Sukuna was always there — lingering in the back of your mind like a ghost.

The pain clung to you like a shadow. It wasn’t the sharp, immediate sting you felt when you had first confronted him, when his silence had confirmed your worst fear. No, this pain was quieter, more insidious. It seeped into every part of you, weighing down your chest until it was hard to breathe, until even the simplest things — like hearing his name on TV or passing by the court where he practiced — felt like a knife slowly twisting in your heart.

Every time you saw him, even from afar, it was like tearing open a wound that refused to heal. You would catch glimpses of him on campus, surrounded by his usual crowd, his laughter echoing through the air. And every time, you had to fight the urge to cry. Because to the world, he was still the same Sukuna —charming, carefree, untouchable. But to you? To you, he was the man who had made you believe in something more, only to shatter it.

It felt cruel, how life continued as if nothing had changed, as if your world hadn’t crumbled the night you walked away. You tried to hate him, tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t worth this heartache. But no matter how much you tried to forget him, to erase the memory of his touch, his smile, his whispered promises, you couldn’t.

Nights were the hardest. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence pressing down on you — it was in those quiet moments that the loneliness hit the hardest. You found yourself remembering the way his arms had felt around you, how you had felt safe, warm, loved, even if only for a fleeting moment. And now, all of that was gone, like smoke slipping through your fingers.

You would dream about him sometimes. In your dreams, things were different. He hadn’t hurt you, hadn’t broken your heart. In your dreams, he still loved you, and everything was as it should have been. But then you would wake up, and the cold reality would settle over you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The man you had loved — the man you still loved —wasn’t coming back.

It was a cruel irony, really. The more you tried to move on, the more you felt trapped in the memory of what you had lost. You wanted to be angry, to scream, to let it all out. But instead, you simply existed, numb to everything except the quiet ache in your chest that reminded you, day after day, that he was gone, and you were left alone to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

And the worst part ? The worst part was knowing that you had loved him so deeply, with everything you had, only to realize it hadn’t been enough. That no matter how hard you tried to be what he needed, in the end, you couldn’t save him from himself.

For Sukuna, life continued as it always had. He went through the motions — attending practices, playing games, flashing that same arrogant smile for the cameras, surrounded by the fans and women who once made him feel untouchable. But now, none of it mattered. It all felt hollow, meaningless without you. The noise of the crowds became a distant hum, the adrenaline of winning a game nothing but a fleeting distraction from the aching void that had taken root in his chest.

At first, he had tried to shake it off, convincing himself that he didn’t need you — that he could keep living the way he always had, unattached and carefree. But it didn’t take long for the weight of his guilt and regret to settle in, pressing down on him like an unrelenting force. Everywhere he turned, he saw you. In the empty spot on the couch where you used to sit during his late-night practices, in the way the sunlight streamed into his apartment in the mornings, reminding him of the quiet moments you’d shared, tangled up in each other.

Every day, he replayed that night in his mind, the night you had looked at him with such raw vulnerability and asked the question that tore everything apart. "Did you cheat on me?" The silence that had followed felt like a lifetime, and now, every time he thought back to it, he wished more than anything that he had said something — anything. That he had fought for you, begged for your forgiveness, told you he was sorry.

But he hadn’t. He had just stood there, frozen, letting the best thing that had ever happened to him slip through his fingers.

In the days that followed, Sukuna tried to fill the void with the same distractions he always had. He surrounded himself with people, went out to parties, flirted with women who threw themselves at him. But nothing felt the same. The momentary highs only left him feeling more empty, more alone. He found himself searching for you in every crowd, his eyes scanning for that familiar warmth, that quiet presence that had once brought him a sense of peace he didn’t even know he was missing.

The nights were the worst. When the world quieted down, and there was no game, no crowd to drown out the silence, Sukuna would lie awake, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts would spiral, the regret clawing at him with every passing minute. He would think about all the moments he had taken for granted — the way you’d laugh softly when he teased you, the way you’d always ask him about his day, genuinely caring about the answers. He remembered how your fingers had felt in his hair, how you’d look at him with such tenderness, a tenderness he had never deserved.

He missed you more than he thought possible. It was an ache that wouldn’t go away, a constant reminder that he had ruined the one thing that had ever felt real in his life. And the worst part? He knew it was his fault. He had pushed you away, hurt you in ways he could never take back. He had let his pride, his reckless need for control, blind him to what really mattered. And now, you were gone, living your life without him.

Sukuna had always prided himself on being strong, untouchable. But without you, he felt weak, fragile in a way he had never known. He tried to tell himself that he could move on, that this was just another fleeting chapter in his life. But no matter how much he tried, the truth was undeniable.

He had loved you.

He had loved you deeply, more than he had ever been able to admit, even to himself. And now, it was too late.

In the quiet of his apartment, when the world had long since fallen asleep, Sukuna would sit in the dark, his hands trembling as he thought of you. He wondered if you were happier without him, if you had moved on. The thought tore at him, a bitter mix of jealousy and sorrow. He wondered if you ever thought of him, if you missed him the way he missed you. But he knew, deep down, that you deserved better —someone who could give you the love and respect he had failed to provide.

And that realization was the most painful of all. Because Sukuna Ryomen, the man who had always been in control, who had always lived life on his terms, had lost the one person who had ever truly mattered. And now, no matter how much he regretted it, there was nothing he could do to change that.

The guilt, the regret — it consumed him. It followed him every second of every day, a constant reminder of what he had lost. And no matter how many games he won, how many women threw themselves at him, it was never enough to fill the void you had left behind.

He had always loved you — deep down, in ways he could never put into words. But Sukuna had been too blind to see it, too arrogant to admit it, and far too terrified to confront the feelings that stirred in the depths of his heart. Love had always been something distant, fleeting, a game he thought he could play and leave behind. Until you came along.

But now… now it was too late. Or was it?

The ache of your absence gnawed at him constantly, a slow, suffocating weight that only grew heavier with time. Days turned into weeks, then months, and still, you haunted his every thought. The memory of your smile — soft and real in a way nothing else in his world was — burned behind his eyes when he tried to sleep. The warmth of your voice, the way you’d say his name with that tenderness he didn’t deserve, echoed in the quiet corners of his mind, filling every silence with your absence.

For the first time in his life, Sukuna felt utterly lost. It wasn’t the fame or the women or the adrenaline of the game that he craved anymore. It was you. Just you.

He remembered the night you left—the look on your face, the pain in your eyes, how you had tried so hard to hold back the tears as you walked away from him. And he had let you. He had stood there, watching you leave, unable to say the one thing that might have kept you with him.

“I love you.”

Those words had been trapped inside him, buried beneath his pride, beneath the layers of fear and self-doubt. And by the time he realized the truth, you were already gone.

Now, every moment without you was an unbearable reminder of what he had lost. He’d see you in the smallest of things — the scent of your perfume lingering in the jacket you once borrowed, a song on the radio that had played during one of your late-night drives. And each time, the regret hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless, wishing he could turn back time, undo the hurt he caused.

But the most painful realization of all? He knew you had loved him too. You had given him your heart on a silver plate, placed your trust in him, and he had shattered it. He had taken you for granted, thinking you’d always be there, always waiting. But you weren’t. You couldn’t.

Sukuna thought about calling you every day. His finger would hover over your name in his phone, his heart pounding in his chest as he wrestled with the fear that maybe it was too late — that maybe you had moved on, that you were happier without him. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, didn’t deserve another chance. But he also couldn’t live with the idea of never trying.

The Last Chance

One night, after yet another game that left him feeling emptier than ever, Sukuna found himself standing outside your apartment building. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his breath clouding in the cold night air as he stared up at the window where he knew your light used to shine. Everything in him screamed to turn around, to leave before he made things worse. But he couldn’t. Not this time.

He knocked on your door, his heart hammering so loud he could hear it in his ears. When you opened it, he was struck by how much he had missed you — how seeing your face, even for a moment, sent a shock of warmth through the ice that had settled over his heart.

You stood there, staring at him in disbelief, your expression guarded, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes. Hurt, yes. But also the smallest glimmer of hope.

“I know I don’t deserve to be here,” Sukuna said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, raw. “I know I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But there’s something I need to tell you, and if you still never want to see me again after this, I’ll walk away for good.”

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t close the door either. So he continued, the words he should have spoken months ago tumbling out all at once.

“I was a coward,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I thought I could run from what I felt, that I could keep pretending I didn’t need anyone. But I was wrong. I need you. I love you. I’ve always loved you, but I was too scared to admit it, even to myself. And now, I’m standing here, asking — no, begging— for one more chance. Because losing you… it’s the only thing that’s ever made me realize what love really is.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and for a moment, Sukuna thought he had broken you all over again. His chest tightened with fear, and he was ready to turn away, to walk out of your life for good. But then, you spoke, your voice trembling but soft.

“Why now, Sukuna ? Why did it take losing me for you to see ?”

He swallowed hard, his throat burning as he fought to keep his composure. “Because I didn’t know what I had until it was gone. I was selfish, and I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking you for another chance. Let me prove that I can be the man you deserve.”

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. And then, slowly, you stepped aside, letting the door open just a little wider. Your eyes met his, filled with pain but also a spark of something that hadn’t completely faded.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you whispered.

And in that moment, Sukuna knew he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let you slip away again. He’d hold onto you with everything he had because now he understood — losing you had been the beginning of the end. But maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something new. Something real. Something that could last.

It wasn’t too late after all.

Allure of the forbidden.

( ♡ ) pairing : teacher!hiromi higuruma x fem!student!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, hiromi is like 36 and reader is around 20, reader is a law college student, sex , explicit content, age gap , idk bro

( ♡ ) a/n : I’m posting almost all my drafts but okay 😭

You ambled through the quiet library aisles, the soft click of your heels echoing against the towering bookshelves. Your eyes danced over the spines, seeking a title that could offer a brief reprieve from her mundane afternoon. A gentle summer breeze whispered through the open windows, carrying with it the distant sound of children's laughter from the park outside. At the far end of the room, the setting sun painted the dust motes a fiery orange, casting a warm glow that seemed to embrace the solitude of the study space.

Your fingertips traced the spines of the books, feeling the coarse textures of aged leather and the smoothness of the newer ones. Your mind drifted to the coolness of the pages you had yet to turn. An unexpected aroma of fresh ink and paper filled your nostrils, hinting at a recent addition to the library's collection.

Your gaze fell upon a book titled "The Unyielding Pursuit of Justice," and you pulled it out with a gentle tug. The author was none other than the infamous Hiromi Higuruma, your law teacher who had recently taken the town by storm with his unorthodox methods and unyielding dedication to his cases. You had heard whispers of his sharp wit and piercing gaze that could make even the most stoic of souls squirm.

As you leafed through the pages, a folded note slipped out. It was a page torn from a legal pad, scribbled with hasty handwriting. The words "Meet me at the courthouse, tonight. Room 303." and a signature - HH - were the only contents. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the initials of your teacher. Intrigued and a little apprehensive, you glanced around the library, but the only company you had were the silent tomes that surrounded you.

The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, and the thought of the note grew heavier in your pocket. You knew that going to the courthouse was risky, especially after hours, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that it was important. After all, you had always admired Mr. Higuruma's passion for justice, and the idea of learning from him outside the confines of the classroom was too tempting to resist.

Nightfall approached, and the library grew dimmer. You gathered your things and tucked the mysterious note safely into your bag. The echo of the closing doors seemed to amplify the thrill of what might await you. The walk to the courthouse was filled with a mix of excitement and anxiety. The cobblestone streets were cool against your bare legs as you hurried past the shadowy alleyways, the sound of your heels growing fainter as the distance grew.

When you arrived, the grand building loomed before you, a silent sentinel of the law. The courthouse was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the occasional distant footsteps and the hum of the security lights. You took a deep breath and made your way to Room 303, your hand shaking slightly as you pushed the door open. Inside, you found Mr. Higuruma, his eyes lighting up with an unusual intensity when he saw you. The room was cluttered with case files and legal documents, but there was something else in the air - something electric, something you hadn't felt in his presence before.

" [name]," he said, his voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate within the confined space. "You came."

"I… I found your note," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You held the page out to him, your hand trembling.

He took it from you, his fingers brushing against yours, and you felt a jolt of energy. He read the note, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he stepped closer to you, his gaze never leaving yours. " [name], I need your help with something. It's not what you might expect."

Your heart raced. "Anything, Mr. Higuruma. I want to learn from you."

His eyes searched yours for a moment before he spoke again, his voice softer. "I've noticed how much you care about justice, about understanding the complexities of the law. But there are aspects that can't be taught in a classroom." He paused, his eyes dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes. "I need someone… I need you to help me understand something very personal, something that could affect a case I'm working on."

You nodded, your curiosity piqued. "How can I help?"

He stepped closer, closing the space between you. His hand found its way to the small of your back, and you could feel the heat of his palm through your thin blouse. "I need to experience… a particular situation, to better defend my client." His voice was a caress in the quiet room. "Would you be willing to assist me?"

Your breath hitched. "What situation?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

"The situation," he said, leaning in, "of a man and a woman, in a moment of passion."

The room seemed to close in around them, the air thick with unspoken intentions. He was so close that you could feel his breath on your neck, smell the faint scent of his cologne. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of what he truly wanted.

His hand moved to the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. "I know this is unorthodox," he murmured, "but I believe that by experiencing it ourselves, we can gain a deeper understanding."

Your thoughts swirled like a tornado. You knew this was wrong, that there were lines that shouldn't be crossed, but you also knew that Mr. Higuruma was a man of integrity, a man who never did anything without a reason. And you wanted to help.

"Alright," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do it."

With that, he closed the distance between them, and his lips met hers. The kiss was unexpectedly tender, filled with a hunger that you hadn't anticipated. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the softness of your mouth. Your arms wound around his waist, pulling him closer, as the reality of what you were doing set in.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heady mix of fear and excitement. You moved together, almost in slow motion, his hand sliding down your back to rest on your hip. He broke the kiss and whispered against your lips, "Thank you for trusting me."

The next moments were a blur of sensation: the soft rustle of fabric as clothes were removed, the warmth of his skin against yours, the feel of his hands exploring every curve and line of your body. You fell onto the couch in the corner of the room, a mess of legal papers scattered around you . The leather was cool against your back, but you barely noticed as his mouth moved to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made you shiver.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you gave yourself over to the moment, the line between student and teacher, justice and passion, blurring into oblivion. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, the thud of it matching your own erratic rhythm. The air was thick with anticipation, the scent of your desire mingling with the dust of the old books.

" [name]," he murmured, his voice a soft command. "Look at me."

Your eyes opened, and you met his gaze, the intensity of it making your pulse race. His eyes searched yours, seeking confirmation, and you nodded, unable to form words. His hand trailed down your body, his fingertips tracing the swell of your breast, sending waves of pleasure through you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "I've wanted this for so long."

The words sent a thrill through you, and you reached up to kiss him again, your hands tangling in his hair. His touch grew more urgent, his kisses deeper, and you could feel the heat building between your legs. You arched into him, your body begging for more.

"Tell me what you want," he breathed against your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"You," you said, the word a desperate plea. "I want all of you."

He took that as his cue, his hand moving down to slip under the fabric of your panties, finding you wet and ready. His touch was gentle at first, exploring, and then more insistent as you moaned into his mouth. You felt his arousal pressing against your thigh, and you reached down to touch him, your hand trembling.

Your kisses grew more frantic as you touched each other, your breaths mingling in a symphony of passion. His hand moved between your legs, and you gasped as he slipped a finger inside you, stroking you in a way that made your body tighten around him.

"Hiromi," you whispered, breaking away from the kiss to catch your breath. "Please."

He positioned himself above you, his eyes never leaving yours. With one swift movement, he entered you, filling you completely. You both froze, the intensity of the moment suspending you in time.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "More," you begged.

And so he gave it to you, moving in a slow, rhythmic dance that had you both gasping for air. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge.

"[name]," he groaned, his movements becoming more urgent. "I'm so close."

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and you met his thrusts with your own, urging him on. You both reached the peak together, your cries of pleasure echoing through the deserted room, mixing with the sound of the pages fluttering in the gentle breeze from the open window.

As you lay entwined on the couch, your hearts racing, the silence of the courthouse seemed to swallow you up. But in that moment, it was just the two of you, your bodies speaking a language that transcended the bounds of propriety and the law. The line between right and wrong blurred as you clung to each other, lost in the throes of your newfound understanding of justice and passion.

The aftermath of your union was a tapestry of emotions: guilt, exhilaration, and confusion. Yet, as you dressed and collected yourselves, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had just experienced something profound, something that would forever change your perspective on the world of law and the complex dance of human relationships.

And as you both stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of distant sirens a stark reminder of the world outside your cocoon, you knew that this was just the beginning of a journey you had never anticipated taking. The note in your pocket was a silent testament to the power of curiosity and the allure of the forbidden.

Your eyes met, and you saw a flicker of something in his gaze that you had never seen before. It was a look of hunger, of a man who had tasted a secret that could never be fully satisfied. And for a brief moment, you wondered if you had just become part of a case that was far more personal than any you had ever studied in the pages of your books.