Jjk X Reader Angst - Tumblr Posts

3 years ago

đ˜Ș𝘯 đ˜­đ˜°đ˜·đ˜Š, đ˜Ș 𝘧𝘱𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘮 đ˜șđ˜°đ˜¶đ˜ł đ˜·đ˜Șđ˜€đ˜”đ˜Ș𝘼 - (sukuna x reader angst)

lover of mine, i never said those words as clear as i meant to. thank you for your smiles, for your heart. let me remember your last face like a loving one, and not of you in death.

summary: you see him a handful of times down by the river, washing off the bloodstains from his clothing and hands. you wonder to yourself how he could look so human in such a monstrous act. once he see's you he can't get you rid of his mind.

paring: sukuna x f!reader

genre: angst, soft love, little fluff

warnings: blood, gruesome death, talks of sex and taking virginity

word count: 7k+

jjk masterlist

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 , - (sukuna X Reader Angst)

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"Do you intend on staring the entire time?"

The hair on your neck rose, your breath catching in your throat as you hear him call out.

Surely he couldn't have seen you. You had tried to hide decently well into the background of the forest.

"Your act of concealment is rather pitiful, you know." His voice disparaged you once more, and from the sliver of opening the bushes allowed you saw him look over his shoulder, staring directly at you as he raised an eyebrow.

"Come out, human." You for the first time you hear the real command in his voice, the one that terrified the men in your village, the ones who came back from battle and laid awake at night with it echoing in the solitude of their minds.

You gave it a couple seconds, and when you saw him vanish from the spot he had been near the river bank you panicked, looking around everywhere to see where he had gone.

You felt a rush of air wisp behind you, and you whipped your head around to see a large hand circle around your throat, long, claw-like nails digging into your skin as he effortlessly raised you from the ground.

You felt the voice in your head mock you for your stupidity, the idea alone of spying on the curse everybody feared an idiotic idea. But you were curious, too curious for your own good, and the first time you saw him you were fascinated.

Here he seemed like the monster everybody made him out to be. Blood from his previous victims splattered across his face, red eyes boring into yours as he assessed the person in front of him, large muscles flexing as he turned you around, gawking at you like an animal in a cage.

But the first time you saw him, he drew you in, and perhaps that would be the sole reason for your demise. The sun shone shined splendidly that day, reflecting off the water beneath him, his skin shining bright as he delicately cleaned his dirtied clothes in peace.

You hadn't meant to run into him that day, but you couldn't rest seeing him act so human, so normally, after every rumor, you had heard.

You now wish you had listened to them.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" He cocked his head to the side, eyebrow perched as you meekly grabbed at his hand, begging him to loosen his grip.

His eyes trailed down to your gaping mouth, eyes widening with the lack of air, and his grip loosed, dropping you roughly to the ground, giving you a couple of seconds to failingly come up on your arms, coughing as you rubbed weakly at your neck, trying to ease to soreness away.

He dropped down to his knees, crouching down at your side as he waited for you to recover, in no rush as you hacked away.

"I asked you a question," He reminded you and you fearfully looked up, eyes filled with tears as you weakly nodded, your chapped lips trembling in dread.

"Is that a yes?" His lips upturned in a small and taunting smile, his sharpened teeth gleaming back at you as you gulped, clearing your throat as you tried your best to respond.

"Yes, yes," You looked at the grass beneath you, anything but the figure of death in front of you, "I have been here before, my lord."

He kept his eyes locked on yours, his look never shifting from one to the other, keeping natural as if to frighten you even more.

Would anybody care if you had been killed out in the woods today? Would anybody come looking if you went missing?

"Is it you who's been watching me these past weeks?" He asked, and even on the ground sitting in front of you he shadowed your crumpled form, and you wiped some of the slobber from your lips before you spoke again.

"I apologize, my lord." Your fingers shook far too much, could he tell? Could he see that your blood was freezing under your skin?

"May I ask what's intrigued you so much to return?" You feel this breath on your cheeks, his nose close to yours as he leaned in, the air in your lungs seizing as you held it all to yourself.

Your fingers itched to grab the small bundle you had brought with you, the one you had failed to give these past weeks.

He watched the movement, his eyes quickly darting over to the small package concealed in a piece of dirtied cloth.

"Is this yours?" He reached over and grabbed it, examining its shabby shape as you meekly nodded once more, your mouth too dry to give him a proper response.

He glanced back over to you, truly studying you. Your clothes were dirty, mud and dirt clinging to your skin, holes littering the soles of your shoes. Your hair was clumped together and nails were outgrown from their beds.

He had been familiarized with the nearby village, having ransacked it multiple times. He knew the women well, their appearances were far more important than anything else. If you were from there it was obvious you were one of their outcasts, if the skin clinging to your bones would say anything.

He kept an eye on you as you coughed again, blood specking the palm of your hand as you wiped it on your pants, embarrassed and more honestly terrified to look at him, opting to gape at the ground.

He turned the lump of fabric around in his hand, weighing it and sniffing it as if to sense what was inside. A foul smell flew under his nose, and he winced as he quickly went to open it, his inquisitiveness taking over.

The fabric was flimsy and wasn't tied hard enough, falling away as he peeled it back.

Small tomatoes and pieces of lettuce tumbled out, some parts of them molded as they fell to his feet.

"I apologize, my lord, they are not of the best quality." You explained and he scoffed, taking the small vegetables and squishing it between his fingers, turning back to you as he took you by the collar, lifting it up so that you would be face to face with him.

"Were those for me?" His head tilted again, a small pout overtaking his smile as he watched you struggle to come up with words to say.

"Have you been watching me these past few weeks just to give me rotten vegetables?"

He watched in clear amusement as you sniffled, your eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, hands quivering as you kept them balled by your side.

"Did that really sound like a good idea to you?" His grip on your collar tightened, and you gasp as he lifted you once more, your feet dangling as you tried to get back down.

Sukuna looked at you, the tears welling in your eyes, the tomatoes, and lettuce as his feet looking back up at him as he strangled you, your fingers weakling attempting to grab at his clenching fists.

"I'm s-sorry," You choked out, "It's all I h-had." Some bloodied spit landed on his face and he grimaced, dropping you immediately to wipe it off.

You couldn't muster up a groan as you felt your ankle crack from the pressure, only having enough strength to try to crawl away.

This isn't how you wanted to die, not alone and at the hands of the curse of death himself. Not when you wanted to see the countryside, to sail in those things they called ships. Not on the ground of a forest, you stumbled upon one day, your kind heart killing you eventually.

And all Sukuna did was watch the pitiful scene, eyebrows drawing together as he saw your crumpled form sit at the stump of a tree, your ankle bent the wrong way, your eyes barely open as you went in and out of consciences.

Who were you? Surely not a girl of any importance. He would have already bedded you had you been one. You were poor, perhaps worse than that, yet you managed to bring him portions of your food.

Even in the coldest of winters, he had watched the village chief struggle to give up a third of his meals to honor him, yet an insignificant girl like you who obviously needed the wasted vegetables more than anything was offering it to him.

Should he kill you here? Make it painless? It seemed that your health was already declining, your bloody coughs enough proof for him. He'd be putting you out of your misery if he did it now.

But walking towards you, his nails turned into the claws he was so used to, kneeling down once more to your slumped form, he couldn't seem to do it.

You couldn't even lift your head to beg for your life, but you tried to bring up your fist that paled in size to his, curling it around one of his fingers as you tried to push him away.

And his nails were right there, right at the base of your throat, ready to slit, but he felt the little bit of heat as you sickly gripped him, the little tear droplets wetting his skin as he retracted his hand.

He stared at the top of your head, watching as your hand fell to your side, your body too weak to keep it up anymore.

And he grumbled to himself, saying things such that he wasn't fucking enough people and his mind was going crazy, cupping your knees as he lifted you gently up, supporting your head with the palm of his hand as he brought you back to the village.

He could have killed you even then as he was entering the gates, but you had held onto his shirt so tightly that he could barely lift his finger to do such a thing.

---

You awoke in one of the alleyways, your head lolling to the side as you groaned, your bleary vision not making out many things.

Dim candlelight shone from behind you, and turning around you saw the infamous infirmary of our village, and you stumbled trying to get up, a small and quiet cry falling as you put too much weight on your ankle, gripping the sides of the walls as you tried to steady yourself.

You could barely remember the previous events of the night, but you could barely think as you pushed your way through the door, the two healers jumping in surprise as fell to the floor.

It was a small shack, barely bigger than two rooms, but you had heard many stories of all the wonders that happened inside here. A small whicker of hope ignited in your chest. Maybe they could heal your ankle, maybe even you cough?

One of them tried to help you up but your body fell to the other side, and you heard muffled talking as the two o they spoke in hushed whispers on what to do.

"She's weak, too weak, we can't do much," You made out the woman say, and something else was added but you couldn't catch it. The other one was silent for a minute before he replied.

"Just throw her out. They die anyway. We need the space for the ones who matter." And though you wanted to open your mouth and cry out for their help, that you did matter, at least you did at one point.

But no matter how hard you wanted to, you couldn't do much as they harshly lifted you by the elbows dragging you out and throwing you right back where you were.

You thudded to the ground, your already broken ankle damaged more and you felt tears of pain spring in your eyes. It was night, maybe early in the morning, and the season of fall was coming closer and closer to your village, the crisp air biting at your barley-covered skin.

You shuddered, and it took some time for you to pull yourself up, using the wall as support once more as you traveled up ahead, knowing that your shabby home wouldn't be too far away.

It was a painful journey, but you eventually tumbled into the little shack you made a while back. Three pieces of wooden plans were balanced on each other, a scrawny blanket resembling rags rested on top to protect you from the elements.

You heaved a sigh as you relaxed on the dirt floor, leaning your back gently as you reached into your pocket to grab one of the tomatoes you had saved,

But it came back empty, and you remember that they were littered on that forest floor far from where you were.

And so with an empty stomach and burning bones, you tried your best to nod off to sleep.

---

Months passed by and Sukuna had almost forgotten about the girl in the woods, and he had no intention of remembering her again.

He kept up with his usual routine; taking home men and women from the villages he conquered easily, fighting the pesky sorcerers that came by once in a while, and retreated back to his room once he repeated those things over and over again.

It had been a ruling winter, and even for a curse like him he had to admit the cold was biting and cruel, and he laughed at the thought of how bad it must have been for those humans.

The people who lived and served at his temple all shivered as they made him his food and cleaned the floors, but even they were spared with the walls that surrounded him.

One night, he restlessly wandered around the halls, his bare feet padding on the marble floors as he looked around, glancing out of the windows as the moon stared back restlessly at him.

He went back to his room to retrieve his robs, shrugging them on as he grabbed his sword, saying nothing as he made his way out, hungry for another village to ransack and take for his name.

It didn't take him a while until he found one, but to much dismay, he remembered the oak gates that lead into it, and if he was being honest the people weren't the best when it came to a good fuck.

Though nonetheless, he strolled through, and some of the strangers who were bundled in their own winter clothing shrieked, ducking for cover as he made his way through.

The snow that fell from the sky did nothing to him, but it littered the ground in a stark white, and it crunched under his feet as he made his way to the brothel house he had been familiarized with so long ago.

As he entered the women who had been at the front jumped up, their faces pailing as he towered over them, looking around for a couple of people he intended to bring back to his temple.

He looked for another while, some faces familiar but others not so much as he pointed to them silently, and they knew what it meant as they stepped forward, not looking him in the eye as they feared it would get them killed.

The ordeal didn't last for long, and as he left, the chosen ones took it as a sign to trek behind him, worriedly looking at each other.

He made his way out, some spectators washing wordlessly from their windows as he passed by.

Sukuna paused when he heard hurried footsteps from behind him, and a small body thumped down in front of him, the person on their hands and knees as they shuddered from the winter winds.

"My lord! It is an honor having you here! Please," The village chief shakily looked up, wincing when he saw the curse looking down at him with interest, "I have even better women if you so desire! Men, if you want! These ones are cheap, nothing like the best we offer!" The man knew well that if Sukuna was displeased he could very well take that upon his village, head heard the rumors.

Sukuna looked at the ones he had picked, their fur coats clinging to their skins as they looked down, and then to the large hut the chief lived at.

"Show me them." He ordered, and the little man jumped up, bowing as he lead Sukuna to the destination, leaving the other women stranded as they went in search of others.

It was a quiet walk, and Sukuna preferred that over the mousey man speaking his head off.

They were nearly there when Sukuna saw a flash of color, something that had stuck in his mind no matter how hard he had tried to get rid of it.

He narrowed his eyes, seeing a slumped figure curled at the wall, their legs brought up to their chest as they slept.

He wished deep inside that the person was only asleep, and nothing worse.

He strayed away from the man as he went towards them, crouching down as he sat in front of the person, lifting their chin up with his forefinger as he came in view with a familiar face.

The girl in the woods, the one with the rotten vegetables.

Your cheeks had cuts on them, some fresh, some old. Your ankle, the one he remembered being badly broken, was still at an odd angle, though he recalled clearly that he had dropped you off at the infirmary to get it taken care of.

He ran his thumb across your skin, and to no surprise, you were freezing to the touch. Your shredded clothing doing barely anything to help you from the cold.

He raised two fingers to the pulse point at your neck, and somewhere in him relaxed when he found one.

The fingers that so weakly grabbed your knees were shaking fervently, and he took off his robe as he draped it across your shoulders.

"This one is barely alive, my lord, you can kill her if you wish," The man peeped from the corner and Sukuna had to control himself not to kill him in front of you.

"I promise that the ones I have to show you are much, much better than her!" He chuckled awkwardly as Sukuna sat still, his fingers gingerly gripping your chin as he tried to coax you to wake up.

"One of my men was supposed to get rid of her the past fortnight, it seems that he forgot," He muttered mostly to himself, his nose wrinkling from your stench.

"It's vermin like this that must be rid of!" He said fiercely, almost comically, and Sukuna's hold on your arm tightened as he gently tried to wake you up to no avail.

You were alive, he told himself, you had to be.

"My lord, it must not be comfortable for you in this cold, come and-" He could barely finish his sentence before Sukuna had slit his throat, his body dropping to the floor as he tried to stop the bleeding.

The ground beneath him stained red, but all Sukuna could care about was getting to you, a strange urge overtaking him as he spoke to you in a quiet tone.

"Can you open your eyes?" He whispered, a strange thing for him, but he hoped that it would get you to wake up.

You shivered quietly, your lips and teeth trembling against each other as you slowly shook your head, but that much let him sigh in relief, running his thumb across your cheek as he supported your head in his hand.

"Can you try?" His red eyes focused on the way your bruised eye twitched, but slowly you creaked open your other one, and his chest eased.

"There you go," He coaxed, going on his knees as he carefully picked you up, just as he had done that day, wrapping the robe around you tighter and you shifted into the warmth he offered.

You were so light he feared he'd break you, but you seemed appreciative of the help, curling in his arms as you tried to hide the skin left without any clothing covered with your hands.

Your bones poked out from underneath your skin, and for once in his lifetime Sukuna was terrified of the fact that they would break through.

"Do you remember me?" He asked as he walked out of the village, ignoring the shocked gasps and the murmured voices as they saw you in his arms.

You barely nodded, but you gripped onto the fabric covering his torso, and his gaze softened, shocking him and perhaps the world around.

"What is your name?" He tried to keep his nails away from your fragile skin in fear of cutting you, and he had to lean his head down to hear your faint voice.

"Y-y," You gulped for some air, "Y/n." And Sukuna had never been happier to hear a sound, your voice easing the worries he had of you being dead, and he walked faster towards his temple.

"Do you prefer anything to eat?" He looked at your skeletal body and you tried to shrug, but it was too difficult so you just stayed limp.

"Soup," You attempted to say but you coughed, trying to cover your mouth with your fist, and Sukuna saw the specks of blood that sprayed your skin.

"Soup," he nodded to himself, "Is that all?" He had left the village now and was nearing his temple.

"Yes," You muttered softly, "My teeth," You paused to cough, "They do not work well anymore." Sukuna shifted his hold on your head, his hands tightening their grip on you as he went uphill.

Why did his chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like guilt was eating him alive? What were you doing to him?

When he entered through the double doors an influx of maids came rushing in, ready to prep the men and women he had selected only to be met with a frail girl curled into the massive curses chest.

They looked uncertainly at each other as he moved past them, turning the corner to move through the halls, stopping at his door as he pushed it open.

Inside he saw his two most trusted servants, and they rushed towards him, taking you from his arms as they brought you to the bath.

"Be careful with her," He warned, his tone wavering when he heard you whimper, "Anything and I'll crack your skulls under my feet." The two women fervently nodded, handling you with more care as they lead you to the separate rooms.

Sukuna watched as it all happened.

What was he doing?

---

Once you had been washed through and properly helped by one of his healers, they lead you to the dining hall, and you still had to blink and repeat to yourself what was happening to keep yourself from going insane.

They sat you in a chair, a random hand placing a steaming bowl in front of you as they left you to eat.

You quite frankly had no idea what happened in the past hour, but it had been a while since you had been in the comfort of a home with food in front of you, and so you put it past yourself as you began to bring a shaky hand to grasp the spoon.

Your arms were too weak from weeks of barely any use, and you had brought the spoon close to your mouth only to lose grasp of it and spill it on yourself.

You heard some noise around you, and you slowly glanced around you, the women who helped clean you covering their mouths with their hands as their shoulders shook, soft giggles spilling from their lips as they watched you attempt to eat the soup.

Embarrassment took over your senses, but you found a napkin near your left and patted your robes, trying to get the stains off.

Going to grab the spoon again, you gave yourself a couple of seconds to flex your hand before you brought it up to your lips. You had put it in but the heat of it you were unprepared for, and you spit it out quickly from your mouth before it burnt the rest of your tongue.

The snickering from around you only got louder, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying in humiliation.

You should have blown on it, you told yourself, but it had been so long since you had actually had something warmed up that it must have slipped your mind.

You dabbed the table with the napkin to clean up some of the stains, and the silence around you should have told you that there was a change in atmosphere, but you only realized that when you felt a looming figure behind you.

"Is everything alright?"

His voice you remembered well. It was deep, ominous, but it also calmed you down. For it had been he who saved you from the bitter cold and nobody else.

You quickly dropped to your knees, albeit, slowly from how undernourished you were, kissing his feet as you kept your face hidden.

"My lord," Your hands shook, "Thank you, bless you, thank you, I cannot express my gratitude. I will do anything you ask, I am in your debt forever, my lord..." You rambled on but stopped when you felt a strong force tugging you up by the arm.

"Enough of this," He clicked his tongue as he pushed you back in the chair, and you huffed out a cough when he pulled out the chair diagonal from you, his fingers webbed with each other as he stared at you.

"Aren't you going to eat?" He asked, his eyebrow cocked upwards and you gave him a swift nod, your shaky hands back at trying to grab the spoon, but from the fear of being watched by him, it slipped out of your hold once more and fell in the soup, splattering even more across your clothing.

The soft laughter from the women could be heard, and you looked at them from the corner of your eyes, chest sinking with onslaught discomfiture as the most powerful curse in creation watched you struggle to pick up a spoon.

"I apologize, my lord," Your boney fingers went to clutch it again, and you opted to just close your fist around it as you dipped it in, bringing your face close to it as you gently blew on the steam, bringing it to your mouth as you let it slip down your throat.

It had been so, so long since you had eaten something like this. Tears sprung in your eyes and you had no power over them as you quickly shoveled more into your mouth, not caring anymore how hot it was for your stomach kept begging for it.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna looked back from you to the two giggling maids, aggravation creeping in on him as he watched them laugh at you hungrily eating your meal.

"....like a wild animal," One of the girls whispered to the other and they snickered, having to seal their mouths shut when they caught Sukuna's eye.

You couldn't listen to them anymore through your rumbling stomach, but you stopped every once and while to grab the piece of bread laid out to your side, biting into it quickly as you chewed.

You had forgotten about your loose tooth, and as you chewed you heard a crack and before you knew it the small tooth tumbled out of your mouth and onto the table.

You quickly grabbed the napkin, holding it up to your gums to stop the onslaught of bleeding, but from the gasp of disgust to the clacking of your spoon against the oak table distracted you and the bloody napkin fell from your hand.

You quickly stood up, trying to find another napkin, but there was nothing, so you just cupped your hand over your mouth as you looked around for any help.

He was going to kill you here, you told yourself as you watched Sukuna stand up from his chair, a pall cast over his face as he made his way to you, he's disgusted by me.

His hand was nearing your body and you wrung your eyes shut, ready for his talons to slash through your skin, but you only felt calloused fingers grips your shoulder, leading you out of the room as he took you somewhere else.

He silently took you into another room, shutting the door quickly behind him as he ordered the servants inside to fetch him a pitcher of water and gauze.

Your hand never left your mouth, even as the blood poured out of it in fear of what he would do, but the kindness in his hold on your elbow startled you.

The servants cast each other looks as they brought him the things he asked for, and they watched observantly from the doorway as he ordered them out.

He dunks the gauze strips in the water, writing it back in the pitcher as he brought it to your face.

You still kept your hand there, but he gently grasped it, bringing it away from your face as he placed the gauze where your tooth used to be.

He could tell that you were missing other ones, and he noted to himself to only serve you softer food from now on.

Your hand laid in your lap, and you just shut your eyes as you let the curse do whatever he wanted, his fingers holding your mouth open as he gingerly dabbed the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Does it hurt badly?" He asked when he finished, the gauzes never coming back bloody as he poured you a cup of water, observing you intently as you shook your head.

"No, my lord, I am okay. I apologize for the inconvenience. I did not mean for it to happen."

Of course, you didn't, he wanted to say.

"Are any of your other teeth lose?"He asked and you nodded slowly, not opening your mouth despite the fact that he had already seen the ones you lost.

"How many?" He had never asked so many questions in the span of one night, but Sukuna needed to know. You should have been healed by his healer.

you counted in your head, running your tongue around and noting the ones that were about to fall, and kept your head down as you spoke.

"Three more, my lord." In addition to ones already gone that would make an eventual eight.

He shut his eyes thinking. He didn't say anything for a while, and you looked around the four walls as he thought silently to himself.

There was a bed in the corner, and it had been the first time in years you had seen one. It seemed benign; as if you'd float if you were to sleep on it.

"I'll have the healer look at you once again tomorrow," He concluded and all you could do was silently agree, not knowing what else to do.

He noticed your wandering eyes, how they seemed stuck on the object being him, and he glanced back at the small servants' bed.

"Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?" Oh, how you longed to sleep. You had been sleeping all these past few weeks, but it wasn't really sleeping. You were getting closer and closer to death, but all you could do was shut your eyes and hope that it came peacefully.

"It's no worries, my lord, I can sleep right where I am," You assured him, patting the chair as you tried to relax into it but his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion at your worries.

"Nonsense. Come with me," He walked towards the door, and your eyes shot open, not having enough time to get out and follow him as he paced much more quickly than you did.

He lead you through a maze of halls, and it wasn't long before you stopped in front of another door, much similar to the others.

He opened it and you had to hold your chest at the view that lay before you.

A massive bed, much bigger than your body sat in the middle. It was so big that you felt your inner child scream in delight at the sight. Was this even possible? It was unfair to have such a bed so big when you would only take up a fourth of it.

"You sleep here. Any issues and you tell one of the maids, understood?"

You quickly nodded, finger itching to feel the blanket, something you had lost the feeling of after a while.

"Yes, my lord. I understand."

And Sukuna stuttered to speak. He never did before. But how could he not when under the look of your kind eyes, the toothy smile that made its way across your beautiful face that could light up galaxies to come?

How could he not when his heart hammered so tightly in the limited space of his ribcage?

---

Everybody would raise their silent questions, but they would be answered when the curse made his way back home, covered in blood and mud, back to your room, knocking before he entered.

"What are you doing?" He'd ask one day, watching you in the corner of the room, using a small knife to nick away at a block of wood.

You looked up, a small smile making its way on your face, the same one that made him forget who he was before you answered him back.

"I'm making sculptures, see," You turned your chair around so that your table came more in view.

All along the top, he saw little things, a wooden flower, a little horse. Each was delicately made, and seeing how you grinned at them he could only bet that you had made them.

"What for?" He walked over to you, examining the little pieces before he placed them back down.

"The maids, the servants. They have helped me so much, that I wanted to give them something back." You explained, and Sukuna felt him smile at your words.

"Of course, I'll make you one once these are all done with," You quickly added, worried it would have offended him due to his extended hospitality.

He glanced at the little bird you had made, turning it around in his hand as he placed it in his pocket, looking at you for permission even though you wouldn't have said anything to disagree.

"I can make a bigger one if you want, my lord. I can make a bear, or an owl, that one has a small dent in it." You brought out another slab of wood, ready to carve whatever he requested, but he just shrugged.

"This one will do."

"Oh, well, alright, if you say so," You chewed on your bottom lip, worried that it would break easily.

He gripped your chin in his fingers as he lifted your face up to his, his thumb near your cheeks as his breath fanned over your skin.

"My lord?"

Your breathing stopped, your eyes staring back at his. He was beautiful, you thought to yourself. How could he not be? His red eyes were so enticing, the tattoos that littered his skin adding to his persona.

"Thank you," He breathed out, and you tilted your head to the side, a questioning smile growing on your lips.

"For what, my lord? The statue was small, I can do much better, I promise-" He shook his head, falling down on his knees so that he wouldn't tower so much over you.

"For the food, you had brought me that one day. I was unaware. Thank you." You tried to think back on what he was referring to, and your mind brought you back to the tomatoes and lettuce you had laid out for him, and you laughed gently at it.

"They were rotten, it was barely anything." You leaned your face deeper in his hold, not knowing what you were doing but enjoying the softness his palm felt on your skin.

"I still appreciate it, Y/n, no matter what condition it was. To think I almost," He choked at the thought, your face flashing in his mind and he dropped his hand, tears pricking at his eyes.

"Of course, Sukuna, anything for you."

And this time you held his giant hand in yours, closing both hands around one as you smiled gently at him, sitting down so that he wouldn't feel alone.

"Thank you for saving me, that night, I would have died by morning if not for you." Sukuna's grip tightened, protectiveness taking over at the thought of that.

"Anything for you, Y/n, anything for you." He brought your palm to your lips as he pressed a delicate kiss to it, and your smile grew.

"I," He paused, letting you go as he took a step back, "Never mind. I'll come back soon after this mission. Stay safe, alright?"

And he left without saying anything else, leaving you alone with your running mind as he turned walked down the hall, the sword growing heavy in his hand with the added thought of having something to return to.

---

You didn't know much when it came to Sukuna, nor the kindness he showed you.

It was strange, out of ordinary, but you wouldn't complain about it when it very well saved your life.

You heard the murmurs of the people around you whenever you walked through the temple, the gazes of pity and jealousy they honed when you ate dinner with him.

You could tell that you weren't wanted, but you tried very hard to show that you weren't totally useless.

Some days you would help clean the floors and rooms, and others you'd help them cook the flood or clean the alter. They never spoke t you, only giving you glances filled with unreadable expressions, but they were never opposed to giving you most of their load.

You knew what they were doing, but you never voiced it. You were lucky to be alive, and you would do anything to pay them back.

"He doesn't love you, you know." One of the maids, Hatsu, you had come to learn, told you.

You dropped the pants you had been folding in surprise and peeked up.

"I'm sorry?" Her teeth showed when she gave you a small smile, shock overtaking her expression as she feigned worry.

"He's done this with many women, Y/n, you're not the first. You certainly won't be the last, either." She added, mumbling to herself, and your cheeks heated, shaking your head in disagreement.

"Of course he doesn't! My lord is just being," You couldn't finish that sentence for you knew it would travel around if the people heard you called the cursed kind.

"Caring? Of course, he is, Y/n, how else would he bed a virgin such as yourself. He loves them more than anything. Having his army of children is what he wants." She further explained and you felt your throat closing up the more she spoke.

"Kame, aren't I right?" She called her friend over, smiling viciously over your crestfallen face.

"That's how he is, Y/n. Naive girls, innocent ones, ones who have never been touched before. You're probably the best he's seen. What was it, the first thing you did when you saw him, cry?" Kame and Hatsu shared a grin, "No wonder he's so enthralled by you."

"H-he's never, all he's been is-"

"Devoted? Compassionate? What else would he be? Honestly, Y/n, don't you ever use that head of yours?" She flicked your forehead roughly and Kame snickered as your lips trembled.

"He kills them all afterward, too," Hastu told you, "He doesn't like them once they're ruined."

"I," you stood up shakily, chest heaving as you tried making your way out of the cleaning room, "I have to leave. Please excuse me,"

And all you could do was run out, out towards your room, lungs heavy, heart bleeding as you opened the door as quickly as you could have.

You didn't know what to do. You knew it was too good. He was too kind, too thoughtful. He was going to fuck you and then kill you, of course, he would. What use did he have with someone of your sorts, you had nothing to offer him.

He would be returning any day now, and you had to push out his kind words from your mind as you began to pack a bag, shoveling the small amount of clothing you owned, some apples you kept by your tableside to snack on.

You were in a rush as you scribbled a note to the servants, heart hammering away in fear as you flew just as quickly out the door, still putting your shoes on as you ran out the door of the temple, the mids all staring in happiness as you made your way down the hill, your running figure leaving view as you made your way into the thickness of the forest.

"Finally," Kame bumped her shoulder into Hatsu's as she made her way back in, "I was getting tired of taking care of his bitch."

---

Sukuna returned only a handful of days later, shoulder heavy with a fight, chest bruised and hands aching, but as he neared his temple his mood lightened, eyes crinkling around the corner as he returned with the thought of you in his mind.

Entering his home he was greeted with silence and the occasional stare of the maid. He picked up on their chatters but paid it no mind as he made his way quickly to the familiar door.

He had to suppress the growing smile on his face as he dug out the flowers from the pocket of his robes. They had been smashed a little on his journey back, but they were still intact nonetheless.

He knocked once, waiting to hear the voice he had been longing to hear for the past couple of weeks.

When he got no reply, he knocked once more.

"Y/n," He cleared his throat, "I am back. If you may, I have something for you."

He waited and still got no response.

Perhaps you were asleep, he thought to himself.

"I will open the door now. I have to get some things taken care of quickly, I just need to give you..." And once the door swung open he was greeted to a grizzly sight.

Your table was messy, the cabinet shelves were outdrawn, your bed was not made. He knew you were keen on riding things up, and so this was out of the ordinary. Terrifyingly so.

He found a small note on your table, but he couldn't read any of it through his blurry mind, running out as he called your name hopelessly.

"Y/n? Y/n!" He ran out, calling your name, looking wildly around as he ran down the hall, looking in every room, every corner his temple offered, but you were nowhere to be found.

"My lord," He heard one of the girls call out and he stopped, crazily looking at her through his crazed eyes and she took a step back.

"Y/n is gone, we've been looking for her this past day, we can't-"

"Why was I not told?"

His voice was so calm, so dreadfully calm that Kame took another step back.

"Hm?" He walked towards her, not caring of her please as rage overtook him, her heart coming clean out as he dropped her body like a sack on the floor, continuing his search for you as he made his way out.

For hours he ran through the forest, seeing little footprints that resembled yours but found you to no avail.

At dawn, he sank to his knees, the trees surrounding him chanting at him for his loss, for his failure, for the fact that he could only be a curse and capable of nothing else except killing.

How could he love? He was no man. He was Ryomen Sukuna, and that's all he would be known for. But he wanted you, your loving heart, your caring smile, the way you lit up his world in ways he never imagined.

And for the first time in his life, he felt tears fall from his eyes, the salty feeling biting at his cheeks as he kept looking for you through his blurred vision.

He found you once, didn't he? He'd just have to find you once more.

---

He made his way through an opening and saw the oak gates that lead to your village.

It had been days since he last went looking for you, and he was sure that this would be the place you could be. It had to be. he didn't know what to do if you weren't here.

As usual, he heard the screams of people when they saw the four-armed monster, but he ran everywhere he thought you would be, your old three wood house ruined from the last time he saw it.

And as he looked around more he stumbled into the town square, and in the middle, he saw the hanging post, people backing into their homes as he continued his search.

Sukuna was more and more lost as he looked around, ready to give up and go back in the forest when he saw a familiar flash of color.

Right there, in the middle of everybody, was you.

Your head hung down, a noose hanging from around your neck as you dangled in the air.

Time stopped as he made his way towards your body, heart stopping when he got to you.

For once, you were head to head with him without trying, but he didn't know what to do as he hung desperately to your chest, his arms encircling your waist as he held you tightly to him.

"Oh, Y/n," he muttered into your skin, your cold skin freezing his, "Oh, Y/n."

He read the sign to the side: Traitors and Killers, and he looked back at you. You were none of those things. You had never killed, and all you asked for in return was life.

Was that really a traitorous thing to ask for?

He took you down from the stand, carrying your body out of your village as he took you to the woods.

He stopped at the river, the same place he saw you for the first time and began digging your grave.

There were many things he wish he had done differently. He wished he could have told you that he would have burnt the world down for you if you asked, that you held his heart in your hands and he had no intention of asking for it back.

But he couldn't and so all he could do was place little flowers around the soil in which you lied under.

When all you were was freshly dug dirt, he turned his back and made his way back to the village.

The sun shone the day he found you died, and the moon shone even brighter when he killed them all.


Tags :
3 years ago

đ˜Ș𝘯 đ˜­đ˜°đ˜·đ˜Š, đ˜Ș 𝘧𝘱𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘮 đ˜șđ˜°đ˜¶đ˜ł đ˜·đ˜Șđ˜€đ˜”đ˜Ș𝘼 - (sukuna x reader angst)

lover of mine, i never said those words as clear as i meant to. thank you for your smiles, for your heart. let me remember your last face like a loving one, and not of you in death.

summary: you see him a handful of times down by the river, washing off the bloodstains from his clothing and hands. you wonder to yourself how he could look so human in such a monstrous act. once he see's you he can't get you rid of his mind.

paring: sukuna x f!reader

genre: angst, soft love, little fluff

warnings: blood, gruesome death, talks of sex and taking virginity

word count: 7k+

jjk masterlist

---

 , - (sukuna X Reader Angst)

---

"Do you intend on staring the entire time?"

The hair on your neck rose, your breath catching in your throat as you hear him call out.

Surely he couldn't have seen you. You had tried to hide decently well into the background of the forest.

"Your act of concealment is rather pitiful, you know." His voice disparaged you once more, and from the sliver of opening the bushes allowed you saw him look over his shoulder, staring directly at you as he raised an eyebrow.

"Come out, human." You for the first time you hear the real command in his voice, the one that terrified the men in your village, the ones who came back from battle and laid awake at night with it echoing in the solitude of their minds.

You gave it a couple seconds, and when you saw him vanish from the spot he had been near the river bank you panicked, looking around everywhere to see where he had gone.

You felt a rush of air wisp behind you, and you whipped your head around to see a large hand circle around your throat, long, claw-like nails digging into your skin as he effortlessly raised you from the ground.

You felt the voice in your head mock you for your stupidity, the idea alone of spying on the curse everybody feared an idiotic idea. But you were curious, too curious for your own good, and the first time you saw him you were fascinated.

Here he seemed like the monster everybody made him out to be. Blood from his previous victims splattered across his face, red eyes boring into yours as he assessed the person in front of him, large muscles flexing as he turned you around, gawking at you like an animal in a cage.

But the first time you saw him, he drew you in, and perhaps that would be the sole reason for your demise. The sun shone shined splendidly that day, reflecting off the water beneath him, his skin shining bright as he delicately cleaned his dirtied clothes in peace.

You hadn't meant to run into him that day, but you couldn't rest seeing him act so human, so normally, after every rumor, you had heard.

You now wish you had listened to them.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" He cocked his head to the side, eyebrow perched as you meekly grabbed at his hand, begging him to loosen his grip.

His eyes trailed down to your gaping mouth, eyes widening with the lack of air, and his grip loosed, dropping you roughly to the ground, giving you a couple of seconds to failingly come up on your arms, coughing as you rubbed weakly at your neck, trying to ease to soreness away.

He dropped down to his knees, crouching down at your side as he waited for you to recover, in no rush as you hacked away.

"I asked you a question," He reminded you and you fearfully looked up, eyes filled with tears as you weakly nodded, your chapped lips trembling in dread.

"Is that a yes?" His lips upturned in a small and taunting smile, his sharpened teeth gleaming back at you as you gulped, clearing your throat as you tried your best to respond.

"Yes, yes," You looked at the grass beneath you, anything but the figure of death in front of you, "I have been here before, my lord."

He kept his eyes locked on yours, his look never shifting from one to the other, keeping natural as if to frighten you even more.

Would anybody care if you had been killed out in the woods today? Would anybody come looking if you went missing?

"Is it you who's been watching me these past weeks?" He asked, and even on the ground sitting in front of you he shadowed your crumpled form, and you wiped some of the slobber from your lips before you spoke again.

"I apologize, my lord." Your fingers shook far too much, could he tell? Could he see that your blood was freezing under your skin?

"May I ask what's intrigued you so much to return?" You feel this breath on your cheeks, his nose close to yours as he leaned in, the air in your lungs seizing as you held it all to yourself.

Your fingers itched to grab the small bundle you had brought with you, the one you had failed to give these past weeks.

He watched the movement, his eyes quickly darting over to the small package concealed in a piece of dirtied cloth.

"Is this yours?" He reached over and grabbed it, examining its shabby shape as you meekly nodded once more, your mouth too dry to give him a proper response.

He glanced back over to you, truly studying you. Your clothes were dirty, mud and dirt clinging to your skin, holes littering the soles of your shoes. Your hair was clumped together and nails were outgrown from their beds.

He had been familiarized with the nearby village, having ransacked it multiple times. He knew the women well, their appearances were far more important than anything else. If you were from there it was obvious you were one of their outcasts, if the skin clinging to your bones would say anything.

He kept an eye on you as you coughed again, blood specking the palm of your hand as you wiped it on your pants, embarrassed and more honestly terrified to look at him, opting to gape at the ground.

He turned the lump of fabric around in his hand, weighing it and sniffing it as if to sense what was inside. A foul smell flew under his nose, and he winced as he quickly went to open it, his inquisitiveness taking over.

The fabric was flimsy and wasn't tied hard enough, falling away as he peeled it back.

Small tomatoes and pieces of lettuce tumbled out, some parts of them molded as they fell to his feet.

"I apologize, my lord, they are not of the best quality." You explained and he scoffed, taking the small vegetables and squishing it between his fingers, turning back to you as he took you by the collar, lifting it up so that you would be face to face with him.

"Were those for me?" His head tilted again, a small pout overtaking his smile as he watched you struggle to come up with words to say.

"Have you been watching me these past few weeks just to give me rotten vegetables?"

He watched in clear amusement as you sniffled, your eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, hands quivering as you kept them balled by your side.

"Did that really sound like a good idea to you?" His grip on your collar tightened, and you gasp as he lifted you once more, your feet dangling as you tried to get back down.

Sukuna looked at you, the tears welling in your eyes, the tomatoes, and lettuce as his feet looking back up at him as he strangled you, your fingers weakling attempting to grab at his clenching fists.

"I'm s-sorry," You choked out, "It's all I h-had." Some bloodied spit landed on his face and he grimaced, dropping you immediately to wipe it off.

You couldn't muster up a groan as you felt your ankle crack from the pressure, only having enough strength to try to crawl away.

This isn't how you wanted to die, not alone and at the hands of the curse of death himself. Not when you wanted to see the countryside, to sail in those things they called ships. Not on the ground of a forest, you stumbled upon one day, your kind heart killing you eventually.

And all Sukuna did was watch the pitiful scene, eyebrows drawing together as he saw your crumpled form sit at the stump of a tree, your ankle bent the wrong way, your eyes barely open as you went in and out of consciences.

Who were you? Surely not a girl of any importance. He would have already bedded you had you been one. You were poor, perhaps worse than that, yet you managed to bring him portions of your food.

Even in the coldest of winters, he had watched the village chief struggle to give up a third of his meals to honor him, yet an insignificant girl like you who obviously needed the wasted vegetables more than anything was offering it to him.

Should he kill you here? Make it painless? It seemed that your health was already declining, your bloody coughs enough proof for him. He'd be putting you out of your misery if he did it now.

But walking towards you, his nails turned into the claws he was so used to, kneeling down once more to your slumped form, he couldn't seem to do it.

You couldn't even lift your head to beg for your life, but you tried to bring up your fist that paled in size to his, curling it around one of his fingers as you tried to push him away.

And his nails were right there, right at the base of your throat, ready to slit, but he felt the little bit of heat as you sickly gripped him, the little tear droplets wetting his skin as he retracted his hand.

He stared at the top of your head, watching as your hand fell to your side, your body too weak to keep it up anymore.

And he grumbled to himself, saying things such that he wasn't fucking enough people and his mind was going crazy, cupping your knees as he lifted you gently up, supporting your head with the palm of his hand as he brought you back to the village.

He could have killed you even then as he was entering the gates, but you had held onto his shirt so tightly that he could barely lift his finger to do such a thing.

---

You awoke in one of the alleyways, your head lolling to the side as you groaned, your bleary vision not making out many things.

Dim candlelight shone from behind you, and turning around you saw the infamous infirmary of our village, and you stumbled trying to get up, a small and quiet cry falling as you put too much weight on your ankle, gripping the sides of the walls as you tried to steady yourself.

You could barely remember the previous events of the night, but you could barely think as you pushed your way through the door, the two healers jumping in surprise as fell to the floor.

It was a small shack, barely bigger than two rooms, but you had heard many stories of all the wonders that happened inside here. A small whicker of hope ignited in your chest. Maybe they could heal your ankle, maybe even you cough?

One of them tried to help you up but your body fell to the other side, and you heard muffled talking as the two of them spoke in hushed whispers on what to do.

"She's weak, too weak, we can't do much," You made out the woman say, and something else was added but you couldn't catch it. The other one was silent for a minute before he replied.

"Just throw her out. They die anyway. We need the space for the ones who matter." And though you wanted to open your mouth and cry out for their help, that you did matter, at least you did at one point.

But no matter how hard you wanted to, you couldn't do much as they harshly lifted you by the elbows dragging you out and throwing you right back where you were.

You thudded to the ground, your already broken ankle damaged more and you felt tears of pain spring in your eyes. It was night, maybe early in the morning, and the season of fall was coming closer and closer to your village, the crisp air biting at your barley-covered skin.

You shuddered, and it took some time for you to pull yourself up, using the wall as support once more as you traveled up ahead, knowing that your shabby home wouldn't be too far away.

It was a painful journey, but you eventually tumbled into the little shack you made a while back. Three pieces of wooden plans were balanced on each other, a scrawny blanket resembling rags rested on top to protect you from the elements.

You heaved a sigh as you relaxed on the dirt floor, leaning your back gently as you reached into your pocket to grab one of the tomatoes you had saved,

But it came back empty, and you remember that they were littered on that forest floor far from where you were.

And so with an empty stomach and burning bones, you tried your best to nod off to sleep.

---

Months passed by and Sukuna had almost forgotten about the girl in the woods, and he had no intention of remembering her again.

He kept up with his usual routine; taking home men and women from the villages he conquered easily, fighting the pesky sorcerers that came by once in a while, and retreated back to his room once he repeated those things over and over again.

It had been a ruling winter, and even for a curse like him he had to admit the cold was biting and cruel, and he laughed at the thought of how bad it must have been for those humans.

The people who lived and served at his temple all shivered as they made him his food and cleaned the floors, but even they were spared with the walls that surrounded him.

One night, he restlessly wandered around the halls, his bare feet padding on the marble floors as he looked around, glancing out of the windows as the moon stared back restlessly at him.

He went back to his room to retrieve his robs, shrugging them on as he grabbed his sword, saying nothing as he made his way out, hungry for another village to ransack and take for his name.

It didn't take him a while until he found one, but to much dismay, he remembered the oak gates that lead into it, and if he was being honest the people weren't the best when it came to a good fuck.

Though nonetheless, he strolled through, and some of the strangers who were bundled in their own winter clothing shrieked, ducking for cover as he made his way through.

The snow that fell from the sky did nothing to him, but it littered the ground in a stark white, and it crunched under his feet as he made his way to the brothel house he had been familiarized with so long ago.

As he entered the women who had been at the front jumped up, their faces pailing as he towered over them, looking around for a couple of people he intended to bring back to his temple.

He looked for another while, some faces familiar but others not so much as he pointed to them silently, and they knew what it meant as they stepped forward, not looking him in the eye as they feared it would get them killed.

The ordeal didn't last for long, and as he left, the chosen ones took it as a sign to trek behind him, worriedly looking at each other.

He made his way out, some spectators washing wordlessly from their windows as he passed by.

Sukuna paused when he heard hurried footsteps from behind him, and a small body thumped down in front of him, the person on their hands and knees as they shuddered from the winter winds.

"My lord! It is an honor having you here! Please," The village chief shakily looked up, wincing when he saw the curse looking down at him with interest, "I have even better women if you so desire! Men, if you want! These ones are cheap, nothing like the best we offer!" The man knew well that if Sukuna was displeased he could very well take that upon his village, head heard the rumors.

Sukuna looked at the ones he had picked, their fur coats clinging to their skins as they looked down, and then to the large hut, the chief lived at.

"Show me them." He ordered, and the little man jumped up, bowing as he lead Sukuna to the destination, leaving the other women stranded as they went in search of others.

It was a quiet walk, and Sukuna preferred that over the mousey man speaking his head off.

They were nearly there when Sukuna saw a flash of color, something that had stuck in his mind no matter how hard he had tried to get rid of it.

He narrowed his eyes, seeing a slumped figure curled at the wall, their legs brought up to their chest as they slept.

He wished deep inside that the person was only asleep, and nothing worse.

He strayed away from the man as he went towards them, crouching down as he sat in front of the person, lifting their chin up with his forefinger as he came in view with a familiar face.

The girl in the woods, the one with the rotten vegetables.

Your cheeks had cuts on them, some fresh, some old. Your ankle, the one he remembered being badly broken, was still at an odd angle, though he recalled clearly that he had dropped you off at the infirmary to get it taken care of.

He ran his thumb across your skin, and to no surprise, you were freezing to the touch. Your shredded clothing doing barely anything to help you from the cold.

He raised two fingers to the pulse point at your neck, and somewhere in him relaxed when he found one.

The fingers that so weakly grabbed your knees were shaking fervently, and he took off his robe as he draped it across your shoulders.

"This one is barely alive, my lord, you can kill her if you wish," The man peeped from the corner and Sukuna had to control himself not to kill him in front of you.

"I promise that the ones I have to show you are much, much better than her!" He chuckled awkwardly as Sukuna sat still, his fingers gingerly gripping your chin as he tried to coax you to wake up.

"One of my men was supposed to get rid of her the past fortnight, it seems that he forgot," He muttered mostly to himself, his nose wrinkling from your stench.

"It's vermin like this that must be rid of!" He said fiercely, almost comically, and Sukuna's hold on your arm tightened as he gently tried to wake you up to no avail.

You were alive, he told himself, you had to be.

"My lord, it must not be comfortable for you in this cold, come and-" He could barely finish his sentence before Sukuna had slit his throat, his body dropping to the floor as he tried to stop the bleeding.

The ground beneath him stained red, but all Sukuna could care about was getting to you, a strange urge overtaking him as he spoke to you in a quiet tone.

"Can you open your eyes?" He whispered, a strange thing for him, but he hoped that it would get you to wake up.

You shivered quietly, your lips and teeth trembling against each other as you slowly shook your head, but that much let him sigh in relief, running his thumb across your cheek as he supported your head in his hand.

"Can you try?" His red eyes focused on the way your bruised eye twitched, but slowly you creaked open your other one, and his chest eased.

"There you go," He coaxed, going on his knees as he carefully picked you up, just as he had done that day, wrapping the robe around you tighter and you shifted into the warmth he offered.

You were so light he feared he'd break you, but you seemed appreciative of the help, curling in his arms as you tried to hide the skin left without any clothing covered with your hands.

Your bones poked out from underneath your skin, and for once in his lifetime Sukuna was terrified of the fact that they would breakthrough.

"Do you remember me?" He asked as he walked out of the village, ignoring the shocked gasps and the murmured voices as they saw you in his arms.

You barely nodded, but you gripped onto the fabric covering his torso, and his gaze softened, shocking him and perhaps the world around.

"What is your name?" He tried to keep his nails away from your fragile skin in fear of cutting you, and he had to lean his head down to hear your faint voice.

"Y-y," You gulped for some air, "Y/n." And Sukuna had never been happier to hear a sound, your voice easing the worries he had of you being dead, and he walked faster towards his temple.

"Do you prefer anything to eat?" He looked at your skeletal body and you tried to shrug, but it was too difficult so you just stayed limp.

"Soup," You attempted to say but you coughed, trying to cover your mouth with your fist, and Sukuna saw the specks of blood that sprayed your skin.

"Soup," he nodded to himself, "Is that all?" He had left the village now and was nearing his temple.

"Yes," You muttered softly, "My teeth," You paused to cough, "They do not work well anymore." Sukuna shifted his hold on your head, his hands tightening their grip on you as he went uphill.

Why did his chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like guilt was eating him alive? What were you doing to him?

When he entered through the double doors an influx of maids came rushing in, ready to prep the men and women he had selected only to be met with a frail girl curled into the massive curses chest.

They looked uncertainly at each other as he moved past them, turning the corner to move through the halls, stopping at his door as he pushed it open.

Inside he saw his two most trusted servants, and they rushed towards him, taking you from his arms as they brought you to the bath.

"Be careful with her," He warned, his tone wavering when he heard you whimper, "Anything and I'll crack your skulls under my feet." The two women fervently nodded, handling you with more care as they lead you to the separate rooms.

Sukuna watched as it all happened.

What was he doing?

---

Once you had been washed through and properly helped by one of his healers, they lead you to the dining hall, and you still had to blink and repeat to yourself what was happening to keep yourself from going insane.

They sat you in a chair, a random hand placing a steaming bowl in front of you as they left you to eat.

You quite frankly had no idea what happened in the past hour, but it had been a while since you had been in the comfort of a home with food in front of you, and so you put it past yourself as you began to bring a shaky hand to grasp the spoon.

Your arms were too weak from weeks of barely any use, and you had brought the spoon close to your mouth only to lose grasp of it and spill it on yourself.

You heard some noise around you, and you slowly glanced around you, the women who helped clean you covering their mouths with their hands as their shoulders shook, soft giggles spilling from their lips as they watched you attempt to eat the soup.

Embarrassment took over your senses, but you found a napkin near your left and patted your robes, trying to get the stains off.

Going to grab the spoon again, you gave yourself a couple of seconds to flex your hand before you brought it up to your lips. You had put it in but the heat of it you were unprepared for, and you spit it out quickly from your mouth before it burnt the rest of your tongue.

The snickering from around you only got louder, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying in humiliation.

You should have blown on it, you told yourself, but it had been so long since you had actually had something warmed up that it must have slipped your mind.

You dabbed the table with the napkin to clean up some of the stains, and the silence around you should have told you that there was a change in atmosphere, but you only realized that when you felt a looming figure behind you.

"Is everything alright?"

His voice you remembered well. It was deep, ominous, but it also calmed you down. For it had been he who saved you from the bitter cold and nobody else.

You quickly dropped to your knees, albeit, slowly from how undernourished you were, kissing his feet as you kept your face hidden.

"My lord," Your hands shook, "Thank you, bless you, thank you, I cannot express my gratitude. I will do anything you ask, I am in your debt forever, my lord..." You rambled on but stopped when you felt a strong force tugging you up by the arm.

"Enough of this," He clicked his tongue as he pushed you back in the chair, and you huffed out a cough when he pulled out the chair diagonal from you, his fingers webbed with each other as he stared at you.

"Aren't you going to eat?" He asked, his eyebrow cocked upwards and you gave him a swift nod, your shaky hands back at trying to grab the spoon, but from the fear of being watched by him, it slipped out of your hold once more and fell in the soup, splattering even more across your clothing.

The soft laughter from the women could be heard, and you looked at them from the corner of your eyes, chest sinking with onslaught discomfiture as the most powerful curse in creation watched you struggle to pick up a spoon.

"I apologize, my lord," Your boney fingers went to clutch it again, and you opted to just close your fist around it as you dipped it in, bringing your face close to it as you gently blew on the steam, bringing it to your mouth as you let it slip down your throat.

It had been so, so long since you had eaten something like this. Tears sprung in your eyes and you had no power over them as you quickly shoveled more into your mouth, not caring anymore how hot it was for your stomach kept begging for it.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna looked back from you to the two giggling maids, aggravation creeping in on him as he watched them laugh at you hungrily eating your meal.

"....like a wild animal," One of the girls whispered to the other and they snickered, having to seal their mouths shut when they caught Sukuna's eye.

You couldn't listen to them anymore through your rumbling stomach, but you stopped every once and while to grab the piece of bread laid out to your side, biting into it quickly as you chewed.

You had forgotten about your loose tooth, and as you chewed you heard a crack and before you knew it the small tooth tumbled out of your mouth and onto the table.

You quickly grabbed the napkin, holding it up to your gums to stop the onslaught of bleeding, but from the gasp of disgust to the clacking of your spoon against the oak table distracted you and the bloody napkin fell from your hand.

You quickly stood up, trying to find another napkin, but there was nothing, so you just cupped your hand over your mouth as you looked around for any help.

He was going to kill you here, you told yourself as you watched Sukuna stand up from his chair, a pall cast over his face as he made his way to you, he's disgusted by me.

His hand was nearing your body and you wrung your eyes shut, ready for his talons to slash through your skin, but you only felt calloused fingers grips your shoulder, leading you out of the room as he took you somewhere else.

He silently took you into another room, shutting the door quickly behind him as he ordered the servants inside to fetch him a pitcher of water and gauze.

Your hand never left your mouth, even as the blood poured out of it in fear of what he would do, but the kindness in his hold on your elbow startled you.

The servants cast each other looks as they brought him the things he asked for, and they watched observantly from the doorway as he ordered them out.

He dunks the gauze strips in the water, writing it back in the pitcher as he brought it to your face.

You still kept your hand there, but he gently grasped it, bringing it away from your face as he placed the gauze where your tooth used to be.

He could tell that you were missing other ones, and he noted to himself to only serve you softer food from now on.

Your hand laid in your lap, and you just shut your eyes as you let the curse do whatever he wanted, his fingers holding your mouth open as he gingerly dabbed the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Does it hurt badly?" He asked when he finished, the gauzes never coming back bloody as he poured you a cup of water, observing you intently as you shook your head.

"No, my lord, I am okay. I apologize for the inconvenience. I did not mean for it to happen."

Of course, you didn't, he wanted to say.

"Are any of your other teeth lose?"He asked and you nodded slowly, not opening your mouth despite the fact that he had already seen the ones you lost.

"How many?" He had never asked so many questions in the span of one night, but Sukuna needed to know. You should have been healed by his healer.

you counted in your head, running your tongue around and noting the ones that were about to fall, and kept your head down as you spoke.

"Three more, my lord." In addition to ones already gone that would make an eventual eight.

He shut his eyes thinking. He didn't say anything for a while, and you looked around the four walls as he thought silently to himself.

There was a bed in the corner, and it had been the first time in years you had seen one. It seemed benign; as if you'd float if you were to sleep on it.

"I'll have the healer look at you once again tomorrow," He concluded and all you could do was silently agree, not knowing what else to do.

He noticed your wandering eyes, how they seemed stuck on the object being him, and he glanced back at the small servants' bed.

"Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?" Oh, how you longed to sleep. You had been sleeping all these past few weeks, but it wasn't really sleeping. You were getting closer and closer to death, but all you could do was shut your eyes and hope that it came peacefully.

"It's no worries, my lord, I can sleep right where I am," You assured him, patting the chair as you tried to relax into it but his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion at your worries.

"Nonsense. Come with me," He walked towards the door, and your eyes shot open, not having enough time to get out and follow him as he paced much more quickly than you did.

He lead you through a maze of halls, and it wasn't long before you stopped in front of another door, much similar to the others.

He opened it and you had to hold your chest at the view that lay before you.

A massive bed, much bigger than your body sat in the middle. It was so big that you felt your inner child scream in delight at the sight. Was this even possible? It was unfair to have such a bed so big when you would only take up a fourth of it.

"You sleep here. Any issues and you tell one of the maids, understood?"

You quickly nodded, finger itching to feel the blanket, something you had lost the feeling of after a while.

"Yes, my lord. I understand."

And Sukuna stuttered to speak. He never did before. But how could he not when under the look of your kind eyes, the toothy smile that made its way across your beautiful face that could light up galaxies to come?

How could he not when his heart hammered so tightly in the limited space of his ribcage?

---

Everybody would raise their silent questions, but they would be answered when the curse made his way back home, covered in blood and mud, back to your room, knocking before he entered.

"What are you doing?" He'd ask one day, watching you in the corner of the room, using a small knife to nick away at a block of wood.

You looked up, a small smile making its way on your face, the same one that made him forget who he was before you answered him back.

"I'm making sculptures, see," You turned your chair around so that your table came more in view.

All along the top, he saw little things, a wooden flower, a little horse. Each was delicately made, and seeing how you grinned at them he could only bet that you had made them.

"What for?" He walked over to you, examining the little pieces before he placed them back down.

"The maids, the servants. They have helped me so much, that I wanted to give them something back." You explained, and Sukuna felt him smile at your words.

"Of course, I'll make you one once these are all done with," You quickly added, worried it would have offended him due to his extended hospitality.

He glanced at the little bird you had made, turning it around in his hand as he placed it in his pocket, looking at you for permission even though you wouldn't have said anything to disagree.

"I can make a bigger one if you want, my lord. I can make a bear, or an owl, that one has a small dent in it." You brought out another slab of wood, ready to carve whatever he requested, but he just shrugged.

"This one will do."

"Oh, well, alright, if you say so," You chewed on your bottom lip, worried that it would break easily.

He gripped your chin in his fingers as he lifted your face up to his, his thumb near your cheeks as his breath fanned over your skin.

"My lord?"

Your breathing stopped, your eyes staring back at his. He was beautiful, you thought to yourself. How could he not be? His red eyes were so enticing, the tattoos that littered his skin adding to his persona.

"Thank you," He breathed out, and you tilted your head to the side, a questioning smile growing on your lips.

"For what, my lord? The statue was small, I can do much better, I promise-" He shook his head, falling down on his knees so that he wouldn't tower so much over you.

"For the food, you had brought me that one day. I was unaware. Thank you." You tried to think back on what he was referring to, and your mind brought you back to the tomatoes and lettuce you had laid out for him, and you laughed gently at it.

"They were rotten, it was barely anything." You leaned your face deeper in his hold, not knowing what you were doing but enjoying the softness his palm felt on your skin.

"I still appreciate it, Y/n, no matter what condition it was. To think I almost," He choked at the thought, your face flashing in his mind and he dropped his hand, tears pricking at his eyes.

"Of course, Sukuna, anything for you."

And this time you held his giant hand in yours, closing both hands around one as you smiled gently at him, sitting down so that he wouldn't feel alone.

"Thank you for saving me, that night, I would have died by morning if not for you." Sukuna's grip tightened, protectiveness taking over at the thought of that.

"Anything for you, Y/n, anything for you." He brought your palm to your lips as he pressed a delicate kiss to it, and your smile grew.

"I," He paused, letting you go as he took a step back, "Never mind. I'll come back soon after this mission. Stay safe, alright?"

And he left without saying anything else, leaving you alone with your running mind as he turned walked down the hall, the sword growing heavy in his hand with the added thought of having something to return to.

---

You didn't know much when it came to Sukuna, nor the kindness he showed you.

It was strange, out of ordinary, but you wouldn't complain about it when it very well saved your life.

You heard the murmurs of the people around you whenever you walked through the temple, the gazes of pity and jealousy they honed when you ate dinner with him.

You could tell that you weren't wanted, but you tried very hard to show that you weren't totally useless.

Some days you would help clean the floors and rooms, and others you'd help them cook the flood or clean the alter. They never spoke t you, only giving you glances filled with unreadable expressions, but they were never opposed to giving you most of their load.

You knew what they were doing, but you never voiced it. You were lucky to be alive, and you would do anything to pay them back.

"He doesn't love you, you know." One of the maids, Hatsu, you had come to learn, told you.

You dropped the pants you had been folding in surprise and peeked up.

"I'm sorry?" Her teeth showed when she gave you a small smile, shock overtaking her expression as she feigned worry.

"He's done this with many women, Y/n, you're not the first. You certainly won't be the last, either." She added, mumbling to herself, and your cheeks heated, shaking your head in disagreement.

"Oh my, he doesn't! He is just being..." You couldn't finish that sentence for you knew it would travel around if the people heard you called the cursed kind.

"Caring? Of course, he is, Y/n, how else would he bed a virgin such as yourself. He loves them more than anything. He wants his legacy to live on forever." She further explained and you felt your throat closing up the more she spoke.

"Kame, aren't I right?" She called her friend over, smiling viciously over your crestfallen face.

"That's how he is, Y/n. Naive girls, innocent ones, ones who have never been touched before. You're probably the best he's seen. What was it, the first thing you did when you saw him, cry?" Kame and Hatsu shared a grin, "No wonder he's so enthralled by you."

"H-he's never, all he's been is-"

"Devoted? Compassionate? What else would he be? Honestly, Y/n, don't you ever use that head of yours?" She flicked your forehead roughly and Kame snickered as your lips trembled.

"He kills them all afterward, too," Hastu told you, "He doesn't like them once they're ruined."

"I," you stood up shakily, chest heaving as you tried making your way out of the cleaning room, "I have to leave. Please excuse me,"

And all you could do was run out, out towards your room, lungs heavy, heart bleeding as you opened the door as quickly as you could have.

You didn't know what to do. You knew it was too good. He was too kind, too thoughtful. He was going to fuck you and then kill you, of course, he would. What use did he have with someone of your sorts, you had nothing to offer him.

He would be returning any day now, and you had to push out his kind words from your mind as you began to pack a bag, shoveling the small amount of clothing you owned, some apples you kept by your tableside to snack on.

You were in a rush as you scribbled a note to the servants, heart hammering away in fear as you flew just as quickly out the door, still putting your shoes on as you ran out the door of the temple, the mids all staring in happiness as you made your way down the hill, your running figure leaving view as you made your way into the thickness of the forest.

"Finally," Kame bumped her shoulder into Hatsu's as she made her way back in, "I was getting tired of taking care of his bitch."

---

Sukuna returned only a handful of days later, shoulder heavy with a fight, chest bruised and hands aching, but as he neared his temple his mood lightened, eyes crinkling around the corner as he returned with the thought of you in his mind.

Entering his home he was greeted with silence and the occasional stare of the maid. He picked up on their chatters but paid it no mind as he made his way quickly to the familiar door.

He had to suppress the growing smile on his face as he dug out the flowers from the pocket of his robes. They had been smashed a little on his journey back, but they were still intact nonetheless.

He knocked once, waiting to hear the voice he had been longing to hear for the past couple of weeks.

When he got no reply, he knocked once more.

"Y/n," He cleared his throat, "I am back. If you may, I have something for you."

He waited and still got no response.

Perhaps you were asleep, he thought to himself.

"I will open the door now. I have to get some things taken care of quickly, I just need to give you..." And once the door swung open he was greeted to a grizzly sight.

Your table was messy, the cabinet shelves were outdrawn, your bed was not made. He knew you were keen on riding things up, and so this was out of the ordinary. Terrifyingly so.

He found a small note on your table, but he couldn't read any of it through his blurry mind, running out as he called your name hopelessly.

"Y/n? Y/n!" He ran out, calling your name, looking wildly around as he ran down the hall, looking in every room, every corner his temple offered, but you were nowhere to be found.

"My lord," He heard one of the girls call out and he stopped, crazily looking at her through his crazed eyes and she took a step back.

"Y/n is gone, we've been looking for her this past day, we can't-"

"Why was I not told?"

His voice was so calm, so dreadfully calm that Kame took another step back.

"Hm?" He walked towards her, not caring of her please as rage overtook him, her heart coming clean out as he dropped her body like a sack on the floor, continuing his search for you as he made his way out.

For hours he ran through the forest, seeing little footprints that resembled yours but found you to no avail.

At dawn, he sank to his knees, the trees surrounding him chanting at him for his loss, for his failure, for the fact that he could only be a curse and capable of nothing else except killing.

How could he love? He was no man. He was Ryomen Sukuna, and that's all he would be known for. But he wanted you, your loving heart, your caring smile, the way you lit up his world in ways he never imagined.

And for the first time in his life, he felt tears fall from his eyes, the salty feeling biting at his cheeks as he kept looking for you through his blurred vision.

He found you once, didn't he? He'd just have to find you once more.

---

He made his way through an opening and saw the oak gates that lead to your village.

It had been days since he last went looking for you, and he was sure that this would be the place you could be. It had to be. he didn't know what to do if you weren't here.

As usual, he heard the screams of people when they saw the four-armed monster, but he ran everywhere he thought you would be, your old three wood house ruined from the last time he saw it.

And as he looked around more he stumbled into the town square, and in the middle, he saw the hanging post, people backing into their homes as he continued his search.

Sukuna was more and more lost as he looked around, ready to give up and go back in the forest when he saw a familiar flash of color.

Right there, in the middle of everybody, was you.

Your head hung down, a noose hanging from around your neck as you dangled in the air.

Time stopped as he made his way towards your body, heart stopping when he got to you.

For once, you were head to head with him without trying, but he didn't know what to do as he hung desperately to your chest, his arms encircling your waist as he held you tightly to him.

"Oh, Y/n," he muttered into your skin, your cold skin freezing his, "Oh, Y/n."

He read the sign to the side: Traitors and Killers, and he looked back at you. You were none of those things. You had never killed, and all you asked for in return was life.

Was that really a traitorous thing to ask for?

He took you down from the stand, carrying your body out of your village as he took you to the woods.

He stopped at the river, the same place he saw you for the first time, and began digging your grave.

There were many things he wish he had done differently. He wished he could have told you that he would have burnt the world down for you if you asked, that you held his heart in your hands and he had no intention of asking for it back.

But he couldn't and so all he could do was place little flowers around the soil in which you lied under.

When all you were was freshly dug dirt, he turned his back and made his way back to the village.

The sun shone the day he found you died, and the moon shone even brighter when he killed them all.


Tags :
1 year ago

đ˜Ș𝘯 đ˜­đ˜°đ˜·đ˜Š, đ˜Ș 𝘧𝘱𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘮 đ˜șđ˜°đ˜¶đ˜ł đ˜·đ˜Șđ˜€đ˜”đ˜Ș𝘼

summary: you see him a handful of times down by the river, washing off the bloodstains from his clothing and hands. you wonder to yourself how he could look so human in such a monstrous act. once he sees you he can’t get you rid of his mind.

paring: sukuna x f!reader

genre: angst, soft love, little bits of fluff, angst with no happy ending

warnings: blood, gruesome death, talks of sex and taking virginity, character death

word count: 7k+

jjk masterlist

—

image

—

“Do you intend on staring the entire time?”

The hair on your neck rose, your breath catching in your throat as you hear him call out.

Surely he couldn’t have seen you. You had tried to hide decently well into the background of the forest.

“Your act of concealment is rather pitiful, you know.” His voice disparaged you once more, and from the sliver of opening the bushes allowed you saw him look over his shoulder, staring directly at you as he raised an eyebrow.

“Come out, human.” You, for the first time, hear the real command in his voice, the one that terrified the men in your village, the ones who came back from battle and laid awake at night with it echoing in the solitude of their minds.

You gave it a couple seconds, and when you saw him vanish from the spot he had been near the river bank you panicked, looking around everywhere to see where he had gone.

You felt a rush of air wisp behind you, and you whipped your head around to see a large hand circle around your throat, long, claw-like nails digging into your skin as he effortlessly raised you from the ground.

You felt the voice in your head mock you for your stupidity, the idea alone of spying on the curse everybody feared an idiotic idea. But you were curious, too curious for your own good, and the first time you saw him you were fascinated.

Here he seemed like the monster everybody made him out to be. Blood from his previous victims splattered across his face, red eyes boring into yours as he assessed the person in front of him, large muscles flexing as he turned you around, gawking at you like an animal in a cage.

But the first time you saw him, he drew you in, and perhaps that would be the sole reason for your demise. The sun shone shined splendidly that day, reflecting off the water beneath him, his skin shining bright as he delicately cleaned his dirtied clothes in peace.

You hadn’t meant to run into him that day, but you couldn’t rest seeing him act so human, so normally, after every rumor, you had heard.

You now wish you had listened to them.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” He cocked his head to the side, eyebrow perched as you meekly grabbed at his hand, begging him to loosen his grip.

His eyes trailed down to your gaping mouth, eyes widening with the lack of air, and his grip loosed, dropping you roughly to the ground, giving you a couple of seconds to failingly come up on your arms, coughing as you rubbed weakly at your neck, trying to ease to soreness away.

He dropped down to his knees, crouching down at your side as he waited for you to recover, in no rush as you hacked away.

“I asked you a question.” He reminded you and you fearfully looked up, eyes filled with tears as you weakly nodded, your chapped lips trembling in dread.

“Is that a yes?” His lips upturned in a small and taunting smile, his sharpened teeth gleaming back at you as you gulped, clearing your throat as you tried your best to respond.

“Yes, yes,” You looked at the grass beneath you, anything but the figure of death in front of you, “I have been here before, my lord.“

He kept his eyes locked on yours, his look never shifting from one to the other, keeping natural as if to frighten you even more.

Would anybody care if you had been killed out in the woods today? Would anybody come looking if you went missing?

"Is it you who’s been watching me these past weeks?” He asked, and even on the ground sitting in front of you he shadowed your crumpled form, and you wiped some of the slobber from your lips before you spoke again.

“I apologize, my lord.” Your fingers shook far too much, could he tell? Could he see that your blood was freezing under your skin?

“May I ask what’s intrigued you so much to return?” You feel this breath on your cheeks, his nose close to yours as he leaned in, the air in your lungs seizing as you held it all to yourself.

Your fingers itched to grab the small bundle you had brought with you, the one you had failed to give these past weeks.

He watched the movement, his eyes quickly darting over to the small package concealed in a piece of dirtied cloth.

“Is this yours?” He reached over and grabbed it, examining its shabby shape as you meekly nodded once more, your mouth too dry to give him a proper response.

He glanced back over to you, truly studying you. Your clothes were dirty, mud and dirt clinging to your skin, holes littering the soles of your shoes. Your hair was clumped together and nails were outgrown from their beds.

He had been familiarized with the nearby village, having ransacked it multiple times. He knew the women well, their appearances were far more important than anything else. If you were from there it was obvious you were one of their outcasts, if the skin clinging to your bones would say anything.

He kept an eye on you as you coughed again, blood specking the palm of your hand as you wiped it on your pants, embarrassed and more honestly terrified to look at him, opting to gape at the ground.

He turned the lump of fabric around in his hand, weighing it and sniffing it as if to sense what was inside. A foul smell flew under his nose, and he winced as he quickly went to open it, his inquisitiveness taking over.

The fabric was flimsy and wasn’t tied hard enough, falling away as he peeled it back.

Small tomatoes and pieces of lettuce tumbled out, some parts of them molded as they fell to his feet.

“I apologize, my lord, they are not of the best quality.” You explained and he scoffed, taking the small vegetables and squishing it between his fingers, turning back to you as he took you by the collar, lifting it up so that you would be face to face with him.

“Were those for me?” His head tilted again, a small pout overtaking his smile as he watched you struggle to come up with words to say.

“Have you been watching me these past few weeks just to give me rotten vegetables?”

He watched in clear amusement as you sniffled, your eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, hands quivering as you kept them balled by your side.

“Did that really sound like a good idea to you?” His grip on your collar tightened, and you gasp as he lifted you once more, your feet dangling as you tried to get back down.

Sukuna looked at you, the tears welling in your eyes, the tomatoes, and lettuce as his feet looking back up at him as he strangled you, your fingers weakling attempting to grab at his clenching fists.

“I’m s-sorry,” You choked out, “It’s all I h-had.” Some bloodied spit landed on his face and he grimaced, dropping you immediately to wipe it off.

You couldn’t muster up a groan as you felt your ankle crack from the pressure, only having enough strength to try to crawl away.

This isn’t how you wanted to die, not alone and at the hands of the curse of death himself. Not when you wanted to see the countryside, to sail in those things they called ships. Not on the ground of a forest, you stumbled upon one day, your kind heart killing you eventually.

And all Sukuna did was watch the pitiful scene, eyebrows drawing together as he saw your crumpled form sit at the stump of a tree, your ankle bent the wrong way, your eyes barely open as you went in and out of consciences.

Who were you? Surely not a girl of any importance. He would have already bedded you had you been one. You were poor, perhaps worse than that, yet you managed to bring him portions of your food.

Even in the coldest of winters, he had watched the village chief struggle to give up a third of his meals to honor him, yet an insignificant girl like you who obviously needed the wasted vegetables more than anything was offering it to him.

Should he kill you here? Make it painless? It seemed that your health was already declining, your bloody coughs enough proof for him. He’d be putting you out of your misery if he did it now.

But walking towards you, his nails turned into the claws he was so used to, kneeling down once more to your slumped form, he couldn’t seem to do it.

You couldn’t even lift your head to beg for your life, but you tried to bring up your fist that paled in size to his, curling it around one of his fingers as you tried to push him away.

And his nails were right there, right at the base of your throat, ready to slit, but he felt the little bit of heat as you sickly gripped him, the little tear droplets wetting his skin as he retracted his hand.

He stared at the top of your head, watching as your hand fell to your side, your body too weak to keep it up anymore.

And he grumbled to himself, saying things such that he wasn’t fucking enough people and his mind was going crazy, cupping your knees as he lifted you gently up, supporting your head with the palm of his hand as he brought you back to the village.

He could have killed you even then as he was entering the gates, but you had held onto his shirt so tightly that he could barely lift his finger to do such a thing.

—

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Tags :
1 year ago

WHAT IS THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF ART!?!?

đ˜Ș𝘯 đ˜­đ˜°đ˜·đ˜Š, đ˜Ș 𝘧𝘱𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘮 đ˜șđ˜°đ˜¶đ˜ł đ˜·đ˜Șđ˜€đ˜”đ˜Ș𝘼

summary: you see him a handful of times down by the river, washing off the bloodstains from his clothing and hands. you wonder to yourself how he could look so human in such a monstrous act. once he sees you he can’t get you rid of his mind.

paring: sukuna x f!reader

genre: angst, soft love, little bits of fluff, angst with no happy ending

warnings: blood, gruesome death, talks of sex and taking virginity, character death

word count: 7k+

jjk masterlist

—

image

—

“Do you intend on staring the entire time?”

The hair on your neck rose, your breath catching in your throat as you hear him call out.

Surely he couldn’t have seen you. You had tried to hide decently well into the background of the forest.

“Your act of concealment is rather pitiful, you know.” His voice disparaged you once more, and from the sliver of opening the bushes allowed you saw him look over his shoulder, staring directly at you as he raised an eyebrow.

“Come out, human.” You, for the first time, hear the real command in his voice, the one that terrified the men in your village, the ones who came back from battle and laid awake at night with it echoing in the solitude of their minds.

You gave it a couple seconds, and when you saw him vanish from the spot he had been near the river bank you panicked, looking around everywhere to see where he had gone.

You felt a rush of air wisp behind you, and you whipped your head around to see a large hand circle around your throat, long, claw-like nails digging into your skin as he effortlessly raised you from the ground.

You felt the voice in your head mock you for your stupidity, the idea alone of spying on the curse everybody feared an idiotic idea. But you were curious, too curious for your own good, and the first time you saw him you were fascinated.

Here he seemed like the monster everybody made him out to be. Blood from his previous victims splattered across his face, red eyes boring into yours as he assessed the person in front of him, large muscles flexing as he turned you around, gawking at you like an animal in a cage.

But the first time you saw him, he drew you in, and perhaps that would be the sole reason for your demise. The sun shone shined splendidly that day, reflecting off the water beneath him, his skin shining bright as he delicately cleaned his dirtied clothes in peace.

You hadn’t meant to run into him that day, but you couldn’t rest seeing him act so human, so normally, after every rumor, you had heard.

You now wish you had listened to them.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” He cocked his head to the side, eyebrow perched as you meekly grabbed at his hand, begging him to loosen his grip.

His eyes trailed down to your gaping mouth, eyes widening with the lack of air, and his grip loosed, dropping you roughly to the ground, giving you a couple of seconds to failingly come up on your arms, coughing as you rubbed weakly at your neck, trying to ease to soreness away.

He dropped down to his knees, crouching down at your side as he waited for you to recover, in no rush as you hacked away.

“I asked you a question.” He reminded you and you fearfully looked up, eyes filled with tears as you weakly nodded, your chapped lips trembling in dread.

“Is that a yes?” His lips upturned in a small and taunting smile, his sharpened teeth gleaming back at you as you gulped, clearing your throat as you tried your best to respond.

“Yes, yes,” You looked at the grass beneath you, anything but the figure of death in front of you, “I have been here before, my lord.“

He kept his eyes locked on yours, his look never shifting from one to the other, keeping natural as if to frighten you even more.

Would anybody care if you had been killed out in the woods today? Would anybody come looking if you went missing?

"Is it you who’s been watching me these past weeks?” He asked, and even on the ground sitting in front of you he shadowed your crumpled form, and you wiped some of the slobber from your lips before you spoke again.

“I apologize, my lord.” Your fingers shook far too much, could he tell? Could he see that your blood was freezing under your skin?

“May I ask what’s intrigued you so much to return?” You feel this breath on your cheeks, his nose close to yours as he leaned in, the air in your lungs seizing as you held it all to yourself.

Your fingers itched to grab the small bundle you had brought with you, the one you had failed to give these past weeks.

He watched the movement, his eyes quickly darting over to the small package concealed in a piece of dirtied cloth.

“Is this yours?” He reached over and grabbed it, examining its shabby shape as you meekly nodded once more, your mouth too dry to give him a proper response.

He glanced back over to you, truly studying you. Your clothes were dirty, mud and dirt clinging to your skin, holes littering the soles of your shoes. Your hair was clumped together and nails were outgrown from their beds.

He had been familiarized with the nearby village, having ransacked it multiple times. He knew the women well, their appearances were far more important than anything else. If you were from there it was obvious you were one of their outcasts, if the skin clinging to your bones would say anything.

He kept an eye on you as you coughed again, blood specking the palm of your hand as you wiped it on your pants, embarrassed and more honestly terrified to look at him, opting to gape at the ground.

He turned the lump of fabric around in his hand, weighing it and sniffing it as if to sense what was inside. A foul smell flew under his nose, and he winced as he quickly went to open it, his inquisitiveness taking over.

The fabric was flimsy and wasn’t tied hard enough, falling away as he peeled it back.

Small tomatoes and pieces of lettuce tumbled out, some parts of them molded as they fell to his feet.

“I apologize, my lord, they are not of the best quality.” You explained and he scoffed, taking the small vegetables and squishing it between his fingers, turning back to you as he took you by the collar, lifting it up so that you would be face to face with him.

“Were those for me?” His head tilted again, a small pout overtaking his smile as he watched you struggle to come up with words to say.

“Have you been watching me these past few weeks just to give me rotten vegetables?”

He watched in clear amusement as you sniffled, your eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, hands quivering as you kept them balled by your side.

“Did that really sound like a good idea to you?” His grip on your collar tightened, and you gasp as he lifted you once more, your feet dangling as you tried to get back down.

Sukuna looked at you, the tears welling in your eyes, the tomatoes, and lettuce as his feet looking back up at him as he strangled you, your fingers weakling attempting to grab at his clenching fists.

“I’m s-sorry,” You choked out, “It’s all I h-had.” Some bloodied spit landed on his face and he grimaced, dropping you immediately to wipe it off.

You couldn’t muster up a groan as you felt your ankle crack from the pressure, only having enough strength to try to crawl away.

This isn’t how you wanted to die, not alone and at the hands of the curse of death himself. Not when you wanted to see the countryside, to sail in those things they called ships. Not on the ground of a forest, you stumbled upon one day, your kind heart killing you eventually.

And all Sukuna did was watch the pitiful scene, eyebrows drawing together as he saw your crumpled form sit at the stump of a tree, your ankle bent the wrong way, your eyes barely open as you went in and out of consciences.

Who were you? Surely not a girl of any importance. He would have already bedded you had you been one. You were poor, perhaps worse than that, yet you managed to bring him portions of your food.

Even in the coldest of winters, he had watched the village chief struggle to give up a third of his meals to honor him, yet an insignificant girl like you who obviously needed the wasted vegetables more than anything was offering it to him.

Should he kill you here? Make it painless? It seemed that your health was already declining, your bloody coughs enough proof for him. He’d be putting you out of your misery if he did it now.

But walking towards you, his nails turned into the claws he was so used to, kneeling down once more to your slumped form, he couldn’t seem to do it.

You couldn’t even lift your head to beg for your life, but you tried to bring up your fist that paled in size to his, curling it around one of his fingers as you tried to push him away.

And his nails were right there, right at the base of your throat, ready to slit, but he felt the little bit of heat as you sickly gripped him, the little tear droplets wetting his skin as he retracted his hand.

He stared at the top of your head, watching as your hand fell to your side, your body too weak to keep it up anymore.

And he grumbled to himself, saying things such that he wasn’t fucking enough people and his mind was going crazy, cupping your knees as he lifted you gently up, supporting your head with the palm of his hand as he brought you back to the village.

He could have killed you even then as he was entering the gates, but you had held onto his shirt so tightly that he could barely lift his finger to do such a thing.

—

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8 months ago

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 | 00

 | 00
 | 00

"You know what hurts the most? I've lost our children too...but you...you're still alive...and I've already lost you."

 | 00

synopsis: the chairman of the gojo group of companies, gojo satoru, is in need of an heir and quick. however, with a wife who is struggling to conceive and his subsequently crumbling marriage, he is forced to explore other options which now comes in the form of his wife's secretary.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

warnings: 18+ angst, smut, mentions of depression and miscarriage.

 | 00

You and Satoru Gojo are cursed.

Your marriage began to fracture the day you learned you could never have children, each passing moment turning your marriage into a silent battleground of unspoken regrets and fading hopes. People would tell you that it’s probably just bad luck or wrong timing and that sooner or later, you and your other half would be blessed with your hearts’ desires. All you had to do was wait for the right moment, but no one told you that you’d be waiting forever.

“Your tie is crooked again.”

You step into the now empty groomsmen suite where your husband is peering at himself in the mirror. Just a few years ago, he played the role of the groom, anxiously waiting for the hour he’d be linked to you forever. Now, he’s a groomsman in someone else’s wedding and hopefully a happier marriage.

Satoru looks up at the mirror to see you standing there as if on ceremony, waiting for him to invite you in. Ironically, that pretty much sums up your entire marriage: your shared heartbreak has become a gaping chasm between the two of you. You and Satoru could only hope that his sister’s wedding wouldn’t end up like yours – as lonely and quiet as a solitary mountain lake.

“I got it. You should head down with the other bridesmaids.” Satoru unloops his tie, his heart stubbornly refusing yours.

A numbness coats your veins when he simply gives up, and unbuttons his white collar for a more laid-back look instead, of course he’d rather do that — do anything else — than accept help from you, than speak more than two sentences to you, than be anywhere near you. That’s just how things are now after running head first into a happily ever after that was never going to come. “Fine. I’ll see you downstairs then.”

“Sure,” Satoru says nonchalantly.

He half-expected you to linger by the door for another minute, but his heart caves in when he sees you’ve simply left. But what did he expect? The void that exists between the two of you had grown too vast, and the brighter days of your marriage had been swallowed by the abyss of unmet expectations, and endless heartbreak. And now, all that’s left of the chaos is two lovers who have now ventured into the realm of reluctant strangers driven apart by fate.

Satoru walks over to the now closed door, and somehow sensing that you were still on the other side, he presses a hand to the cold wooden material, as if to say, “I’m still here.”

 | 00

He hears a soft sniffle, then the painful sound of your receding footsteps and Satoru is, for the first time in one thousand four hundred sixty one days of calling himself your husband, utterly alone.

“Time to go home,” Satoru says monotonously, his right hand buried in his pocket while his free one holds the now settled hospital bill. He looks at you blankly, almost as if he expected this. After all, when you showed him the positive pregnancy test fifteen weeks ago, unlike the preceding ones, Satoru didn’t bother to make it public.

“I-I’m so
” you trail off, your eyes brimming with tears. “...Sorry.”

“I know. You always are,” your husband curtly replies. He’s lost count of how many times you’ve been in this exact position: by your hospital bed with a medical abstract in his hand with the words “spontaneous miscarrriage” printed on it.

He was getting sick of it. It’s almost like a nightmare that never seems to end. This would have been your fifth child, and yet again, you and Satoru would never have the chance to hold them in your arms for even just a second until they’re brutally ripped away from you. He looks at you again and sighs when you don’t move a muscle, seemingly still in shock from the ordeal.

“If you’re not ready to go, I’ll just have our driver pick you up.”

“...Alright.”

“Okay.”

He turns to leave but then your broken voice cuts through the thick air of the hospital room. “Satoru
? You don’t blame me right?”

Satoru screws his eyes shut, that was the last question he wanted to answer. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he has never blamed you for miscarrying, that, in the four years since he married you and the four years he’s had to witness child after child slip through your fingers like it was never meant to be, he’s never felt a tinge of disappointment towards you.

He told you not to go to the dental mission today, since you were on strict bedrest with your placenta previa but you made all these bullshit reassurances that you weren't going to push yourself too hard. He wants to say that you should have been more careful, that you should have listened to him. Yet, even then, he also couldn’t bring himself to tell you, his poor wife, his hurting better half, all the resentment he’s been harboring, so, he does the only thing he can do.

He runs away, far away from you when you need him the most. You stifle a sob when he doesn’t even crane his head back to look at you like the act of doing so would make him sick. “Get some rest," he simply tells you, unaware that this would be the last real conversation you’d have for a while because the next two months would be weeks of gut-wrenching silence.

He was wrong, you think sullenly to yourself as he leaves you alone.

 | 00

Every day has already become unbearable for you, every breath has become debilitating. What right did you have to breathe when all your children, each one departing with a piece of your and Satoru’s hearts, had been denied that very right?

Looking back at it now, Sayuri’s wedding was just like yours. What else would you have expected considering that you helped with the preparations from the color scheme to the venue’s decorations? Sayuri valued your input, and with you, despite being the junior party, having gotten married first, surely, you must have known what you were talking about when it comes to weddings. Too bad you couldn’t say the same thing about knowing a thing or two about marriage.

As you watch the happy couple from the top table, you utter a silent prayer in your heart that Satoru’s sister will never have to face the trials you have faced.

Satoru stands up from his seat, guiding you to the top table with a hand on the small of your back to bid your farewells and final well wishes. “Sayuri, it’s getting late. Y/N and I should be heading back now.” A look of disappointment crosses Sayuri’s face but it is quickly overshadowed by understanding.

You watch with a small smile as your husband embraces his older sister, whispering something in her ear that causes her to land a jab on Satoru’s abdomen. Stepping forward, you kiss Sayuri’s cheek in a show of sisterly love. “Congratulations again, nee-san.”

“Thanks for helping out again, Y/N,” Sayuri says sweetly, utterly grateful to all the assistance you extended for her special day. “I’m hoping you’ll help me for my next event, right?”

You return her smile with a slight tilt of your head; the two of you have been friends long before Satoru came into the picture, what with her being your ever supportive senior in university. The trust that you forged with Sayuri is often a running joke in the Gojo family. It’s often said that you got your husband’s sister’s approval long before you even knew each other. And it was true. The way she has stood as an older sister figure for you even during your darkest days fighting your loneliest battles is something you will forever cherish.

Satoru casts a look at new brother-in-law who is busy mingling with his own family; he makes a face at his sister’s remark. “You’re already planning for a second wedding when you’ve only been married for six hours?” your husband playfully jokes about his sister’s very questionable comment.

Come to think of it, that’s the first time you’ve seen Satoru smile in a long while, and when he did, it had to be because he joked about the tricky business of remarriage. It pains you to think that he has smiled so seldomly that you’ve almost forgotten how he looks when he’s not in a constant state of silent detachment, oceans deep in his chemtrail of thoughts. You were glad you weren’t a mind reader, dreading hearing his thoughts aloud: his silent hatred of you, the final goodbye having already materialized and rehearsed millions of times in his mind.

But couldn’t he see that you were still trying? You desperately want to hold his hand in a silent oath: “I’m still here.” but you think better of it, fearing that you might just lose him altogether.

Then again, a ghost of a mirthless smile appears on your lips for a brief second, if there’s anything you were good at, it was losing people.

You are pulled out of your thoughts by Sayuri’s sarcastic laugh. “Ha-ha. If I’m lucky, this’ll be my only wedding.” She sticks her tongue out at Satoru who merely rolls his eyes in response. “Anyway, as I was saying,” she turns to you with a hesitant smile, mulling over if this was a good idea given your circumstances.

Just then, her husband cordially approaches the three of you. “Hey,” he greets his wife with an affectionate kiss. “I got you this,” he places a champagne flute in Sayuri’s hand. “Alcohol-free, I swear.”

Satoru’s face falls momentarily. How long has it been since he kissed his wife like that? No, how long has it been since you put up those unscalable walls around the fortress that is your heart, blocking him out at every corner? He glances your way in an attempt to search your face – for anything to reassure him that your marriage was still salvageable, for anything to let him know you and him were still worth saving – he isn’t even surprised when you instantly turn your gaze away from him.

Guess he got his answer.

“Did you tell them?” your new brother-in-law asks with the same trepidation in his tone as his wife’s.

You make the cardinal mistake of asking. “Tell us what?” you ask, puzzled.

The next few words hit you like a tidal wave. Your prayers of Sayuri never having to experience the anguish you felt have been answered, in place of your own unanswered prayers for yourself and Satoru.

“That
we’re expecting.”

You don’t even notice that you’ve already muttered out a brief: “O-oh. I’m
happy for you.” As you numbly offer Sayuri her congratulations, you think back to all the times you and Satoru have had to hear: “I’m so sorry for your loss”. It wasn’t fair how happiness almost always helplessly slips through your and Satoru’s fingers in the form of a silent heartbeat at twelve weeks, or a fertilized egg that never truly grows into an embryo.

If there really was such a thing as “hell” or “damnation”, then yours came in the form of an empty nursery, an empty stroller, unused onesies, unsung lullabies and unflipped bedtime story books.

Satoru handles the news with an agonizing grace, his voice gruff and raw with held back emotions. He clears his throat, repeating the congratulations. “How far along are you?” he asks his sister, his demeanor shrouded with a profound yearning for the same thing, if not for him, then for you because if anything, of all people, you deserve that kind of joy too. Maybe even more so than him. He was fine with just having his wife back, after all. The succession of the entire conglomerate would always come second to you.

Even if you didn’t know it. Even if you no longer cared to believe him.

“Eighteen weeks,” Sayuri answers quietly. “I-I was gonna ask if Y/N would be interested in helping out with the baby shower but, I’d understand if this feels like a bad idea–”

“--It’s okay,” you defensively cut off Sayuri, refusing to hear another word of pity, another syllable along the lines of: “I’m sorry.”. You’ve had enough of that. “I-I’d be happy to
really.”

With your unconvincing words, your quartet falls into a tense silence. You and Satoru don’t dare to stay long enough for either of them to try saving the conversation, so, with a polite and final few well-wishes, you leave. Just as the two of you settle into the backseat of his car for the return journey to Tokyo, tiny droplets of rain begin to collect on the windows.

“...Why can’t we be like that?” you break the overwrought silence with a genuine question, a slight tremble in your voice.

“We were like that too,” he replies almost nostalgically, recalling the many precious hushed conversations each night in your marital bed, the mornings when you and him gaze at the other’s sleeping form, thinking to yourselves how lucky you two were to have each other, the warmth that came with being so in love.

It was an age long abandoned.

Now, you two were silent, your conversations not extending past two brief sentences, your bed is now empty and cold, and your luck had run out the same way your love died out.

“Once.”

You spoke of your union as if it were a house of cards that’s been torn apart by the wind, the two of you are now all but decimated, to the point where one can only wistfully pine after what had been lost that can no longer be restored. And after the many arguments that had erupted between you and him, unbearably, this was the one thing you could never argue about.

Satoru nods, echoing your words with a heavy heart. “Yeah
once.”

 | 00

The fact is: no one knows what happened or rather, no one — not even your OBGYN — could have expected this. It was a normal day, you and Satoru, as excited parents-to-be, had booked the appointment and all the succeeding ones leading to your supposed due date ahead of time, so, you arrived at your usual schedule of 3:30 PM, and after a quick check of your vitals, the OB moves to conduct the standard ultrasound.

As you move to lie down on the bed, it seems you’ve only just noticed the bag Satoru was carrying. You look at it curiously. “What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the moss green canvas bag on his lap.

“Your hospital bag,” Satoru says enthusiastically, already opening it. “See? I packed three pairs of socks for you, a sweater, your lip balm, hairbrush, lotion and — why are you laughing?” he asks when you snort with laughter. The OB is also shaking her head in amusement. Clearly, your oblivious husband kinda missed the memo.

“Babe,” you explain amidst your giggles. “I’m not having the baby today.”

“What do you mea—oh,” He awkwardly looks at the hospital bag. Satoru Gojo, the owner of the ever powerful Gojo conglomerate, the darling of Kabutocho and the Nikkei Index, a holder of a dual degree in finance and business analytics, further supplemented with an MBA from Wharton, looks flustered. He had forgotten that he’s only supposed to bring that during the delivery.

The OB chuckles as she lifts your shirt up to squeeze some of the ultrasound gel on the taut skin of your still mostly flat but slightly swollen belly. “Seems dad was a bit too excited,” she remarks. You shift at the cold gel, but relax after a while.

“Well, it’s our first, after all,” you glance at Satoru with a warm smile. He brings your hand to his lips and he sits down on the chair, his eyes altering between you and the monitor. You squeeze his hand as the probe glides over your midriff. The image shifts slightly on the screen and the OB zooms in on the small image of your baby.

She makes a note of the growth. “6.0 centimeters at 12 weeks,” the OB says, pleasantly surprised. “Now, would the two of you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?”

You and Satoru share a brief look of happiness and nod simultaneously.

Instantly, images of what life would look like from now on flash in your minds: Satoru would constantly be chasing after the little tornado that would be your child, while you’d be too busy cleaning up after the mischievous duo. If it’s a girl — which is Satoru’s preference but he’ll never actually say that out loud — Satoru would be almost always willing to indulge them. Their little girl needs your lipstick to give her daddy a makeover? Say no more, he’s already rummaging through your makeup bag. Oh, she wants a tiara? He’s already on the phone with his ex-fling who also happens to be Swarovski’s top designer to commission a tiara piece for his little princess.

And honestly, the same can be said for you if the baby does turn out to be a boy. It would be a joy to have a little Satoru of your own. You’d shower them with kisses every morning, and every night before he went to sleep, never shying away from letting him know how much you love him.

Or at least that was the plan.

Call it a mother’s intuition but something doesn’t feel right. Worry pricks at your entire being when all you can hear is the drone-like hum of the examination room’s AC unit, the frequency adjustment of the ultrasound machine and the sound of your own hearts breaking at the sound of silence.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo—”

“—What’s happening?” you ask frantically, your head abruptly lifting from the pillow in alarm to look at the screen. “What’s happening, ‘Toru? Why can’t I hear anything?” you look to Satoru for answers — no, perhaps you knew the answer all along — you simply looked at him, pleading with him to tell you that this wasn’t real, that you’ve probably just gone momentarily deaf or something, and that by some miracle, your baby was still there.

But as Satoru simply purses his lips, gently easing you back onto the bed, his eyes brimming with tears that were now falling in the crook of your neck, silently sobbing into your shoulder with you. You could faintly hear the OB amidst your sobs already paging the hospital pharmacy for a prescription of Mifepristone and Misoprostol to assist with emptying your womb. Not that it wasn’t already empty to begin with now that your baby is gone, and all they’ve left in their wake is a void in their parent’s hearts and a sense of confusion.

Why? Why did they just up and leave like that before you even got to hold them, to see their tiny face as they sleep in their hospital bassinet next to your bed? Did your baby somehow sense that you and Satoru would be horrible parents? Were you unworthy of their love, so unworthy that you’d never get to meet them?

“Shh, shh,” Satoru tries to soothe you in spite of his own turmoil, the thought of losing the baby too heavy on his mind to do anything other than attempt to comfort you. “I’m here
I’m right here.”

He was right. You both were still here but gazing back at the black and white image of your now sleeping angel, you’ll just have to learn to accept that they aren’t.

 | 00

Satoru has been acting strange all day.

For one, he sent you a good morning text message wishing you luck with your patients today just as you were about to change into your scrubs when you arrived at your dental clinic in Tokyo Midtown, and just after receiving that message, your secretary, Kozue, happily enters your office with your takeaway coffee in one hand and a small gift box in the other.

“You know, Mr. Gojo would be a horrible secret admirer,” she remarks simply, placing the box above the patient records you were reviewing.

“Why is that?” you ask, finishing up on your 9:00 patient’s appointment sheet.

Kozue gestures to the Bvlgari logo on the small box. “He clearly has a thing for high-end jewelry brands, it’s either he sends you Bvlgari or Swarovski.” You breathe a small laugh at her keen observation.

“Looks like your observation skills are improving, pretty soon, I might just assign a patient to you,” you joke. “Anyway, it’s our fifth anniversary today, hence the gift-giving. I left him a new pair of Giorgo Armani loafers on the closet display this morning.”

“You two are so extra,” Kozue chortles. “My boyfriend and I don’t get to do all this.”

You nod sympathetically. “When’s he coming back again?” you ask as you carefully open the box to reveal a pair of Serpenti Seduttori diamond earrings with a blue sapphire on the head. Kozue watches you try them on with a soft smile on her face, it’s not often anyone gets to see you put your hair down.

“Around next year,” Kozue gushes. “But honestly, well, uh
don’t freak out, but—”

“—You plan to join him in Chicago once he gets his MBA,” you answer for her.

You’ve seen her often searching for apartments in the South Loop, indicating her future plans to leave the clinic and the country altogether for greener pastures overseas. You know that the long distance relationship has been hard for her, often using her breaks to speak with her boyfriend on the phone just as he’s about to turn in for the night.

It’s almost funny to think about: that Kozue and her lover, despite being forced into a long distance relationship due to their differing circumstances, were just about as close as literal soulmates get, while you and Satoru live together and yet you’re worlds away from each other.

But whatever, some people just get dealt a better hand.

“It’s alright. I really don’t mind if this would be our last year working together if it means you get to pursue your happiness elsewhere. The clinic is nothing compared to the world, after all.”

Kozue nods in thanks. This is just another one of the many things she admires you for. She knows that she isn’t as tenured as the rest of the dentists in the clinic, and honestly, she didn’t have a doctorate in dentistry either, but you still trusted her enough to be your secretary, and you never made her feel that she was in any way inferior to you or anyone else — it’s all just part of your caring nature even if you do have

“Now, you’re just making me wanna stay even more, boss,” Kozue pretends to wipe a tear from her eye, making you laugh.

Her loyalty is always something you’re grateful for and quite frankly, you couldn’t imagine the clinic functioning as well as it is without her. Sure, sometimes she’s annoyingly optimistic sometimes and just unbearably too happy in the mornings, but you had to hand it to her, in an office full of sleep-deprived dentists like yourselves, Kozue’s infectious enthusiasm is probably just as essential as good quality coffee beans. She always knows when to cheer everyone up, especially you.

“Well, that’s great, since you always know how to get me out of a tight spot,” you half-joke.

“Always!” she holds up her thumb in affirmation. The intercom suddenly pages her and she checks her watch. “Looks like our first patients are coming in, I’ll see you later. And happy anniversary to the two of you!”

The rest of the afternoon rolls by uneventfully and before you know it, Satoru is already picking you up from work like he always does except this time, he’s carrying a bouquet of pink camellias.

He removes his sunglasses just as he steps into the building and you stand there for a bit, a little starstruck.

It’s no secret that your husband is good-looking, but it feels like an eternity since you’ve actually properly regarded him. It’s like seeing him for the first time all over again: your heart thumps in your chest and a blush creeps onto your cheeks. How long has it been since you’ve felt this way? Since the two of you spent time with each other? Since you both made a courageous effort to mend the gap between you and him?

Satoru also stands there, relief washing over him when he notices you wearing the earrings he got you. “Hey,” he greets, striding over to you. The bouquet is placed into your waiting hands and you feel you’ve been swept off your feet when he leans down to press a soft yet somehow yearnful kiss on your forehead.

“Hi
” You shyly greet your husband like he’s some guy you met on a blind date. You then realize he’s wearing the Armani shoes you got him. “Do they fit well?”

What kind of a question is that? Satoru is a size twelve and a half, you should know your husband the same way he should know how his wife prefers pearls over sapphire.

Satoru forces a wry smile. The shoes do feel a little pinchy but you didn’t need to get the impression that he doesn’t appreciate your gift. “Yeah, they’re great.” He glances at the earrings with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”

“Tell that to the patient who thought I was a mushroom when I gave them nitrous oxide earlier,” you chuckled. Satoru snorted in laughter at that. “Happy anniversary, ‘Toru,” you whispered.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N,” he pulls you into a tight hug, and your heart swells with an uneasy but welcome joy.

Your arms instinctively wrap around your husband’s form which Satoru responds to with an indiscernible sniffle. The walk to the car is quiet but not tense and maybe not peaceful either, years of emotional distancing are not easily forgotten after all. But — you look at your and Satoru’s interlocked hands, noting how for once, it felt like they fit a little more perfectly together right now more than ever — maybe it’s a start.

 | 00

There’s a saying that goes: “There is no calamity greater than lavish desires. There is no greater guilt than discontentment. And there is no greater disaster than greed.” In a game of poker, it’s said the winner is the first to rise once he gets his betting sum back, and in chess, oftentimes it is the aggressive players that slaughter pawn after pawn who do not realize their own territory has already been infiltrated by their opponent.

With that being said, you shouldn’t have pushed it. You should have been content with the small yet meaningful progress you and Gojo made. After a night out at Tokyo’s Stellar Sky Garden Lounge, the two of you practically stumble back into the penthouse in an intense haze of lust, desire and a banal and reckless greed. In Satoru’s defense, with the way that you were responding to his touch, tilting your head back to expose the delicate flesh of your neck as he nips on the skin like a man possessed, he thought that, at the very least, you were ready to be intimate with him after what felt like an eternity of you choosing to sleep in the guest room rather than your marital bed.

“H-Hah–S-Satoru, mnhh
”

Satoru expertly wraps his lips around your nipple, suckling at it, his nose tickling your mound. His other hand catches your other tit, squeezing at the tender nub eliciting a languid moan from your lips. “Shhh,” he releases your nipple momentarily, his tongue flicking against the bud. “Let me take care of you, babe
”

His hand trails down to your core, collecting your slick, rubbing up and down your slit, plunging a finger inside. He bites his lip at your warmth, he could already feel your familiar and tight walls. And he wasn’t even inside you yet. The thought of being inside you again sends a shiver of excitement down his spine, and he pushes you onto the soft mattress.

It’s been two years since your last miscarriage, two whole years that you’ve denied him of sexual intimacy. And Satoru doesn’t blame you. Having to endure loss after loss, it was expected that you’d withdraw into yourself, closing everyone off as you healed. But can’t you see he was hurting too? That he has wept too? That he also has his own fair share of damp tear-stained pillows? That he has, on many occasions, locked himself in his C-suite office after having had to endure another sleepless night of your relentless sobs in the other room?

He looks into your hooded eyes, and he sees the future you two have lost: you carrying his baby in your arms, cooing to them as you bounce them gently in your arms – now, Satoru isn’t religious, but that image is his heaven. Burying his length into your cunt, he chokes, letting out a pleasured groan that mixes with your own breathless whine. Soon, the bedroom is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he pounds into you at a desperate pace.

On your end, with every roll of his hips, tears prick your eyes.

This feels wrong.

No, this feels excruciating and terribly hollow. He’s never touched you like this. Sex with Satoru was always passionate, and loving. His hands would always intertwine with yours as he catches your lips in a searing kiss. He’s never like this. His captivating sapphire eyes held a loneliness to them.

As he’s bullying your cunt, you could feel yourself sinking into oblivion.

“Aah–” Satoru groans softly, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as looking at you was so painful for him right now. He doesn’t want to hate you, but he seems unable to love you all the same. What should he do? What can he do?

Suddenly, as he’s approaching his high, his hips melding into yours a little more forcefully and erratically, a dam of tears bursts wide open and you push back against him.

“Mm
’m getting close–ngh—gonna make you a mommy again, all round with my baby, you like that huh?” Satoru lifts your legs to his shoulders, thrusting into your weeping pussy, oblivious to the turmoil in your head. Two seconds ago, you wanted this. Now, you feel like you were gonna be sick at his ramblings of getting you pregnant again.

Fuck. You can’t do that anymore: getting pregnant and being led to believe that by some miracle, you’ll carry to term. Please just make it end.

“Satoru, d-don’t–ngh–p-please stop–”

“Shhh, ah
Y/N
gonna cum
gonna give you my baby—agh–”

He doesn’t seem to hear you. No, he pretends not to hear you outrightly rejecting him.

On your end, you felt like you were dying, with the overwhelming self-loathing in your heart, you couldn't even see Satoru’s desperate effort to restore the normal intimacy you two shared during the early parts of your marriage. But you didn’t care. Satoru didn’t deserve to make love to someone who’s already gone, to stick around for someone who can’t give him the happiness he deserves.

“Satoru, PLEASE STOP!”

“Fuck!” Satoru pulls out mid-thrust. Your heart clenches when he looks like he’s been slapped right across the face. He hastily finishes himself off and upon his release, he groans in frustration. He should have known you’d be this way. And fuck, he was angry at you. He was angry at himself for stupidly hoping that things were gonna get better. “You’re impossible!” he fumed, already pulling on his clothes, ready to abandon you.

“Satoru, wait! Where are you going?!” you pull the blanket to your chest, draping yourself as you follow him to the door.

“Anywhere! Anywhere but here!”

“You’ve never been here!” You accuse him without thinking and instant regret overruns you when Satoru lets out a scoff of disbelief. “Satoru, wait, I’m sorry!”

“Never?” Satoru’s jaw tenses. “What do you mean I wasn’t here?” He’s on the edge of losing it completely now. You had some nerve accusing him of that when he had to pick up the pieces — your pieces, the pieces of this shattered marriage. “Say it again, Y/N. Tell me exactly how I was never here.”

It was wrong of you to say that.

Painful memories begin flashing into your mind like a tragic montage: the uneaten and cold tray of food Satoru would leave outside the guest bedroom for you on the hardest and loneliest days of your life, the many instances he’s had to coax you to get out of bed by taking you to the places the two of you used to love, the countless nights he’s had to hold you, staying awake to hush you when you wake up sobbing from another nightmare.

“Satoru, no, I–I didn’t mean
that
”

He turns around to look you in the eyes, rage seeping through his usually calm ocean orbs. “You didn’t mean that? You sure sounded like you did!” He takes a step towards you, and you inch backwards, drawing your gaze to your feet in shame. “It’s fucking amazing how you don’t ‘mean to’ do anything! You didn’t mean to stand me up during our anniversary date last year too, the same way you didn’t mean to start sleeping in the guest bedroom every night–”

You flinch at the accusation dripping from his voice as he unloads all his heartache on you. “Stop
please stop–”

“And let me guess you didn’t mean to lose our children too!”

Your hand connects with his cheek and Satoru is stunned. Not at your slap. But at the vile words that just left his throat. He stares at you in shock, guilt written all over his face.

“Don’t you dare bring our children into this. You think this has been easy on me? Feeling a little life grow everyday in your womb only for them to just
be gone
one day when you wake up? You don’t know how difficult it is to lose a child!”

“And you don’t know how difficult it is to lose your wife!” Satoru retorts, his voice thick with exhaustion.

His eyes bear the scars of your shared heartbreak. He knows you’ve been struggling. Truly he does. And he wants nothing more than to take all your pain away from you, to spare you from the hell that you’ve been unfairly sentenced to. But why can’t you realize that you aren’t the only wounded party here?

“And you know what hurts the most?” His eyes gleamed with unshed tears, his voice cracking mid-sentence.

His gaze falls to the locket that held a small sonogram picture of your would have been fourth child which you wore everyday.

“I lost our children too. I grieved for them too. But you
you’re still alive but I’m already grieving for you like I've already lost you.”

Satoru doesn’t return to the bedroom again that night and the next morning, you both awake to a wedding portrait that now. sheltered a heartbroken wife’s teardrop stains, and a box full of baby items for disposal packed by a husband who has now, by all intents and purposes, given up.

 | 00

Satoru slips out to the five star hotel's rooftop for some much needed air. Hopefully none of these pesky journalists saw him on his way here. But that probably just comes with the whole experience of celebrating the conglomerate's tenth anniversary. He finds you in the garden, seated on a bench next to a potted plant. Satoru approaches you quietly, sitting down next to you. "I thought I'd find you up here."

"Hmm? Yeah, it was starting to feel suffocating in there," you chuckled. "I think it was nice of you to choose the Tokyo Children's Hospital as this year's beneficiary," you nudge him lovingly. You were already excited for the upcoming courtesy visit and celebratory turnover of the 20 million yen donation from the Gojo clan's multinational conglomerate.

Satoru plants a loving kiss on your temple, pulling you close to his form, his head resting atop yours. It's been a year since you've gotten married and already, people were already getting antsy for a baby, but maybe none as anxious as your families who are more than excited to have a new little one running around their respective estates. "So, walk me through the event next week. What have you got planned?" he asks you candidly about your plans for the turnover.

"Well, I already contacted a catering company for the children's party, oh and of course, there'll be games and storytelling sessions," you share eagerly. "I even hired a magician and facepainter!"

Satoru hums at your plans. "Of course, it can't be a children's party without some facepainting action."

"You know facepainting isn't limited to children," you flash him an impish grin. Understanding the implication of your words, Satoru immediately shakes his head in adamant refusal. "Oh come on, as the Gojo Group of Companies's chairman, you have to lead by example, right?"

"They aren't my employees!" Satoru laughs. Before you could even pull your signature pout, he pecks your cheek. "But if that's what my wife wants, then, I'll have them paint my pretty white hair too."

You laugh along with him, sighing contentedly at this peaceful moment. "Hey, Satoru? Why don't we...make them a part of the permanent beneficiary list?" you suggest quietly. "I mean, we still have some room for them, right?"

Satoru contemplates the possibility of having the Tokyo Children's Hospital as a permanent beneficiary of the Gojo Group, yet, he agrees nonetheless. "You know what? I don't see why not, I'll be sure to talk to PR about it," he smiles softly. "We can even make it a tradition - having a fun get-together with the kids and their parents." Satoru's heart swells at the idea of one day bringing your own child along to these events, teaching them the importance of being altruistic and compassionate to others. You nod, seemingly sharing his thoughts. "Maybe someday, we can bring our own little one into the mix."

You nod against Satoru's warm embrace with a wistful smile dancing on your lips. "I'd like that. Logistically, it'd be faster for the two of us to distribute the goodie bags if we had an extra little pair of hands."

"It's a plan then," Satoru concurs joyfully.

——————

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Tags :
1 year ago

For You (Gojo x Reader)

What if you were sealed instead of Gojo?

CW: Shibuya Incident spoilers, angst, not canonically accurate (just roll with it for the plot it doesn't have to make complete sense), swearing, so much angst

Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

For You (Gojo X Reader)

Gojo knew that you were strong. He wouldn't have fallen in love with you out of fear if he didn't trust completely in your ability to return to him.

But that was before.

Before the shell of someone the two of you once knew and loved appeared.

Before he allowed himself to be distracted for a split second.

Before you noticed what was happening and shoved him out of the way.

Before you stood in front of him, hands bound behind your back, body rendered immobile.

"Well, this is an interesting development."

Not-Suguru clapped his hands together.

"Oh well, this will do too. Actually, we just managed to nab the strongest's only weakness: his love."

"Who are you?"

You snarl, glaring at your former friend.

"Why, I'm Geto Suguru. Don't you remember me? I'm wounded."

"Bull. Shit."

All Gojo can do is stare blankly at you, and pray that this isn't happening. That one of his worst nightmares isn't playing out in front of him.

"I know damn well that Suguru would never go out of his way to hurt us. He may have hated non-sorcerers, but even at the end he held no hostility towards us. So I'll ask you again. Who are you?"

"Satoru."

Gojo jumped a little, but quickly smoothed his expression over as you used one of your techniques to communicate telepathically with him.

"You need to run."

No! He wanted to scream. There has to be another option.

You continue taunting and yelling at the creature inhabiting your friend's body, and Gojo realizes that you are desperately stalling for time.

"Listen, I know you don't want to. But right now, you can't do anything for me without putting yourself in serious danger. I'm expendable."

Not to him, you aren't. For you, he would tear apart the world with his bare hands. For you, there wasn't a risk he wouldn't take. He has to find a way out of this. For you. Because there was no world where you were fucking expendable to him.

"You need to run! Now! I don't know how much time you have, but I know you can make it outside. You are the strongest after all. Run. Regroup with the others."

He knows that what you are saying makes logical sense, but he still can't wrap his mind around it.

Then you spoke again.

"No one should be allowed to take youth away from young people. That's what we agreed, right? So go. Do it for our kids. Protect their youth. For them. For our dream. For me."

Quietly, oh so quietly, he says something.

"I'm scared."

He admits, so quiet you can scarcely hear him.

"I'm not."

Your tone is gentle and loving.

"You aren't abandoning me forever. This is only temporary. I know that no matter what happens, you will get me out of here. Not because you're the strongest or anything. Because you love me, and I love you. And nothing can keep us apart, 'kay?"

Moving as much as your restraints would allow you, you turn your head the tiniest bit so you can look at him.

"Go. Go save our kids. I believe in you. I'll see you soon my love."

Holding back tears, Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive did the unthinkable.

Turning away from you and speeding up and out of the train station was the hardest thing he ever did, and will ever do.

But he did it.

For your many (unofficially) adopted children.

For your shared dream.

For you.

Always for you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☜ àŒ“ ☟ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

This physically pained me to write, but it was taking up WAY too much of my brain space lol. Let me know what you think, and feel free to send in any requests you have!


Tags :
1 year ago

'Ex' husband Gojo

'Ex' Husband Gojo

Synopsis: The story of a broken marriage of the strongest sorcerer Gojo Satoru and his wife, Gojo y/n.

Tags: Minors do not interact, Gojo x female reader, mutual pining, established relationship, angst, slight smut, fluff, smoking, alcohol, self harm and more+. Please read tags carefully before interacting.

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'Ex' Husband Gojo

○ 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐹𝐧 01 ○

◇ Beginning of the End

◇ You and I

◇ Better without me

◇ The Aftermath-- 01........... , 02..........

◇ Is that it?

◇ coming soon!!

'Ex' Husband Gojo

Tags :
1 year ago
Word Count: 2.7k

Word count: 2.7k

Category: Angst, Smut

Warnings: smut, a bit of rough sex ig, reader is sad tm, cult leader geto, an awful lot of dog metaphors, veeeery slight masochism but not really explicit. Takes place eight years after Geto left but reader's age is not stated.

Summary: When Suguru left, a part of you went with. It's not a surprise, that eight years after, you still come crawling back to him.

***

When Suguru left, a part of you went with. The school years spent together passed by in a flash and then he was gone without saying goodbye. No words, no letter, not even a short message to your phone. The wallpaper was still set to the picture of the two of you. He wasn’t smiling in that one. When was the last time he did? The more you study the phone screen, the more your hands tremble. His skin looks pale, the bags under his eyes holding all the colors of the night sky. How could you not notice? How could you possibly be that stupid? How were the signs so glaringly obvious yet slipped past your radar?

You were too happy, your brain suggested. Lost in the bliss, living in the soft summer days, only noticing that you had nothing warm to wear when winter came along suddenly. Shoko had told you not to blame yourself, yet you noticed that she had started smoking way more. You were often with her, when she allowed the nicotine to surround the air around you, letting the bright red cherry tip burn right to the filter. Those moments were quiet most of the time.

Satoru didn’t say anything to you, during that time. You often wondered if he was hurting more than you. If the guilt ate him completely instead of chipping away as it had on you. You wondered if he had any tears left to shed. Yours seemed never-ending.

You also wondered what your friends (if you could still call them that, after so many years of no contact) would think of you if they saw you like this. Hair matted with sweat and sticking to your forehead, skin clammy and flushed, eyes rolled to the back of your head and countless loads of cum decorating your pliant body.

Right now, Suguru had you on all fours, back arched harshly, his large, unforgiving hand aiding the pose with a tight hold on your hair, the other resting on your hip with a bruising grip. His hips were unrelenting in their pursuit of his pleasure, almost punishing with how harsh they were. Your body bounced back and forth with each mean thrust, your hands fisting the silk sheets until the knuckles turned white.

You squirm forward a little and his strong body chases right after. His lean, toned body leans on yours, more weight landing on you, his soft hair forming a dark halo around you.

“Not trying to run from me, are you, darling?” His voice is dark and a little breathy.

A soft grunt slips past his glossy lips and you still, taking and taking and taking until there’s nothing but him. His clean, woody scent surrounding you, his silky hair tickling at the sensitive skin of your neck and his huge cock tearing away at your insides.

“N-no. Sorry.”

You’re surprised by the breathlessness of your own voice, sounding so far away. Geto rewards you with a content hum as he kisses the shell of your ear with befitting gentleness. The only sound besides your own deep breaths is the loud squelching of your awfully wet cunt.

It’s not like he hasn’t prepared you. He spent what seemed like hours between your legs, dark hair pulled into a bun because he didn’t like distractions while doing the thing he enjoyed most. He dangled your pleasure just in front of you, only allowing you to cum when you begged real pretty and tear tracks embedded themselves into the soft skin of your cheeks. After that, he had stretched you out with his fingers, cooing at you almost mockingly when three seemed to be too much. And they were, they really were with how long, thick and calloused they were and yet-

Nothing ever prepared you to take his cock, not even when you were dripping, messing up his expensive sheets. He was massive — long, and thick and slightly curved to the side, hitting all the right spots instantly yet never fully fitting inside.

“No? Seemed that way, doll.”

Another kiss, this time to your exposed neck, before his thrusts pick up speed. It’s nasty and loud, yet missing the usual sound of hips connecting that most often came along with sex. Those two last inches never did fit, much to his displeasure.

Suguru angles his hips in a way that hits that spot deep inside, the one that despite countless times of trying, no else was able to hit in the way he was. You keen loudly, burying your head into the bedsheets and sniffling loudly, hands clawing around in search of reprieve.

Suguru grants you that one relief, the hand that was knit tightly into your hair finally leaving and intertwining with yours, fingers squeezing tightly, as if he was the one afraid to let go. His thrusts are still mean. Now, that he had finally granted you the pleasure of feeling his cock against that one sensitive spot, he abused the newfound power over and over and over again.

“You close, love? Tell me how it feels.”

His voice is sweet and as smooth as honey. The word “love” feels like venom dripping from his perfect lips. Another mean thrust and you’re keening, thoughts jumbled in your head, saliva dripping down your chin as if it’s your brain leaking out.

“Feels, ngh- Feels soo- Suguru!”

He actually laughs, sound melodic and heavenly. He’s a god above you, a vision of utter perfection, and you’re a mortal, on your knees in his temple, begging for reprieve, for pleasure, for him.

“Use your words, dear. Can you do that for me?”

It’s completely condescending. The only thing that’s betraying how tight you’re squeezing him is the slight grunts he allows to slip past. He had nothing to hide from you, anyway. Who would you tell, when you were so afraid of admitting that you shared your bed with him?

“M-mhm, wanna be good. Feels, ah, feels good-“

His thrusts slow and you can’t find it in yourself to feel bad for actually whining at the loss of friction. He’s a henchman and you’re the victim, willingly walking to him and laying yourself under the shining silver of the axe. Nothing seems to matter anymore, save for your pleasure.

Your hips buck back, trying to get him to speed his thrusts back again, but Suguru is not the one to give in that easy. His hand still on your hip tightens, fingers curling in a way that’s sure to leave bruises, that’s sure to leave his mark.

“You can do better. You want to come, don’t you, darling? Yeah, you do
 So do better for me. Talk all pretty, okay?”

And how can you refuse Suguru, when he asks like that?

“You’re s-so big and n-no one else can fuck me like tha-that. I love your cock, love to fe-feel it in me, love the way i-it hu-hurts and lo-love you, ah-!” words tumble past your lips as fast as running water, afraid to disappoint him, afraid for him to leave.

Finally, finally his hips pick up their speed, the hand that was just squeezing your hip now slithering under your body and finding that little bundle of nerves in an instant. He seems to have no trouble playing you like an instrument, his practiced fingers drawing tight, fast circles on your clit. You just do your duty, keeping your back arched, your hips thrusting back to meet his movements.

It doesn’t take long for your vision to completely black out, screams and moans and little ramblings leaving your spit-soaked lips. Suguru aids you through your orgasm, never ceasing his movements against your clit. He gifts you with a couple more shallow thrusts before he’s pulling out with a soft grunt. In a moment, you feel the warmth of his cum hitting your back and your knees finally give out, body splayed out on the bed.

Suguru rolls over in order not to crush you, his own breaths labored and loud. You spend a long moment just catching your breath, head turning to the side and drinking in his painfully pretty features. The arch of his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, his tired, dark eyes and his mused hair.

“You confessing your love for me was not something I had expected tonight.” He answers with a chuckle, your name slipping past his lips unprompted. No matter how soft it is, it still sounds foreign.

“It was just a slip of a tongue.” You reply, still studying each movement of his body. He was still so coordinated and delicate in his maneuvers, as if the intense session before didn’t tire him out at all.

“Some phrase about a cat and it being out of the bag seems to come to my mind.” Suguru chuckled, before standing up and disappearing for a moment.

He comes back with a wet towel, wiping away at the mess between your legs and then carefully caressing your back, removing all evidence of what has happened before. He puts it away immediately, always the one to stick to neatness and tidiness.

“Why didn’t you just finish inside? It’s less messy and I’m on birth control.” You find yourself mumbling the words. Perhaps you just missed his warmth, craving it to be so deep inside you that even after you left, some part of him still lingered.

Suguru hums softly, pulling you into his strong arms. His skin is warm against yours. He’s still naked, his chest pressed up against your back. It feels right. Like that’s the way it should have always been.

“Admittedly, I am not that possessive, darling. You can fuck whoever you like, someone who fits your moral compass and all that. I don’t need to cum inside to prove that you’re mine.”

He’s always so nonchalant about this. Like he’s absolutely sure that you would always come crawling back, even if it resulted in bruised knees and absolute banishment of your dignity. It hurt that it wasn’t exactly wrong.

“It seems that no one fits my moral compass nowadays. Perhaps I am getting too picky.” You answered quietly, softly. The smell of sex was still heavy in the air.

Suguru brushes figures into the skin of your arms, making your body instantly relax in his strong arms. It shouldn’t feel so safe. Not when the blood of so many people stain every inch of his skin. You can’t find it in yourself to mind. He had never hurt you, at least, not physically. The emotional damage was something you preferred to think about over a nice bottle of wine, alone.

“Perhaps you are. Or maybe we are just two sides of the same coin. I cannot seem to find someone who’s presence satisfies me as much as yours, either.

His words never fail to make you blush. You’re not a school girl anymore, it shouldn’t affect you at all, let alone this much and yet, when it’s Suguru, nothing is off the table.

“We are not the same and never will be.” You find the strength within yourself to answer. The words are weak and uncertain.

“Oh, are we not?” He answers immediately, the movements of his nimble fingers ceasing for a moment before continuing their path down your arms. He’s soothing you, you realize. How stupid. As if you ever needed that. As if he actually know how much you did.

“What are you implying, Suguru?” You ask, and your head finds it’s way to rest on his chest. Suguru finally relaxes, as if it was him who craved it instead of you.

“I will never change my ideals and yet you still crawl back to me like an obedient little dog.” He lets the words linger in the silence of his bedroom for a moment, “You will never change yours and yet I welcome you back into my arms each time.”

“Comparing me to a dog now?” Is all you manage for an answer.

The words have no real bite behind them. A metaphor of a dog with no teeth comes to your mind briefly. You are a scared animal, cornered in somewhere, just waiting for a hand that will feed instead of hitting. Suguru embodies both.

“That’s not what you should be focusing on. And that wasn’t even my point.” He waves you off with a gentle flick of his wrist.

“Spit it out.”

“We were doomed from the day we first met. It was meant to be happen this way.” He begins, and you can’t begin to understand what he’s getting at. Suguru often got philosophical after sex, “I believe it was Emil M. Cioran, who said “If you are doomed to devour yourself, nothing can keep you from it: a trifle will impel you as much as a tragedy. Resign yourself to erosion at all times: your fate wills it so.”

“Are you saying that there was nothing that I could have done to prevent you from leaving? That you are devouring yourself?” the words taste bitter on your tongue.

“I’m saying exactly that. The guilt is written all across your features each time I see you. Not only because you feel bad about us sleeping together. You can’t let go of it even eight years after, you carry it with you like a deadly weight. It’s going to drag you down one day, don’t you know?” He asks so nonchalantly, like he’s not expecting an answer. You offer him one anyway.

“And the part about devouring yourself?”

“Exorcise. Consume. Repeat it until everything inside you aches. My fate was written down on the day my cursed technique developed.” He’s quiet as he tells you this. Honest, for the first time in a while.

“And for you, that is synonymous to devouring yourself? Your technique?”

“More or less so. The rest of devouring is me reaching for a goal that is impossible to reach. Icarus flying too close to the sun, Laika trying to reach the stars.” He’s silent for a long moment after that.

You don’t really know what to say, either. The need to ask about why he was still doing this if he knew what the outcome was, dies down on your tongue. Instead, you hold onto his hand still tracing shapes on your arm. He gives your fingers a squeeze. The atmosphere of his bedroom is heavy and dark, melancholy weighing down heavy on your bones.

“You’re bad at pillow talk, Suguru.”

He offers you a small laugh, sound melodic and airy.

“And you’re trying to evade the topic. There was nothing you could’ve done, okay? And I don’t have plans for returning.” Your throat burns. The harsh reality that you have been trying so hard to avoid comes crashing down around you, “It’s not that you’re not good enough for me to turn my back on all of this. The thing is, you’re pretty, and caring, and your laugh, and your touch are the only things that can soothe my tired body.”

“You’re pouring salt into the wound.” You answer, and your voice is hallowed. He either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it. Deep down, you know that it’s the latter.

“My goals just always come first.” He adds, as if that wasn’t obvious, as if it hasn’t been the thing that’s haunted you for years, borrowing it so deep inside your body, soul and heart that it’s become familiar.

“Your goals always come first.” You echo, “You’ll die a selfish man, Suguru.”

He rearranges you into a more comfortable position, laying you down onto his chest and enveloping you both in a soft, warm blanket. His breathing matches yours and you feel yourself teetering along the edge of unconsciousness.

Suguru presses a kiss to your hairline, chuckling softly, before closing his own dark eyes. Can you even hear him anymore? Ah, no matter. He can always tell you the next time you come back to him.

“Don’t I know it, dear. Don’t I know it.”


Tags :
11 months ago

Tagged - @quinnyundertow, @pweewee

Tagged - @quinnyundertow, @pweewee

A/N - This is a part 2 to this piece!

Word Count - 0.9k

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Tagged - @quinnyundertow, @pweewee

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists.  

Shit. 

< 
 > 

"Let her go," he says, willing his voice to be firm, but it falls short. He knows that he must sound absolutely pathetic in comparison to what he wants, but words were his only weapon.  

He couldn't clench his fists and fight – not when it was you. 

"So desperate. This little body must mean worlds to you, am I right brat?"  

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, staring into your eyes and wondering if somehow, you're staring back at him. He hopes that you're there somewhere, and wherever you were, he could reach you. 

He just needed to stall for long enough to make that happen.  

"Just let her go," Yuuji begs, taking a brave step forward. You 
 or rather Sukuna 
 takes a step away from him, creating distance that only shoves Yuuji's heart further down into his stomach. "You can do whatever you want, but just don't--" 

"You dare order me around? I spared you," Sukuna growls, tipping your head upward so that you could glare down your nose at Yuuji. He gulps, the coldness of your eyes such a foreign sight.  

"You said that 
 that you wouldn't do anything to hurt her," Yuuji recalls, desperation seeping into his tone as he takes another step towards Sukuna. Sukuna retaliates by forcing your body backward again. 

"When was I ever known to keep such meaningless promises?" Sukuna curls your lips upward into a smirk, tilting your head to the side and watching as Yuuji's face pales.  

Suddenly, your body contorts, your right hand curling into a white-knuckled fist that you promptly ram into your chest. Sukuna coughs, tilting your head down to glance at where your fist had connected with your chest.  

Yuuji watches in shock – watches as your right fist reels back again, this time connecting with your cheek. Again, Sukuna splutters, legs buckling slightly under the force with which you had punched up into your own face.  

"(Y/N)?" he mutters to himself, tilting his head. Sukuna, or rather you, jerk your head towards Yuuji. For a split second, just a singular split second, he can see that flicker of warmth that was just purely you.  

"That brat is 
 damn it," Sukuna snarls, nose crinkling in both frustration and disgust. He reaches your left hand towards your right, curling your fingers around your wrist and roughly tugging it downward.  

Somewhere in the darkness, you clench your hands into fists, operating blindly. This was your body. 

“Fucking brat!” Sukuna suddenly yells, your fingers losing grip over your own wrist. Your left hand releases your right, and once again, your fist connects with your cheek.  

Yuuji watches, eyes widening as the realization of what you were doing slowly seeps in. He has been right — you were still somewhere in there. 

“(Y/N)!” Yuuji yells out, bravely sprinting from his place and locking his arms around your waist, ignoring Sukuna’s vicious yells of protest. He tugs your back flush against his chest, closing his eyes and ignoring the pain that erupts in his chest as Sukuna forces you to squirm in Yuuji's hold. 

"Unhand me!" Sukuna shouts, kicking out one of your legs in the hopes that it would loosen Yuuji's grip. It doesn't. 

Your right hand trembles before shooting upward, palm covering your eyes and gripping tightly onto your temples. Sukuna lets out a frustrated shout, lips pulling back in an angered snarl. 

"C'mon (Y/N), c'mon," Yuuji whispers pleadingly, digging his heels into the ground and tightening his grip. Your body trembles for a moment, shaking against him before falling completely limp. "(Y/N)!" 

"And just what makes you think that you can take this body back?" Sukuna tilts his head at you, circling you like a lion would its prey. Calculating red eyes narrow at you, pupils narrowed into snake-like slits as you stare helplessly back at the King of Curses.  

"I won't let you--" 

"You won't let me what? You do understand how absolutely powerless you are in comparison to me, don't you?" Sukuna barks out a laugh, roughly taking hold of your face and forcing your gaze upon him.  

Your eyes water at the sudden pressure applied to your skin, body shaking as Sukuna lowers his face to be inches from yours – nose to nose.  

"I'll kill him with your hands," Sukuna smirks at you, relishing in the expression of horror that falls over your face. He bites back the rising laugh in his throat, instead releasing his hold on your face.  

You stare helplessly, lowering your head and staring down at your hands. Sukuna bends, kneeling in front of you and tilting his head.  

"What'll it be?" 

"(Y/N) 
?" Yuuji murmurs, hands cradling either side of your face. He blinks back the tears in his eyes, staring down at your face and smiling as your eyes flicker to meet his own. His lips part to greet you again, eyes already crinkling at the corners.  

The marks on your face and wrists haven't 
 haven't faded.  

"(Y/N) 
?" Yuuji whispers again, watching as you remove yourself from his lap and rise to your feet. Your back turns to him, then your head tilts to catch a glance of him from over your shoulder.  

Your lips curl upward into a smirk, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing together. "(Y/N) is gone 
" 

Yuuji's eyes widen, heart sinking as he too rises to his feet. His hands go slack as he stares at you.  

" 
 brat." 

HEHE if y'all want an alternate ending please let me know, but I had so much fucking fun writing this! 


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3 years ago
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pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: angst, subtle mentions of death

an: sooo I haven’t written anything in a long while(ïżŁâ–œïżŁ)ïŒïŸ”ïœŻïŸ€ïœ°! because fuck uni; consider this as a debut long piece on this blog. hope you liked it! (â€ąÌ€áŽ—â€ąÌ)و

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"Sensei, can I ask you something?”

Ears perked up upon hearing Itadori’s question, the sorcerer signals his student to go ahead. Having exchanged hushed whispers amongst his other two classmates, Sukuna’s vessel finally musters the courage to speak up. The tension reeking in the atmosphere alone is intense, heavy enough for Gojo to feel the weight of it upon his shoulders. 

“What is it, Yuuji-kun?”

“Have ... have you failed to save someone in the past?” 

With that, the white-haired male falls silent. Sunglasses dropped and mouth agape, he fails to answer his student’s question. Perhaps it is the oddity of the unexpected question itself which takes Gojo off guard, or the fact that the usual happy-go-lucky pink-haired teen comes up with such a heavy topic to talk about out of the blue. 

Yet neither of which is the root cause resulting in the sorcerer’s sudden loss of words. Little did Itadori and his classmates know, what sounds like a seemingly harmless inquiry about their teacher’s past soundlessly reopens a cicatrix deep within his heart, rekindling memories of his suppressed past that he wishes could be left behind. 

“Sensei? Are you okay?” 

The seconds tick by, but Gojo only responds with silence. 

Gaze boring deep into the ground and away from his beloved students, the sparkle in his cerulean eyes dwindling into a transient, dull flicker. Time heals all wounds, yet it is soon proven ineffective for him as the male reluctantly takes a trip down the dreaded memory lane, plunging headfirst into what Gojo deems the epitome of hell — his past, once more. 

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Predestined to become a sorcerer since birth, the white-haired man already anticipated the multitude of obstacles he would face in time: instances when he teetered on a tightrope between life and death were of common knowledge, which he didn’t have a problem dealing with — being the strongest and all that. 

Yet the one thing Gojo despised the most throughout his arduous journey of becoming a sorcerer was the obligation to make decisions (while achieving the goal of pleasing the higher-ups) that even he grew tired of doing so. The jujutsu world was sickening to say the least. Ironically, being a prominent member of it all — while inheriting the title as the next heir of the Gojo clan at the same time, his life was inseparable from its overwhelming toxicity. All those useless elders who were all bark and no bite together with their old-fashioned beliefs made the young man utterly revolted to the core. And if he were given the chance to leave everything behind, Gojo would’ve had done so without hesitation. 

Trapped in this pernicious world where even breathing felt lethal, the optimism towards humanity’s salvation which once burned bright in the sorcerer’s heart like ardent flames had now receded into dying embers. The world was beyond his capability to be saved; in fact, those who were ready to be rescued constitutes a mere couple. 

Was everything I did really what the world needed right now? 

Would the choices I make be another regret of mine later in life? 

What is the point of surviving in a world like this? 

Wouldn’t death be of any difference?

Eventually, Gojo fails to seek for his resolve, no longer holding onto a reason why he should continue treading down the path of being a sorcerer. If the elders are that obstinate about changing the world is it currently is, then why should he? If all is doomed to perish in curses, would his forlorn efforts even make a difference to humanity’s inevitable demise? He doesn’t know about it anymore, nor does he care. Even with his six eyes, the future ahead becomes unprecedented; and bit by bit, Gojo finds himself sinking into a bottomless abyss. Dragged down by inexplicable displeasure towards the world revolving around him, his spirit is on the verge of extinction, sanity hanging precariously by a thread. 

Sinking, he slowly embraces the darkness in his awaiting path.

Except that you are there to guide him out of the mist just as he is about to lose sight of his true self. 

Akin to a lighthouse illumining the infinite murkiness corrupting his heart, you lead him back into the light. What feels like doom and gloom suffocating his entirety suddenly dissipates into thin air the instant you wander into his life by coincidence. 

The memory of meeting you for the first time resurfaces in Gojo’s mind every now and then, as if all of which happened yesterday. Upon returning from an easy mission, the sorcerer mindlessly meandered through a labyrinth of streets and alleyways; night drew into Shinjuku, and the remnants of copper hues from the horizon were gradually replaced by a myriad of neon colours. Eyes averted onto scintillating lights in the distance, Gojo found his gaze lost in an opaque blur. 

Was this how the world was supposed to look like in the first place? Why was it within this decaying world that people still managed to smile? Weren’t they afraid of dying —

Just then, a young woman caught the sorcerer’s stare. The first thing he noticed was her outfit; sorcerers were rare even in the modern era, not to mention meeting one by chance on the streets could be considered a once-in-a-blue-moon phenomenon. For Gojo to coincidentally cross paths with another one of his kind, he certainly wasn’t expecting that. Nevertheless, what surprised him the most was her words to him the second she sauntered past. 

“You’re lost, aren’t you?” 

Despite how most people around him thought of his behaviours as being melodramatic, Gojo Satoru wasn’t a particularly expressive individual. With the weight of the world weighing upon his shoulders, he mastered the ability to mask his emotions — regardless of the overwhelming urge for him to let it all out. With time, the male forced himself to numb away his feelings. Nobody had ever been able to read him like an open book, so why could you? 

“How —“

“I can see it in your eyes.” Breathing out a heavy sigh, you rested a hand on his arm. As your fingers conjured patterns on his skin, an unexplainable seep of warmth flooded through his veins; unveiling his walls, you soon perceived what seemed like his inner core: decaying into nothingness, almost lifeless, the vermilion walls which were once of a bright crimson fading into maroon —almost ashen. It was no wonder why the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth looked so dead on the inside. 

He was indeed dying, and you were determined to save him no matter the cost. 

“I know how you feel, trust me. I’ve gone through that same phase where I’m so fed up with my job as a sorcerer ... it feels like no matter what I do, it would be of no avail. It’s vexing, not to mention a huge pain in the ass. But I just grit my teeth and move on. The reason I’m still a sorcerer now is simple: to live for another day, where I could see the sunset.” 

“Huh?” 

“W-what I mean is, instead of worrying about a future that is out of your control, why don’t you focus on the present? That way, you might find a little motivation to make it through every day.” Albeit confused as to why you would go out of your way to help a stranger like him, a smile made its way to replace the apparent crease on Gojo’s face. 

“Thank you ...?” 

“y/n, y/n l/n — Grade 1 sorcerer. Nice to meet you, Gojo Satoru.” 

“The pleasure is mine.”

Gratefully, he expressed his gratitude — to which you responded with a smile. It wasn’t simply a grin, it was one that would warm the cockles of his heart. Of all the people he met, most masked their ugly intentions beneath the disguise of feigned kindness; people disgusted him, but your simper was genuine. For once, he felt peace within his heart. And just like you said, he would try to hold onto something tangible — a minuscule drive that would help him go through what felt like a torturous infinity. 

You. 

Had you not reached out to him, Gojo would’ve had gone astray from his primary goal; had you not broken down the walls he’d built, he wouldn’t make it through to another day; had you not crossed paths with him, the sorcerer wouldn’t know what to do with the rest of his life in a world he oh so despised. Your presence reminded him that he was never alone to start with, that no matter how tired, helpless or dire whatever situation he might be in, there would always be someone he could rely on. 

At least for now, the male would continue his battle. 

For the sake of humanity, and to see you for one more day. 

“Anyway, do you have any plans for the day?”

“I’m going to watch the sunset. Want to come?” 

“Why not?” 

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Yet not every fairy tale began with once upon a time, and not every anecdote would come to a perfect close with happy-ever-afters. 

By the time Gojo rushed to the location which you’d last sent him for backup, you were already lying in a pool of blood, the curse you were supposed to exorcise being out of plain sight. His heart sank in utter despair; and unable to hold back surging waves of emotions, tears started to fall down the sides of the sorcerer’s cheeks as he rushed to you as fast as his legs could carry him. 

“y/n ... y/n! Stay with me ... I’ll call Shoko to come over in a sec.” Feeling desperate nudges on your shoulder and tears falling onto your ashen cheeks, your eyelashes fluttered with a hearty effort, earning a relief sigh from Gojo. 

“Thank goodness ... fuck, I was so scared for a moment ya know? Just stay awake, okay? I promise everything would be alright —“

“Satoru ... I’m glad you’re here ...” 

The sight alone made his heart wrench. Like a wilting flower, your life was slipping away soundlessly in his palms, and there was nothing he could do other than holding you in close proximity. The faltering palpitation of your pulse, the shallow breaths that dwindled to a trickle, the expanse of grey fading into carmine as you laid motionless on the icy concrete, your hollow gaze meeting his harrowing ones as tears were spilled endlessly. 

Gojo berated himself immensely, for not rushing to your aid as soon as possible — especially when the tragedy could’ve had been avoided, for being incapable of saving you from death’s door — unlike how you had rescued him back then, and for everything he owed you. Even as you flashed a faint grin at the distressed sorcerer, reminding him not to take the blame on his own, there was no way the male would forgive himself for something like this. 

Even if he had all the power in the world, what would be the meaning of all this  — when he couldn’t even save the one person he cared about the most?

"y/n ... I’m so sorry ...” A tinge of rawness laced with belated regret etched the back of Gojo’s throat whilst he croaked out his apology. 

“It’s never your fault, dummy ...” Reaching out your trembling hands, you weakly poke him on the cheek. Hearing this only made the sorcerer weep even harder, his grip on you tightening. His uniform was ensanguined with your blood, yet Gojo couldn’t care less about that at this moment. 

At this point, his only wish was to hold you in his arms for one more time. 

“Satoru ...”

“Yes?” The sorcerer sniffled through tears. 

“I want you to watch the sunset ... promise?” 

“It ... it would never be the same without you! No ... no way would I —“ He was about to protest when you shakily placed a finger to his lips. 

“Pl ... please.” 

Silence canopied the two of you like a blanket. 

“Wherever you are, I would always be there ... watching the sunset with you. Jus’ promise me ... this one last thing, ‘kay?” 

And with a heavy heart, Gojo nodded begrudgingly. 

“Live on ... and I love you, dummy.”

Smiling at him for the last time, you exhaled your last breath of air, passing away peacefully in the male’s trembling arms. Dazzling rays of the setting sun shone across the skyline, emanating its balmy radiance. Yet the sorcerer didn’t feel the same warmth from the sun as before. To him, its rays reached him, but they ceased to save Gojo from the tenebrosity of his heart. Your passing felt like a mighty rip from a page in his life; and without you, he was this close to giving up. 

Gojo Satoru was alive and breathing, yet this was the day when his heart died. 

Along with you. 

Pairing: Gojo Satoru X Reader

“Sensei, are—are you alright?” Concerned inquiries from his students snap the white-haired sorcerer back into reality. Adjusting his sunglasses and choking back a sob, he manages to give Itadori his long-awaited response. 

“... of course I have.” Gojo’s voice lowers to what feels like a hoarse, pained whisper. “Even the strongest sorcerer cannot save anyone. There is no way time can be rewound ... but all we can do is to live, for the sake of those who love and care immensely for us. Remember that, kids.” 

With that, he leaves the room, leaving the three first-years utterly speechless as they start to discuss how this is a brand new face of Gojo in which they have never discovered in the past — only curious as to why he is showing this side of himself now. 

As the saying goes — the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Yet for Gojo Satoru, the path to him becoming the strongest sorcerer of all time started with the agony of goodbye.


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