Jujutsu Kaisen X Plus Size Reader - Tumblr Posts

Allure of the forbidden.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hiiii i love your basketball au w/ sukuna sm!

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

Ty for your time friend! 💖🌸

Not the time to think about it pt.II

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

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

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

Aftermath

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

But it never worked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had loved you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

The Last Chance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t too late after all.

“…Something more “

( ♡ ) pairing : True Form!Sukuna x fem!Goddess!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, idk

( ♡ ) a/n ✏️ : I was rewatching Naruto Shippunden and Kaguya is my damn favorite Goddess 🙏🏽 and I began to think about making a Sukuna x reader who is like Kaguya so here it is 😋

Much like Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, you possess an ethereal and otherworldly beauty. Your long, flowing [color] hair cascades down your back, shining like moonlight. Your eyes, pearlescent and timeless, hold a serene yet terrifying calm. They give off an unsettling sense of omnipotence, as though you can see into the very soul of anyone who dares to meet your gaze.

You are tall and regal, often adorned in flowing, intricately designed robes that enhance your goddess-like aura. Your beauty is not just physical but seems to embody an ancient, celestial force that makes you feel unreachable, untouchable.

Like Kaguya, your abilities far exceed normal comprehension. You can manipulate dimensions at will, travel between realms, and control chakra or an equivalent form of cursed energy with terrifying precision. Your attacks are vast and destructive, capable of wiping out entire regions with a mere thought.

You command nature, reality, and time itself. To those who encounter you, you are seen as a deity — your power so immense that even the strongest beings, including Sukuna, cannot take you lightly.

You maintain an air of calm detachment, viewing the world and its inhabitants as transient and insignificant compared to your own eternal existence. You are patient, silent, and observe from a distance rather than engage unless absolutely necessary.

Emotions are a foreign concept to you, something you observe but have never truly experienced for yourself. You are calculating, logical, and always think several steps ahead, considering everything from a higher perspective.

While you appear cold and aloof, there is a quiet loneliness deep within you. Being so powerful, so eternal, has left you disconnected from the world and the people in it. There is a longing within you to understand and perhaps experience the warmth that mortals cling to.

Sukuna is drawn to you in ways he can’t quite explain. You are the only person he has encountered who seems genuinely indifferent to his power and status. In fact, your strength easily matches or even surpasses his, and he respects that — though he’d never admit it aloud.

He’s constantly trying to provoke reactions from you, fascinated by your stoic demeanor. Whether through battle or teasing, Sukuna finds it maddening yet exhilarating that you don’t bend to him like others. He’s used to people fearing or admiring him, but you do neither, which piques his interest further.

Over time, Sukuna finds himself not just interested in your power but in you as a being. The mystery of who you are and why you remain so detached makes him want to break through your barriers, to make you feel something, anything, for him.

Over time, you and Sukuna begin to understand one another on a deeper level. Both of you are beings of immense strength, isolated by your power, and feared by those around you. This isolation forms an unspoken bond between you. You each recognize that the other is different — set apart from the world.

Sukuna is fascinated by your calmness and the way you handle yourself in battle, unphased by destruction. You, on the other hand, are intrigued by Sukuna’s chaotic nature, his brashness, and his ability to feel so deeply despite being feared and revered.

The sky above was painted in the colors of dusk, deep oranges fading into inky purples. You stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing out at the vast landscape beneath you. The wind whispered through your [color] hair, and your pale eyes reflected the serene indifference you felt toward the world. Time, space, life — they were all fleeting.

But there was something — someone — who disrupted that peace.

You felt his presence long before he spoke. Sukuna’s cursed energy was unmistakable, like a shadow that blotted out the light. He approached with his usual swagger, a cocky grin plastered on his face, yet you didn’t turn to face him.

“Staring at the horizon again? You look like you’re waiting for the world to end,” Sukuna teased, standing beside you now. His crimson eyes gleamed as he studied you. Even in moments of silence, there was something about you that captivated him.

You didn’t respond, your eyes still fixed on the horizon, calm and distant.

He hated that indifference. Not because it irritated him, but because it fascinated him. Sukuna was used to reactions — fear, admiration, anger — but with you, there was nothing. You were like a statue carved from the stars, untouchable and beyond mortal understanding.

“I’ve fought countless battles, seen men and gods alike tremble before me. But you… you don’t care about any of it, do you?” His voice was lower now, more serious than usual.

“No,” you finally said, your voice soft but carrying the weight of eternity. “Why should I care for fleeting things?”

Sukuna’s grin widened. “And yet you let me come here. Again and again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were beginning to care.”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze for the first time that evening. “You are… different from the others.”

It wasn’t much, but coming from you, it was a revelation. Sukuna felt a flicker of something in his chest—something more than his usual lust for power or destruction. It was fleeting, like the brush of wind, but it was there.

He reached out, his fingers brushing a lock of your hair. “Then what am I to you?”

You didn’t pull away from his touch. For the first time in centuries, you found yourself curious. Not about power, or strength, or the endless void of time, but about him.

“You are… something more.”

Sukuna’s grin faltered for a moment as he took in your words. He hadn’t expected that. For the first time, the great Ryomen Sukuna was caught off guard, and he found himself wanting more of this feeling, this connection with you.

And so, under the fading light of the setting sun, two beings, both feared and revered, found in each other something rare — a connection that transcended their power and their isolation.

The Illness of Us

( ♡ ) pairing : Sukuna Ryomen x significant other!reader

( ♡ ) warning : no gender reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, human reader, Heian era Sukuna, age gap , idk bro

( ♡ ) a/n ✏️ : BASSED OFF A ROMANIAN SONG I CRIED ON.

The rain was falling hard, but you barely noticed it anymore. It was just another storm, just another distraction from the silence that had settled between the two of you. You sat on the cold floor of the empty temple where you often found him — alone, brooding, but always watching.

Sukuna stood across from you, his gaze fixed on something you couldn’t see. He was always like this — distant, even when you were right there next to him. His silence had a weight that pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

And maybe that was the problem.

He had always been a curse — something twisted and dark that you couldn’t stay away from, no matter how much you tried. He had drawn you in like a moth to flame, and you had burned for him. You still did.

But now… now it felt like the fire was slowly dying.

“Și boala lor era că nu se potriveau…” (and their illness was that they weren’t right for each other)

The illness of your love was that you were never meant for each other. Sukuna was chaos incarnate, a god of destruction who thrived on pain and violence. And you — you were human, fragile in comparison. The two of you had clashed from the very beginning, your love and arguments interwoven into a cycle of hurt and passion, never finding a balance.

“We don’t fit together,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. He didn’t look at you, but his words hit you harder than anything else ever had.

Your heart clenched painfully. You had heard these words before, but this time, they felt final.

“I don’t care,” you whispered, though your voice shook. “I don’t care if we don’t fit. I still—”

“Still what?” he snapped, finally turning to face you, his eyes dark and filled with something you couldn’t name. Anger? Pain? It was always so hard to tell with him. “Still love me?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

You did. You always had.

But that wasn’t enough, and deep down, you knew that. Sukuna was like a poison that had seeped into your veins, corrupting everything good, everything safe. And yet, even now, you couldn’t let him go. No matter how many times he pushed you away, no matter how many times you fought, you always came back to him.

And he let you. He always let you.

“Și se certau și se iubeau…” (and they argued and they loved each other)

You and Sukuna had never had peace. Every moment of tenderness between you was followed by arguments, by rage. He would kiss you like he was devouring you, pulling you close as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered — only to push you away moments later, his words cutting like knives, reminding you that you were human, mortal, something beneath him.

And yet, despite it all, despite the fire and the fury, there were moments — small, fleeting moments — where it felt like you truly saw him. Not the King of Curses, but the man behind the curse. A man who could love, who could feel, even if he would never admit it.

But those moments never lasted. They couldn’t.

“You need to leave,” Sukuna said, his voice softer now, but no less firm. He stepped closer, towering over you, his eyes never leaving yours. “You need to walk away from this.”

You shook your head, tears burning behind your eyes. “I can’t. I won’t.”

His hand reached out, brushing against your cheek in a rare moment of gentleness. His touch was cold, but it was still Sukuna — still the man you had given everything for.

“You’re a fool,” he whispered, though there was no venom in his words this time. “You’re a fool to love me.”

“I know,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I do. I always will.”

His expression tightened, something unreadable passing across his face. There was a part of him, buried deep beneath centuries of cruelty, that wanted to love you the way you deserved. But he couldn’t. He never could.

“I don’t deserve you,” Sukuna murmured, his hand falling away from your face. “You’ll only get hurt if you stay.”

He had never said anything like this before. Sukuna had always been proud, never admitting weakness, never admitting that there was anything wrong with the way he was. But now, as he stood in front of you, it was as if the weight of everything — the battles, the blood, the destruction — was finally pressing down on him.

“Then why don’t you let me go?” you asked, your voice breaking.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, in a voice so low you almost didn’t hear him, he whispered, “Because I can’t.”

“Se iubeau, dar nu se potriveau.” (they loved each other but weren’t right for each other)

That was the truth of it. He loved you, in his own twisted way, but it would never be enough. He would never change. You would always clash, always fight, always fall apart only to come back together again, trapped in a cycle that neither of you could escape from.

Sukuna’s eyes softened, just for a moment, as he took a step back. “I want you to move on,” he said, his voice strained. “I want you to live without me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that you didn’t care, that you would rather be with him, broken as it was, than live without him. But the words died in your throat as you saw the pain in his eyes — the real, raw pain that he never let anyone see.

“I’ll only ruin you,” he continued, his gaze hardening. “You deserve more than this.”

You wanted to scream at him, to tell him that you didn’t care. But deep down, you knew he was right. You had always known. This was a love that would destroy you in the end.

But how could you leave him, when every part of you still loved him?

Sukuna turned away from you, his form dissolving into the shadows as the storm outside raged on. He didn’t say goodbye — he never did. But this time, something told you it was different.

This time, he was letting you go.

And as the rain pounded against the temple walls, you realized with a heavy heart that he had never been the one keeping you trapped.

It had always been you.