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The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 16: Shibuya Incident: Gate Closed

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 1.8k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, mostly platonic, you're really just part of the story

Masterlist | Next

You've heard enough to know that Tsukumo Yuki dislikes the Jujutsu world. Meaning that it's already big news that she's shown up in the first place, but it also means she most probably had a plan. You don't blame her. Jujutsu society is messed up.

" The next stage of humanity lies in breaking away from cursed energy." 

" No. It lies in optimizing cursed energy." 

Yuki and whoever is hiding away in Geto's body appear to not agree on the matter.

She turns, shrugging at Yuuji, who raises a hand.

" Uh. I don't understand either of those." 

" I thought you gave up on that plan 12 years ago after Zen'In Toji died." 

" That's what I told Geto, yes." 

You blink, your eyes turning to your best friend in question. She believed people with promising talent like him and Toji were the solution for a curse free world? Interesting.

For now, you'll have to stay focused in finding the technique that will defrost the stranger's technique. 

Once again, you're lucky. Just like before with octopus man, you can for some reason use the stranger's technique to your advantage.

Admittedly, you've messed around with snow before, but you've never used it to defrost anything, to undo or create ice. But then again, there's a first time for everything, right? 

Both Geto and Yuki explain their ideals. Yuki doesn't see the use of optimizing cursed energy, considering Japan would be a monopoly in that. Other countries wouldn't just stand by and watch. It would create a war. Whoever is hiding in Geto doesn't seem to care. He just wants cursed energy to take over in it's best form. Doesn't matter if it's through people or cursed objects. According to him, his ideal is a spec in the darkness. According to him, he should've let 'chaos consume around him beyond his control'. He had been limited, but now he had extracted the technique to do so.

At once, Yuki turns to Yuuji.

" There was a curse named Mahito, right?! The one whose technique could manipulate souls!" 

" That guy just absorbed him." 

Yuuji sounds awfully nonchalant while Yuki is obviously distressed. Her eyes widen at his words.

" Seriously?!" 

Geto leans down, pressing his palm to the ground. At once, a symbol shows on the ground, also appearing in the sky. It looks eerie.

" Tengen's barrier? No, this is..." 

" You have my thanks Yuuji. Curses cease to improve once they've been absorbed by curse manipulation. Your fight with Mahito is what really matured him." 

" What did you do?" 

Yuki is rightfully not in the mood for Geto's round of approval.

" I remotely activated Idle Transfiguration on two types on non-sorcerers that I had marked ahead of time."

As Geto continues to explain, you finally get the gist of unfreezing the icy technique, summoning the cursed energy in the form of water all around you. As well as that, their cursed energy weakens. Probably because of the wound they healed when Choso's Piercing Blood cut through their palm like that.

The stranger's eyes widen as you manage to free yourself, freeing Sukuna soon after and the rest as well.

" What's the matter Uraume?" 

Geto looks over at Uraume, who is looking utterly scandalized as they watch you.

" L/N Y/N. " 

You raise a brow. L/N? Now who is that?

" Sorry, I'm not game for talking right now." 

With that, you sweep Uraume off their feet with a strong gust of water, using their own cursed energy against them. Sukuna laughs, the sound loud, causing several of your allies to turn to you in question.

" Hah! Finally." 

You raise a brow at your best friend, he sends you a side eye back.

" What? You took long. I knew you could do it." 

However, the fun ends after that. Due to Uraume's weakened form, their cursed energy disappears into thin air. 

Unbothered, Geto continues speaking, explaining how he's been working on this for over thousands of years. He calls today 'the world of the future'. You don't need to wonder on it for long.

Within a moment, he has reached through Geto's curses, and summoned a lot of them at once.

You gather the rain which had fallen around you, crating the water circle in a steady flow around you.

Sukuna takes a step back, shifting closer to you.

His body language a clear message. 'Stay close to me.' 

Admittedly, you weren't planning to leave.

Everyone is surrounded by curses at once. You glance around you in concern, noticing just in time to see Geto holding out the prison realm mockingly to Yuuji, adding that he's expecting great things from the boy.

Unbeknownst to you just yet, a notice from Jujutsu Headquarters is released.

1. Geto Suguru is confirmed to be alive, and has been sentenced to death once again.

2. The suspension of Itadori Yuuji 's death sentence is revoked and the execution is to be carried out immediately.

3. Yaga Masamichi shall receive the death penalty for inciting Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru and causing the Shibuya incident.

4. Gojo Satoru has been deemed an accomplice in the Shibuya incident and is thus permanently exiled from the Jujutsu world. Furthermore, removing his seal will be considered a criminal act.

5. Special Grade sorcerer Okkotsu Yuta is appointed Itadori Yuuji's executioner.

[ This is where the series ends. Continuing from this point means manga spoilers!]                              Manga spoilers for this chapter: chapter(s) 138

Some time passed. Not much. Maybe five minutes. The cursed spirits were a distraction.

" I'm sorry for not acting sooner. I wasn't sure on what to do...."

Geto escaped. His cursed spirits are all over Tokyo. Satoru Gojo is gone. Nanami and Nobara are dead. 

If anything, you all lost. And horribly so.

On top of that, you have no idea where Megumi is currently.

You shouldn't have left him in that street in Shibuya. You hope Toge found him.

You suppose it's not Yuki's fault. If anything, you blame the higher ups.

" ...The situation had reached a point where I thought I should just keep an eye on things. At least temporarily... Have you realized I'm not necessarily on your side? I'm just a humble beauty who wants to eradicate cursed spirits from the world. By way of apology, my comrades and I will take responsibility for delivering those kids who were there. It's about time I confront Tengen. 

What will you do?"

You don't know. Originally, you just wanted to go home. On top of that, you haven't felt as homesick as you do right now. 

However, you can't. You know so. You have to help. They've taken you in after all, cared for you like you had always been one of their students. You owe it to Gojo sensei at least. You have to help get him his freedom. Going home comes later.

Sukuna glances at you. He knows you better than most people. He understands what's going through your head, how you work. He still has to catch up to what's been going on here. On who Ryomen Sukuna is. On Yuuji's story. On your own. However, he can't find it in himself to care. He figures he'll figure it out. You could be one of the curse users in this universe, and he'd still follow you. All the people he cares about are in your universe anyway.

Silently, his hand reaches out to hold your own. You glance up, but his expression is the same as always. No emotion shown on his face. You know he's reassuring you though. He'll stick by you, no matter what.

You give him a small smile, before looking at Yuuji.

" Yuuji, we'll follow you. " 

Sukuna lets go of your hands, crossing his arms over one another as he looks at the boy he recognizes as his twin brother.

" No."

You blink in surprise. Sukuna raises a brow.

" The fuck you mean no?"

Yuuji shakes his head, eyes flitting over the visible injuries on you.

" I've already nearly killed Y/N. I don't want that to happen again. You two should continue to figure out how to go home. If you help, your chances of dying only increases."

" Yuuji, no, that literally wasn't you. Ryomen Sukuna tried to kill me. Not you.-"

" Don't be so angsty. It's stupid, and pathetic. We're not weak. And we're here anyway so we might as well help. Besides, I trust our classmates to manage bringing us home."

Yuuji sighs.

He should've expected this. You never seemed to listen anyway, and why would your best friend be any different?

" Y/N-"

" No. None of that."

You're glaring at him.

Yuuji sighs.

 Of course, you and Sukuna end up joining him.

-

Parallel Jujutsu Kaisen Universe

Gojo Satoru's eyes widen beneath his blindfold, taking the weapon his student is holding.

" He lost it?"

" Don't think so. Rather the portal seemed to reject it. It was weird, considering it was clicked onto the Chain when he fell in. "

Fushiguro Megumi is a bit bloodied up, but still standing and ready to go yet again. Gojo is proud of his students. They've all grown quickly, jumping opportunities and often being able to take on things much bigger than them. It was rare for them to ask for help, especially for Megumi and Sukuna.His beloved angsty teenager students who would much rather get sucked into a portal towards some other place than ask their beloved sensei for help.

Gojo can't help but smile, causing Megumi to grimace.

" What're you smiling about?"

" Can't believe my dear students have finally decided to come ask for my help." 

Megumi sighs.

" Don't ever tell Sukuna I did...."

Megumi trails off, eyes on the table between them.

" I just want my friends back. Even if they're annoying."

Gojo smiles.

" Wouldn't dream of it. Go visit Shoko, leave it to your sensei."

Megumi shakes his head, wiping the blood of his forehead.

" I'm fine. Let's get Nobara and Yuuji." 

He prefers your touch to Shoko's anyway. Not that he'll ever tell you though.

[ A/N: We're in the manga : D. Never expected people to like this tbh. Glad you do tho. 

ALSO I have finally decided. It's a (your) Sukuna X you, Megumi X you (maybe I'll make a bonus epilogue with (your) megumi X you. No promises on that though.)

Lastly, the sweet romance stuff is mostly reserved for the epilogues bc we're mostly following the canon story line.]

The Anomaly Taglist

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime @betizda @sh0uk1 @nymphsdomain @suppeepsandweebs @sweetchimpeaches

The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 17: Death Sentence

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 2.7k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, your Sukuna X Reader, Megumi X reader

Masterlist | Next

Manga Spoilers: Chapter 138-142

You sigh, worry overtaking your expression as you notice Yuuji sitting there on the staircase. However, you don't approach him.

" Do you think I was too rude? By pushing him to allow us to tag along?" 

From beside you, Sukuna glances at you in annoyance.

" The brat should be grateful you're even willing to stick around him after that shit he pulled in the first place."

You sigh.

" That wasn't him, Sukuna. That was you."

He glances at you again, his brows pulled together in mild confusion.

By now, he understands that the other Sukuna is completely different. A 'King of Curses' apparently,  but that doesn't mean that he actually understands. 

" Nuh uh. I don't have cursed energy." 

You glance at him in mild annoyance.

" Not you, no. But other you-"

" Like Coraline?-"

" Yes, Ryomen Sukuna, not Itadori Sukuna." 

" Still that ain't me.-"

You huff, groaning in annoyance, and finally, your best friend drops the attitude.

" Fine, fine. I get it. Yuuji and Ryomen work different. Still. I nearly lost you. I don't accept that shit. If Yuuji lets Ryomen out again, I will be forced to make a choice I don't actually want to make." 

You nod at him, sighing as you lean your head against his shoulder. Like always, he doesn't mind. Not necessarily reinforcing your affection, but not pushing you away either. Secretly enjoying having you close like this.

Truth to be told, he knows who he would pick. Originally, he had viewed this universe's Yuuji the same as the brother he grew up with, but he's not. He can see that Yuuji doesn't trust him. It's annoying. Especially how several people only look at him and see a monster.

Sukuna doesn't even realize it when he's lost in thought, blankly staring at you.

" What? Is there something on my face?"

He blinks, lazily, and flicks your forehead, not saying a thing.

Yuuji walks past the two of you before you can yell at your best friend.

" Let's go."

-

The plan is easy.

Yuuji and Choso form a team, and you and Sukuna form a team.

Currently, both Yuuji and Sukuna are on the bridge. They'll clap, and sprint each one way. Sukuna will run to you, Yuuji will lure the other curses hiding in the water towards Choso.

Easy as that.

Sukuna glances at this universe's version of his twin, noting he's been staring at him.

" What?" 

Yuuji blinks. Sukuna appears annoyed, his voice gruff as his brows furrow together in annoyance.

Yuuji shakes his head, not really knowing why he was staring at him for a second either. You trust him. Yuuji supposes he should too.

He takes a deep breath, raising his arms. At once, both boys clap.

For a moment, silence follows, and then the curses jump up out of the river. Both boys sprint in the opposite direction. 

" Aye Little Shit!" 

Your eyes widen as you notice the cursed spirits who seem to follow them. They're huge.

" Where'd you even find these?!" 

You can reach out to the water flowing in the river, and you do so, creating several sharp, high speed whirring circles of water, you use them to cut through the ugly curses, exorcising them one by one.

Sukuna raises a brow, nodding his head at your quick, clean work.

" That was neat. You've gotten better at your silly circles."

You nod.

" Yeah, well, this universe certainly has a way of forcing one to get better. You'll see." 

He hums.

" Let's head back to the other two."

Barely a few moments later, you join Choso and Yuuji.

" As impressive as ever, little brother. " 

" You're still calling me that?" 

You blink at Choso's words, and Yuuji's reaction, but decide not to comment on it.

" I'll keep calling you that, over and over. Try to recollect. After all, your father had stitches on his forehead too, correct?"

Yuuji doesn't get a chance to respond to that. Instead,-

" I don't see Megumi."

All four of you glance up, only to see Naoya Zen'In standing on a bridge over the road you're stood on.

Ew. 

Naturally, you hate Naoya. You've totally met him a handful of times due to clan formalities, and you've disliked coming across him in each of them.

" Am I the first one here?"

You blink. Why does he want Megumi?

" Is that possible? Is he that slow?"

Finally, he looks down on the four of you, although his eyes seem to be focused on Choso and Yuuji.

" What are you two doing? You totally stand out. Don't you want to run?"

Yuuji furrows his brow.

" Run?"

" Haven't you heard? Now that Satoru's support is gone, your death sentence is back on." 

From a few paces beside you, you can see Choso furrow his brows in anger. 

He most probably didn't know about it.

But then again, neither do you or Sukuna.

" Death sentence?"

Naoya's eyes turn to you, only now noticing you.

" Aah, a woman? How interesting. Didn't see you there."

You hate the smirk on his face as he looks at you. 

" Good for you. What death sentence?" 

" Ah- the day I swallowed the first Sukuna finger, the elders originally sentenced me to secret execution." 

You gape at Yuuji, as Sukuna makes an ugly expression.

" You're so soft you're allowing them to sentence you to death? They're old. Let's just find them and beat them up. It should shut them up."

You blink over your shoulder at Sukuna.

Originally, usually, you would be against this. Now however? You're totally game for this.

" I'm game for that-"

" Ryomen Sukuna? No, you're someone else."

Naoya Zen'In appears to be smarter than you had originally expected.

That sucks.

" Interesting.... Well, my business is with Megumi. I honestly don't care if any of you live or die. But I can't have you scampering around.. so I'll start by breaking your legs."

Yuuji doesn't appear to be concerned with the threat aimed obviously at him, Naoya's smirk evident as he looks at the younger kid.

" What do you want with Fushiguro?"

" I think I'll have him die. But it'd help if he wrote a little something for me first." 

Yuuji's eyes sharpen, and in a second, Naoya is in between Yuuji and Choso.

Your eyes widen, as does everyone else's.

" I heard Megumi is looking for you." 

It's all Naoya says before throwing a harsh punch at Yuuji, too quick for him to dodge. Choso is quick to try landing a punch back, but Naoya is quicker, blocking him with what appears to be ease. Finally, both Yuuji and Choso both aim to punch him, and suddenly, he's gone. Now stood on the other side of the road.

Your eyes widen. You've never actually had to fight Naoya before. Not to mention that the Naoya from your universe wouldn't fight you because you're a woman.

" I didn't know he was that quick."

Sukuna nods, readying his stance for a fight.

" Me neither. "

In response, Naoya's eyes sharpen as well.

" Shall I try... upping my speed?"

His edginess is abruptly cut off when an overbearing amount of cursed energy suddenly joins the scene.

Everyone's eyes widen, turning in the direction of the source. (Except for Sukuna, who is just really confused. He can't feel cursed energy nor see it the way you can after all.)

" Hm? You're not alone." 

Yuta Okkotsu has joined the scene.

Sukuna steps closer to you. 

" Just to be sure, he's on our side, right?" 

You shrug.

" In all honesty- I have no idea." 

" Who are you?"

Yuuji doesn't know him. That is most probably bad news.

Yuta's eyes flit over Choso, before also flitting over to you and Sukuna. In confusion, his eyes switch between Sukuna and Yuuji, the question obvious.

Aren't they supposed to be one person?

" So you're Yuuji's executioner?" 

Choso's question causes his gaze to slide away from you and your best friend.

Feeling ignored, Naoya raises his hands in the air.

" I'm on your side. You're Okkotsu, right?"

You can see the realization dawn in Yuuji's eyes.

" Why does Yuuji have an executioner?" 

Sukuna keeps his voice soft, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

" Because of other you, I think. I'm not all too sure."

He nods.

Naoya and Yuta seem to be catching up, with Naoya admitting himself to Yuta's side. 

Which leaves the worst conclusion. In this universe, Yuta is not on your side.

" You gotta run, Yuuji." 

Yuuji turns to Choso.

" Will you be alright?" 

" Yeah, I will. Sukuna'll stay with me. Y/N should go with you for cover. You're the one they want. Focus on getting away from the one with black hair, Okkotsu. My guess is that if you fight him, you die." 

Yuuji glances at you shortly. You nod, glancing back at him. Sukuna sighs, scoffing as he looks at Naoya.

" Whatever. Let's just get this over with." 

It's like his words put in a chain reaction.

Choso is technically the first to move, trying to use Piercing Blood to stop Yuta in time. Technically, Naoya moves before that, because he blocks Choso's attack. Yuuji is off sprinting, and honestly, you're left gaping. You forget that that guy can take off like a rocket. Sukuna bypasses you, calling out a short 'change of plans' as he tails after Yuuji. Which leaves you with Naoya and Choso.

Naoya has kicked Choso in the stomach, quickly followed by you as you manipulate the water in your water skin, creating a long whip like line of water and harshly bringing it down on Naoya. He gets pushed back, stumbling, but grins as he gains footing the same second.

" I saw you earlier.-"

Naoya is looking at Choso as he speaks.

"That was blood manipulation right? I don't know why you have that, but other than Piercing Blood, it's not that scary. And in order to use piercing blood, you need to converge.. which required time."

He's just thinking out loud, you realize.

" I don't need to say the rest for you to understand. This is checkmate. But you-"

Finally, his eyes turn to you.

You glare at him.

" You're a woman. You're worthless. But your technique... You might not be completely useless. How about this? Put away your silly abilities, leave that guy, and marry me. We'd have strong kids."

You barely manage to keep your eye from twitching.

Ew.

You manipulate the line of water into a circle around you, allowing it to spin on a high tempo, creating a weapon out of it again.

" How about you shut up for a second and let me beat your ass?" 

Naoya's smirk turns into a scowl.

-

Yuuji is quick. Yuta is quick too. But thanks to Sukuna's heavenly pact, he's quicker. The fight is a blur, but eventually Yuta pulls a move that beats Sukuna and his heavenly pact.

He's held back and left to watch as Yuta stabs the kid he recognizes as his twin right through the heart.

" Rika, hold onto that one for me just a little longer."

Obviously, Yuta means Sukuna with 'that one'. It annoys him. That, and why does Rika have to hold onto him?

Sukuna watches as Yuta crouches down, his touch lighting up.

" Reverse cursed energy?"

Yuta nods as he turns to him.

" Yeah. I'm on your side, but things are complicated now. I need you to trust me. And I need you to convince your girlfriend to trust me too." 

Sukuna's eyes narrow. In your universe, Yuta is someone he gets along with just fine. Not in a special way, but he'd call Yuta if he ever needed someone to back him in a fight. (Not that he'd ever need it- besides, you're always his first option.)

However, he knows too little to choose to take risks in this universe. And Yuta is someone he'd rather keep as a friend.

-

Naoya's technique is annoying. Back when you were younger, you remember him telling you proudly exactly how it worked, however, you only remember tiny details. Something about speed and picture frames.

The fight is fierce, and annoying. Naoya might be fighting alone, but he's still managing to beat Choso's ass while simultaneously keeping you at a distance. It's odd. Why wasn't he straight up fighting you? Perhaps he's exactly the same as the asshole from your universe.

Eventually, there's a moment between the fight again.

" Who are you?"

Choso's eyes narrow again.

" I'm the oldest of ten siblings." 

" That's no answer." 

And then Naoya is closing in on him again. This time, Choso manages to keep up, blocking him. Sadly for him, Naoya had expected that of him, and reacts quickly by avoiding Choso's hit and slamming him straight into a wall.

" You're such a pain in the ass. I thought it would be best to bring a weapon."

Your eyes sharpen as Naoya pulls out a knife. Choso's eyes focus.

" You're well prepared."

" Honestly, it isn't very cool for a sorcerer to walk around with a weapon. Would you mind not telling anyone? It's pathetic how my older brothers show them off."

Naoya's eyes turn to you.

" That question is meant for you too, sweetheart."

You charge at Naoya, however, to your embarrassment, he manages to not only catch your hit, but also flips your entire weight, sending you right to the other side of him.

You blink, before glancing over your shoulder. 

Naoya smirks at you.

" I don't need to know your name. You're just another woman. But I don't damage future toys."

You glare at him, moving to open your water skin. However, Naoya is quick, much quicker than you.

Within a second, your water skin is on the other side of the road. Your eyes widen for a split second, before you're pulling your fist into a punch, punching him hard, sending him a few steps back with the cursed energy imbued in it.

Naoya glares at you. Ah, now he's mad. Finally, now you'll fight him.

" Y/N."

You glance at Choso.

" Leave this to me." 

There's a question clear in your eyes, but you step back. Perhaps, you'll fight him some other time.

Naoya sneers at you, but before you can say a thing, Choso speaks.

" So you hate your brothers?"

You raise a brow at Choso's words.

" Yes that's right." 

You were already aware of it.

" But maybe it's because of them that you are who you are."

" Huh?"

They get into it a little deeper, but the fight continues soon enough. It's impressive (and worrisome), how much blood Choso loses as he continues, but then he pulls a move you've never heard of before. 

Blood convergence: Supernova.

Their fight appears to be wrapped up just like that.

You sprint over to the other side of the road , getting your water skin, and your blood runs cold when you turn back around.

Yuta walks in through a passageway, holding Yuuji by the scruff of his collar.

" Looks like you're hurt, Naoya."

Why are they on first name basis? And where is Sukuna?

[ A/N: Sorry sometimes I forget I write. Also Naoya is not a romance option.]

The Anomaly Taglist:

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime @betizda @sh0uk1 @nymphsdomain @suppeepsandweebs @sweetchimpeaches

probably wrong timing since it's almost time for jjk leaks but there was this fic in which gojo and reader were both teachers and they were both having a crush on each other but neither of them was brave enough to confess their feelings, till one time, reader was ranting about wanting to go to the gym and gojo took the opportunity to offer her his home gym to which she agreed then things happened right from there, does anyone know the source to this please? 😭😭 Provide me with the link or any way to access this fic. thanks in advance.

hey!! just came across ur post about writer's block and ik how that feels I literally just got out of mine :)) if you're still looking for some requests, how about gojo with a crush on reader who works at a sweets shop he frequents?? wish you luck and happy writing!!

Thank you!!!

I'm very very slowly getting back into the hang of it

---------------

warnings: Nothing really? Probably a liike ooc Gojo, but he is just a love-sick mess for the reader, fluff, fem reader, I didn't mention the reader's smell for once!

AND- you know the drill, lmk if I miss anything and Grammarly can only do so much for my bad writing <3

Word Count?!: Roughly 500 words

It’s unfair truly, the amount of money Gojo has dropped in this one sweet shop to just try and taste the sweetest of them all. 

But it is so, so worth it

Every day Gojo comes into the same “Sugar Sweet” shop every Wednesday, Thursday, and Sunday at 12:30, just 2 hours after his crush shift started. To make conversation, to try the desserts and pastries she recommends, to see her smile, to admire her eyes, to stare at her lips wondering just how sweet they will be-fuck. He needs to get a hold of himself, but how can he? Can you blame him when the prettiest girl he has ever seen just so happens to work at the sweet shop a block down from his apartment? Can you really blame him for wanting to wrap his long arms around his crush and cover her in sugar-sweet kisses in order to hear the beautiful melody that is her giggles? To always hear the honey dripping from her voice as she greets him with the same kind smile.

 And today? Oh god, today? She has the most glow to her face that looks like God himself is blessing her, “Hello, Mr.Gojo! Same as usual?” The soft giggles following her sweetened voice make the egotistical man choke up. He smiles back at her, and a soft chuckle flows out of his mouth as he nods his hand. “Of course pretty, but I also would like to try something new today.” Gojo watches with careful eyes to judge her reactions. He felt himself grow flustered at the sight of her big curious eyes land on his, the look was so pure so trusting. It makes him feel unworthy of being looked upon by her.

“Oh yeah? What can I get for you?” The innocent in her voice, oh god. Gojo doesn't know how much he can take before he attacks her with a smothering hug and obsessive yearning. She casts her eyes down to the tablet in front of her, typing in Gojo’s usual order. The lanky man lends down to the counter making himself more closer to her height. Creates less of a tension, he thinks. “Oh pretty, I would love a small, tiny, little phone number from you.” Gojo smoothly asks as he tilts his head to the side, making him appear more attractive. Internally though the snow-man is screaming at himself.

He secretly sweats, waiting for her reaction. The girl before him looks up at Gojo, with widened eyes and a flustered expression. Her eyes dart around the empty store, as she looks back at him. Another emotion is there, uncertainty.

“Oh! Um.. are you?” She takes a deep breath as Gojo feels his heart want to break out of his chest. “Are you sure you want my number” The insecurity in her voice breaks the rapid heart in Gojo’s chest. He reaches his hand across the table. Cupping her soft skin, he caresses her cheek with his thumb. Love and adoration fill his eyes. “Of course, I want your number pretty, how else am I going pick you up for our date?” Gojo’s tongue darts out to run across his bottom lip. The pretty girl in front of him doesn’t verbally tell Gojo, but the nodding of her head and the awe-struck look in her eyes tells the man all he needs to hear. 

"The innocent and sweet love" — Masterlist

'Itadori is about to go crazy because he's in love with his sensei Y/n, she's going crazy because she likes having him around so much."

• Itadori X Sensei!Reader

• Warnings: Age difference, the reader is around 25 years old and Itadori is 18 years old.

— CHAPTERS

Very very soon

— DRABBLES

Very very soon

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YOU RANDOMLY CRAWL INTO THEIR LAP — JUJUTSU KAISEN

feat : gojo satoru, geto suguru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi + nanami kento.

♱ warnings — fluff!!! sobs this is just so sweet >~<

♱ note — yes yes more fluff after wat feels like forever i am dying here guys!!!

・✶ ｡ﾟGOJO SATORU

satoru had been away for a mission for a few days and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him, so you decided you needed a little more attention after you’d sent him for a shower with a few kisses inbetween, walking into the living room after to find him clean and manspread on the couch with an expectant smirk curling at the corners of his lips. but the hum that sounds from his throat when you slide your way onto his lap is the smooth kind of content, his arms immediately hooking around your waist to press your chest against his as he presses a few wet kisses along your jawline with a drawl.

“oh? did you miss me, sweet thing?” satoru grins, low but teasing as he lets his slender fingers trace up the length of your spine, the featherlight touches making you melt against him, before he’s tilting your chin up towards his with his free hand as you roll your eyes playfully with a nod. “yeah? didn’t keep you waitin’ too long f’ me?” he asks again but you know he doesn’t expect an answer when he begins to press his lips against your cheeks — quick, chaste kisses that have you yearning for more as he deliberately avoids your lips, even going as far as to graze over them with his own until you’re grumbling out his name.

but satoru only laughs, mumbling about how adorable you are before he’s finally kissing you softly, and when he breathes out a sigh against your lips you know it’s less because he’s tired and more because there’s a drop in his guard when he’s home.

・✶ ｡ﾟGETO SUGURU

suguru was watching a movie as he lay across the couch, even though his attention had drifted to scroll through his phone as he waited on you to come out of the shower. his eyes are a little darker, heavier with sleep when his attention immediately turns to you when you finally walk through the door way, but they still brighten slightly at the sight — his bicep flexed from where it’s supporting his head behind him as he sends you a lazier sort of grin.

“hey, pretty baby.” suguru drawls, scratchy and low and the familiar sound feels like it warms you from the inside out before you’re crawling your way onto his body. you feel the warmth of suguru’s chest immediately when you press yourself against the broad muscle, his hand dropping his phone by his side in favour of hooking it around your waist to pull you close enough for him to smear a kiss along your temple. but you feel a smile threaten to break from your lips when you look up to realise his eyes are already on you, feeling him squeeze affectionately at your sides before he’s shuffling slightly.

“what’re you watching, suguru?” you laugh, turning your attention to the trash tv he’d put on while you were away, “nah, doesn’t matter. got something better now, sweetheart.”

・✶ ｡ﾟITADORI YUUJI

you’d basically had to pry yuuji off of you as you went to get ready for bed, leaving him on the couch with a cute pout as he gave you puppy dog eyes until you were out of view. but you watch your boyfriend immediately perk up again when you walk through the door, night routine done and finally about to give him the attention he’d been missing during the few moments you’ve been gone. but yuuji’s arms wrap around you immediately when you push yourself into his lap, large palms grabbing at your hips to help you get comfortable as he smiles brightly — a soft “yayyy” spoken in the space between you.

“i missed you today, baby.” your blushy haired boyfriend hums when he finally has you on his lap, pulling you close enough for him to nuzzle into the crook of your neck as his cheek smooshes against your shoulder, feeling him wrap his biceps around you tightly as if you’ll disappear if he let go. “i missed you too, yuu.” you hum and your answer seems to make yuuji almost glow with how he brightens after, pulling away to smear a few too many ticklish kisses along your jaw and cheeks before he’s smiling against your lips.

“babyyyy, tell me about your day. do you have to leave early tomorrow? can we cuddle?” he smiles and you feel something burst and heat along your chest at the unfiltered sort of love you hear in his tone.

・✶ ｡ﾟFUSHIGURO MEGUMI

you weren’t too sure how megumi was going to react at first, finding him lying on your bed after a quick nap when you came in to wake him, smoothly sliding yourself onto his lap as he blinks the remnants of sleep from his eyes. it takes him a few moments to realise your positioning before his eyes are widening and he’s blinking up at you, a pretty dusting of pink sitting high on his cheeks as his lips jut out into a pout and he huffs. “w-what do you think you’re doing?” he grumbles, and you feel his fingers graze slightly along your calves as he still tries to avoid your gaze.

“i’m waking you up, ‘gumi.” you laugh, and megumi swears the sound makes him feel even warmer underneath you as he tries to hide the way his flush deepens. “y-yeah.. well im awake now.” he huffs again before his fingers are hesitantly grazing their way higher on your figure — featherlight touches along the dips of your body until they’re resting lightly on your waist to tap at the space, and you feel your heart bloom when you notice him stealing quick side glances in your direction. “you okay?” you ask, a little teasing given the effect having you so close seems to have on him, and you know he picks up on it when he grunts below you.

feeling megumi’s fingers tighten slightly at your words before he’s clearing his throat to answer. “tch, yeah. i just—i don’t wanna get up yet.”

・✶ ｡ﾟNANAMI KENTO

nanami had been working on a few things at his desk for majority of the day, mostly dealing with a few things for gojo and a few other peoples messes he had to clean up — so you’d decided to take him some coffee as an excuse to see him. there’s a natural furrow in his brows when you first enter the room but something blooms in your chest when you watch the expression soften at your presence — his head turning slowly to send you a gentle sort of smile that’s as handsome as it is tired.

“thank you, sweetheart.” nanami grunts, his voice a smooth lull when you place the cup of coffee down on his table, but you watch his eyes widen slightly when you nudge at his chair — although it only takes a few seconds for him to push it out after. it’s like he can read your mind and you’re thankful that he indulged in one of the more luxury, bigger desk chairs when you find yourself easily slinking into his lap. feeling nanami’s arm wrap around your hips a few seconds later before he resumes his work with the other hand, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck — only to feel his lips press a soft kiss against the dip of your shoulder after.

“not much longer, are you comfortable?” he asks earnestly as his lips move from where they’re resting against your skin, checking every so often to see if you’ve fallen asleep.

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

This is so cute!!!

— ♡ — 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 || 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 — ♡ —

Gojo’s in the middle of an important meeting, but chatting with his wife and daughter is his only priority.

“Satoru, can you please get off of your damn phone?”

Holding up a finger to the frustrated CEO as if to say, “give me a minute,” Gojo laughed casually as he kept his phone pressed against his ear.

The thirteen sharply dressed businessmen seated at the conference table all had their eyes fixated on the chatty sorcerer, who was asked to attend a very important meeting regarding the recent appearance of a special grade curse lurking around the company’s headquarters.

“Really?” Gojo said enthusiastically, leaning back in his office chair, swerving from side to side just a bit. “And what else did you do? What’d you learn at school today?”

Some of the impatient men were less aggravated once they realized who he was talking to — his beloved five year old daughter.

“You learned about the life cycle of a butterfly? Oh, that’s amazing . . . And you drew a picture of one? We’re just gonna have to hang it on the fridge then . . . Mommy packed you your favorite sandwich for lunch? Did you gobble it all up? Sounds like you had a fun day, muffin-”

“Satoru.”

The CEO called the sorcerer’s name again, but the man ignored him, grinning as he listened to his adorable daughter ramble on and on about her exciting day.

“Daddy’s gotta hang up soon, he’s in a very important meeting right now. Can you put mommy on the phone?”

As Gojo spoke sweetly to the young girl over the phone, he glared at the CEO, who sighed in utter defeat once the white-haired man still refused to get off of his phone.

“This is ridiculous, Gojo,” the older man grumbled. “It’s rude, unprofessional, and disrespectful to do this in the middle of a meeting!”

“Yeah?” Gojo raised his eyebrows. “If my daughter calls me, I’m going to answer. And you’re crazy if you think I’m not going to speak to my wife as well.”

“But we have a serious situation that needs to be discussed-”

“No, not really. This meeting is entirely unnecessary, considering I could just kill the curse and be done with it. My kid telling me about caterpillars matters more to me than anything you have to say right now, sir.”

For a moment, the big conference room was completely silent until Gojo spoke once again.

“Hi baby,” Gojo beamed at the sound of your beautiful voice in his right ear. “Did you have a good day? I miss you . . . What? The store ran out of rice? You’re right, that is ridiculous. Want me to stop at a different store on the way home? . . . I know what kind, sweetheart . . . I’ll be home before dinner, I promise . . . No, I love you more and that’s not up for debate, sorry . . . Alright, I gotta hang up too . . . Okay . . . Bye, baby.”

Once Gojo hung up, the CEO sighed once again, but this time, with relief. But, as he started to speak, Gojo instantly got up from his chair.

“Hey, where are you going?” The CEO shouted, watching as Gojo headed straight for the door, smiling causally with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m going to kill that curse so I can go home. My wife needs more rice and my daughter wants to show me her butterfly picture, so I’m not staying here for a stupid meeting.”

The CEO’s protests were cut off by Gojo shutting the door behind him as he left the conference room.

And, this was, perhaps, the quickest amount of time in which Gojo has ever killed a special grade curse. After all, he missed his beautiful family, and he’d always make it home, no matter what.

❛ TOO SWEET! ❜

geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.

total wc. 3.0k

warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise

an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…

he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”

“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.

choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.

choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.

he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..

it really was that bad…

“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”

“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.

it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”

your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.

one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.

he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.

“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”

“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”

his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.

“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”

geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”

“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.

and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.

geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.

“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.

you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.

“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”

he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.

his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.

“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.

the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.

“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.

it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.

his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.

“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.

geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“sweetheart..”

is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”

“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”

with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.

“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”

“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.

and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”

you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.

he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.

nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”

you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.

his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”

“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”

you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.

one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.

“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.

“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care. 

the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.

eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.

yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji. 

“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.

he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.

“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact. 

his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”

and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.

his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.

“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.

his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm. 

toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.

slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes. 

he came early.

toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.

“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan. 

“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.

“say what?”

he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”

“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face

“…you heard me, whore.”

GOJO ☆ SATORU

“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.

the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”

“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.

his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.

“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”

“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”

he was so desperate.

you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.

gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.

his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”

“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.

“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.

gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.

“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.

you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.

he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.

“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.

that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.

“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”

“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.

you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”

“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.

his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”

Sukuna is pissed.

The reason? You moved away from him in your sleep when he wanted to hold you close.

In your own subtle ways, you've always complained about how unaffectionate he is. You didn't explicitly say it, but he did notice how your mood would shift, your pretty little smiles barely masking your disappointment when he would do or say anything remotely cold or mean. And now that he was giving you what you wanted, you just roll away from him, depriving him of your warmth and the affection he expects you to reward him.

How you even managed to escape four of his arms to find your own corner of the bed was a big puzzle to him. You've always slept peacefully pressed to his side on most nights, and you didn't really move much once he had two of his arms wrapped around your frail form. Perhaps you were doing it on purpose after he had evidently upset you during supper by dismissing you when you asked about his day. There was nothing to tell, and though he understands that your concerns came from a good place, he still refused to tell you of the horrors of the world he found himself so deeply embroiled in.

Sukuna, however, brushed off the idea. You wouldn't dare. Or would you? He was just protecting you. Why would you hold that against him?

He chose not to entertain the thought, thinking it was just you moving in your sleep. And so, he reached for you, gently placing his arms over and underneath you to pull you closer. But it hadn't even been a minute of him holding you when you started letting out these seemingly irritated noises and shortly after, you were turning your back on him.

"What –" He stopped himself when you breathed in deeply, half expecting to hear sobs if you were truly upset with him, but then, your breathing rhythm returned to normal. You were still fast asleep.

Sukuna shrugged, already feeling his temper rising at the thought that you could sleep just fine without him. The thought of it annoyed him, and that was an understatement. He decided to move closer to you then, but as soon as he did, pressing your back on his bare chest, you started squirming, a dissatisfied groan leaving your lips.

At that, he rose slightly on his elbow, taking offense. "Woman, what is your problem?" he demanded, making you lie down flat on your back, startling you. "Is something ailing you?" This time, he spoke gently, watching as you slowly blinked up at his frowning face like you haven't got a clue what he's talking about. And then you closed your eyes before favoring your left side, going back to sleep.

"You –"

"What?" you whined without facing him, annoyed that your sleep was being disturbed.

Sukuna scoffed. You've really done it this time. Nobody dared speak to him that way. "What now? You don't want me anymore? I thought you wanted –"

In one swift movement, he found himself being tackled onto the bed as you turned around and threw yourself against him, immediately finding your spot in the crook of his neck. His two left arms instinctively wrapped around you, keeping you cradled in them as you snuggled closer, planting a kiss under his collarbone as if to appease him before you were falling back asleep.

"You could have just stayed like this –"

"Shh."

Did you just shush him? And as if to punctuate it, you raised your hand, your fingers blindly yet tenderly brushing his lips and staying there.

"Wife, you are aware I have two mouths, aren't you?" he spoke against your fingers, fighting a smile.

You moved your head back to smirk at him as you threw a leg over his abdomen right where his other mouth was, your thigh preventing it from saying anything.

"There. Problem solved."

#BUILD-A-BLOB !?

bad ☆ summary. good news? your nephew’s birthday gift to you definitely works. bad news? turns out to be a cranky four armed creature that nags at everything you do. good / bad news? he’s smokin’ hot and you wanna fuck him nasty. seriously, what the fuck.

cw. explicit content. foul language. monsterfūcking. blobkuna to true form!kuna. double penetration. anāl. deepthroăting. cunningūlus. pūssy slapping. bāckshots. belly bulge. creāmpie. degradation (he calls you mean things) overstimulation. dumbification. mentions of drug usage. sukuna speaks like he has a stick up his ass. pōrn without plot. 4.4k words.

rena’s ☆ note. guys i’m giggling so hard at the gif HELP

“the fuck are ya starin’ at?”

technically speaking, you think you’re looking at a seven foot monster with more arms than you can count, more mouths than necessary and much more tattoos than you can see. just a minute ago, this entity had been an ugly formless blob with a singular eye and bucked teeth that sat against your window, forming incoherent sentences as “me want water”, “me need light” or your personal favorite, “me want you to fuck off”.

you’d left to check on your plants momentarily, coming back to your living space to find that the blob had transformed into a . . . human? something along the word that you use very loosely.

he stands tall and proud and very naked— though unimpressed, toned arms crossed and ass cheeks facing the world outside. you can see the reflection of his clenched buns through the glass and— is that a fucking tramp stamp?

“i’m thinking. . . what used to be my birthday gift,” you answer slowly, brows pinched in confusion as your head tilts. it’s below you, sure, but you can’t help staring at what’s below him. surely it’s the weed catching up to you because there’s no way that, “is that— holy shit, is that two dicks?”

“perverted woman,” the man (question mark) clicks his tongue, as if he isn’t the one dressed in his birthday suit, asshole bearing for pedestrians outside to file public indecency on you. “your reaction suggests you’ve never witnessed the presence of two at once.”

“well. . . no,” he stares at you as if you’re the one with four arms and abnormally long legs. you crouch down, index finger scratching at the corner of your mouth to analyze it some more. you were curious, nothing more! you feel the multitude of his eyes trailing your movements, daring you to proceed forward. he truly doesn’t know you.

they stack atop one another, though both sizes are nothing to scoff at. packing in both girth and length, they stand tall and semi hardened, with curves to the right. he’s got prominent veins running all over his skin, mushroom tips an angry shade of reddish brown. frowning, you peek your head lower to confirm following suspicions,

his tone is rough along the edges, “i do not possess four testicles.” damn it.

“boo, you suck,” you sigh, indeed disappointed by the confirmation. you’d think a monster with monstrous limbs and monstrous cocks would own monstrous balls. “whatever.” you stand back up on your feet, though you’re met with hard ripples of glistening abs.

“so like,” you pause, now shamelessly staring at his torso with shimmering eyes. he’s ripped with an eight pack, waist snatched like a motherfucker and skin inked like a colouring book. “what do i call you?”

you think you hear him chuckle, “how foolish,” a mouth then appears on his stomach, to which you jerk back from how sudden it was. your brows jump to your hairline, eyes widening as teeth bare at you menacingly. “it is common decency to introduce yourself firsthand. have you no manners in the presence of a king?”

“a who?” you squawk, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. this four-armed freak was a king? from where exactly? you shake your head, as if to turn off your inner monologues and quiet the voices down, “right, right. erm, you can call me y/n.”

he repeats your name slowly, followed by a deep chuckle. the rumble of your name against his voice sends a weird tingle down your gut, as you crane your neck upwards to finally look him in the face.

you gulp. damn it, he was attractive all around. though morally questionable, you found his features dashing. sure, there was the weird thing stuck in the side of his face that resembled a mixture of flesh and wood. and yeah, he had an additional set of slender eyes. however, his facial harmony somehow blended perfectly. his facial structure was sharp all around, from his nose bridge to his jawline, and his ears with pierced.

what more could anybody want?

blame it on the sativa or the fact you hadn’t been fucked in a while, but it was your birthday and you want your birthday gift, damn it. there shouldn’t be anything wrong with that— the pulsing at your core had your thighs rubbing together subtly (you hoped) (he smirked when he noticed your legs shifting) (fuck, he already knows).

“you will address me as sukuna, mortal.” he says instead, one of his arms mounting to grasp at a piece of your hair. he’s beefy, big biceps surrounding your peripherals as they flex hard. he twirls your hair between his fingers, and shit, you’re gonna need his nail technician’s reference.

“you talk like you have a stick up your ass,” your voice sounds distant, as distracted as you are, perverted eyes trailing to follow the bulging of his muscles. even his forearm is sexy, a large vein running course beneath his skin amongst others. “you ask for my name and choose to call me mortal? corny.”

“i am not a product of this time,” he riddles, tugging at the strand in his hold. the searing pain of his tug at your hair has you moaning— in agony or pleasure, who truly knows— and before you know it, he spreads the rest of his large fingers at your scalp, “you say i speak as if i have a stick up my ass,” shivers run down your spine when his fingernails scratch at your head, “but really it is you who wants my stick up yours, huh?”

you blink. how the fuck did he know? “th-that’s not even remotely true—”

“do not lie,” another arm lifts to cup at your face. his index rests beneath your jaw as his thumb sits at your chin. you feel the sharp edges of his nails grazing at your skin, “your scent is rather . . . pungent.”

you feel heat quickly spread to your cheeks and your panties effortlessly dampening. he smirks, dipping his thumb into your parted mouth, before scrunching his nose into a whiff, “ah, there it is again.”

the pad of his thumb swipes against your bottom lip, skin collecting your saliva before rubbing the fluid all over your mouth. you feel the tip of his nail poking into the flesh, and your brows furrow, “and you called me the perverted one.”

“that remains true.” another— jeez, how many more— arm snakes at your waist. it creeps below your shirt and sits at your bare skin, a touch so warm it sends jolts of electricity across your limbs. his hand rests at your lower belly, and when a wet tongue drags itself across your sensitive skin, you clamp your lips down around his thumb in a whimper, “you’re an obedient one. i think i’ll have fun with you.”

your brows furrow as your cunt clenches. his smirk deepens and, fuck you really need to stop doing that, “have fun with me?”

“it has been a while since i’ve fooled around with a mortal,” he hums, slipping his thumb out of your mouth. there’s a thin string of saliva connecting from your lips to his fingertip, and you hate how you already crave the salty flesh back in your mouth. “let us see just how weak the human body truly is.”

somewhere along the lines, you find yourself on your knees in your living room, carpet digging into your kneecaps as your fingers interlock at your back. your jaw aches, to the point of snapping as two fat cocks shove themselves down your throat. you breathe through your nostrils as your mouth is clearly occupied, fat tears dotting at your lash line and dribbles of saliva slipping past your lips and down his cocks.

two of his hands grasp at your head as leverage, hips thrusting up and down your throat. the gags that escape you are pornographic, throat muscles clenching around the intrusion. fuck, the strong musk of his pubic hairs cloud your senses and overwhelm your mind— driving you dizzy in arousal.

“loosen up yer throat,” sukuna commands, though you find it contradictory as another one of his abnormally large hands wrap themselves around your throat. he presses just lightly, as if to trace over the bulge of his dicks inside of you, but the lack of oxygen has your body liquifying in heat. you think you see stars, and your pupils start to dilate. “c’mon mortal, don’t pass out on me now— we’ve only just begun.”

easy for you to say, you roll your eyes, though complying to his orders. shit, it’s really hard to breathe but you can’t deny you love how objectifying all of this feels. bounding your own hands back, kneeled in front of this king, hair grouped up in one hand to tug onto. he was using you as if you were merely a toy for his own pleasure, mushroom tips repeatedly abusing the walls of your throat.

your cunt clenches around air, gushing more of your essence against the flimsy material of your panties. his stomach clenches tightly, as do his thigh muscles, the embodiment of man in front of you, destroying your throat.

fuck, your clit throbs.

the king coos at you degradingly, ruby eyes narrowing down at your figure, “awnn, ‘s it too much for ya?” you feel a wad of spit land on your cheek, and despite the nastiness of the actions, the filthiness has you clenching your thighs together. of course he finds pleasure in your desperation, leaning back further into the couch to cock his head at you, “humpin’ on yerself like a desperate slut beggin’ for a proper dicking. how pathetic,”

you nod your head eagerly, as your mouth fails to express just how badly you do want him. he’s so deep down your throat, you swear you feel him near your heart. the sting at your scalp plus the lack of oxygen and your need to have him stuff you full drives you wild with want— so desperate that tears leak through your eyes, stream down your cheeks and land right at his dicks.

“mhm, i’ll take care of ya,” sukuna cuts himself off with a deep groan, sliding further down into his seat. he shifts his hips deeper down your throat, and you gag terribly loud, “you hungry, mortal? open wide and, fuck, take what i give ya—” another grunt leaves him, and as does thick ropes of cum do.

your eyes widen as you’re greeted with hot cum shooting down your throat. it’s creamy, thick and so, so much of it that you’re certain swallowing it all would be impossible. your cheeks hollow as you attempt in your best efforts to gulp him down, the flavour of salty semen bursting at your taste buds.

“greedy bitch,” he chuckles through a moan, grinding his hips in rotations as he rides down the high. sweat dribbles down the crevices of his abs, stomach clenching hard as he empties his balls in you. “thaaat’s it—shit, not fuckin’ bad.”

when he finally pulls out, you gasp loudly for the sweet air you had been deprived of. your body trembles as you release your own hold, hands flying up to grasp at his thick thighs. your fingernails scrape at his skin as your chest heaves.

“y’re so,” you pant, and you can barely register how broken your voice sounds. did his cocks destroy your vocal chords already? “y’re so fuckin’. . . mean.”

“too much?” sukuna cackles, though he’s nowhere near sounding apologetic. his fingers cupping your face swipe at fallen tears on your cheeks. at the feel of a wet tongue licking at your damp skin, you pout in retaliation, brows furrowed and swollen lips puckered, “better get it together, ‘m gonna stretch that pussy out.”

damn it— he had such a way with words. you subconsciously lean your cheek further into his touch, and the grin he gives you is barbaric, “face down, ass up.”

so yeah, you find yourself with your cheek pressed into the softness of your couch, hips pulled up and thighs spread as sukuna feasts. the panties you once wore stuffed in your mouth, they muffle the wanton sounds that rip out your abused throat.

you feel his tongue lap at your folds hungrily, fingers spreading your pussy lips apart for better access. he tongue fucks into your hole, lips sucking and nibbling at your clit with precision. wet heat intrudes your insides and have your stomach tightening.

fingernails scratching at the couch, your back arches as you grasp at anything for support. having multiple mouths should be illegal— you feel tongues trailing all over your thighs and the dip in your back, you feel them rimming at your backside. you even think you feel one diving into your ass.

“mmph, m‘kunaaa!” you wail, toes curling as you push your hips further into his face. you’d never been eaten out as good as he is, nose deep in your cunt as your insides get devoured. you’re so overwhelmed— your puffy clit secreting essence as a slick tongue flicks at the bean.

a hand slaps once, twice at your ass as another pair of hands grip at your plush flesh. “shut th’fuck up,” he speaks into you, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers up your spine. you roll your eyes to the back of your skull, foot shaking uncontrollably. when the hands cupping at your breast begin tugging at your nipples, tongues flicking the stiff bud, you feel your dam erupt.

“mmfuuuuckkk!” you whine, as your cunt gushes in his face. he never lets up, tongue repeatedly scissoring your hole as he swallows your juices. you’re squirting so much it drips all over his face and down the suede couch, down your thighs. you think your soul had been taken by this damn near succubus with how long it takes for you to come back to your senses.

he pulls back with a nasty smack from his lips to your lower ones, using the back of his hand to wipe at any excess fluids, “sweet cunt,” he praises you, and you weakly whine, body drained of energy as you fall limp into the soaked couch. you’re out of it, bottom lip quivering as your limbs tingle in bliss— you feel your lids growing heavier by the second but sukuna is having none of that, “aht aht— where the fuck d’you think yer goin’?”

you feel pair of hands pull your hips back up and another grab a handful of your hair in a steady hold. you’re immediately pulled up on all fours, and you whimper at the firm blows he lands yet again on your ass.

he lifts himself on his knees, and you feel his hardnesses rub against the curve of your booty, “told you i was gon’ stretch this pussy out— ‘m a man of my fuckin’ word.” and shit, you think you push your ass back against his leaking cocks, dragging the beady fluids all over the softness of your skin.

your back arches sinfully as you spit out the soaked panties from your mouth and onto the floor. the slide of his dicks in between your thighs has your stomach heating in lust, the drags of his tips at your clit reenergizing you faster than you’d like to admit.

“mmhm, that’s it,” he grumbles into the supple skin at your neck, grazing his fangs teasingly at the flesh and his warm breath further dampening your skin. the large hands that cupped at your waist now lean you forwards against the arm of the couch, and you suddenly feel a lot of blood rushing to your brain. your arms feel weak as they support your body weight, your back arches like a cat and legs stretched out—

holy shit, are you hanging off the fucking couch?

“give up and you fall face first onto the damn floor,” the king cackles, as if the funniest joke in the world, as if your cunt wasn’t gushing your essence— begging to be filled and tore apart. your eyes widen comically as your knees buckle just slightly at the feel of his cock rubbing at your clenching hole, “try and keep up, mortal.”

sukuna grips at the base of his first dick, aligning it to your entrance. you hear him hiss as he collects your cum around the circumference of his tip, fingernails digging deep into your waist. fuck, that hurts so good. any further deeper and you’re certain he’d draw blood.

now, you were definitely no athlete the way he took his sweet time teasing you both. you had barely finished coming down from your previous orgasm, and with the excessive blood seeping into your brain, you felt yourself dizzying quicker than you’d anticipated, “kunaaa— hurry, i can’t hold out any longer— ngh fuuuck!”

your nails claw at the wooden floor when you felt him finally bottom out. holy fuck— how many inches was he packing? you could physically feel your pussy stretching out to his size, to accommodate to the intrusion of his ruthless cock into your tight hole. the sudden penetration hurt in a way that had your clit tingling, walls clamping down as if to seize him from moving any further.

“mortal,” he groans deeply, and there goes another spank at your ass. naturally, you clamp down harder. “quit— fuck, squeezin’ so tight. how the fuck am i s’posed to dick you down when you’re grippin’ me like a damn vice?”

“‘s too much!” you argue, though your hips roll around as if to adjust to his unreasonable size. you feel more tears flooding your eyes, and your core aches for a mean pounding. “just. . . gimme a minute,”

“a minute?” he repeats, though his tone is far from understanding. there’s a hint of mischievous dripping from words, and shit, he’s already pulling out. your cunt negates your words, desperately latching onto his length as if to reprimand him from exiting any more. he notices your contradiction, “doesn’t seem like yer pussy needs a minute. gotta tell you baby, i don’t like liars.”

your toes curl as he fucks himself back into you. the moan that rips from your throat is far beneath your ability to stop, and you squeeze your eyes shut. he repeatedly pounds into your cunt, the more the strokes, the deeper it goes. he may as well create an indent in your guts with how intense his thrusts are.

“hnng, ohmyfuckkk,” your back only arches further, the delicious burn of his dick stretching your velvet walls driving your mind delirious. his pace is insane— with every meet of his hips at your ass, you jerk forward, tits jiggling in the process. you feel hands spreading your cheeks for better access, alongside a wad of spit land at your cunt, sealed by a nice slap on your reddened ass.

he’s crushing your cervix. it hurts but you don’t want him to stop. it’s all too overwhelming— the repetitive slaps of his heavy balls at your sensitive clit, the way he digs himself deep into you, rolling his hips to reach all sensitive spots inside your spongy self. god, you can hear how sinful the point of contact between both your bodies as it echoes in the living room.

“creamy fuckin’ pussy,” sukuna grunts, tone so low you assumed he was more so speaking to himself. your wetness had submerged into a thick essence of cream around the base of his shaft, further easing the ruthless slides of his dick into your cunt. you don’t ignore how his second cock twitches against your asshole. “you tryna snatch my damn soul? tsk, greedy slut.”

your arms are giving out. your thighs burn and furthermore— your cunt aches, badly. he’s giving and giving, pounding so mercilessly into your pussy it was as if he were mad at you. you’d never been fucked so profoundly, his tip bullying into you so meanly with the additional mix of blood rushing into your head— fuck, you need a break.

still, sukuna seems two steps ahead of you, slithering an extra arm to your nape and gripping at your hair. two other hands drag your hips backwards in place, simultaneously pushing himself back where he’d once been— snug in the comfort of your warm pussy. “nah, nah, don’t you fuckin’ run away. fuckin’ take what i give you—” he holds you by the hips and lifts you up and down on his cock. you feel your feet leave the couch as a majority of the weight you held onto your palms were lifted. “this is what you wanted. mhm, be a good bitch and own up to your consequences.”

you’re babbling, the idea of you being a toy again for his use, the new angle of his cock protruding inside has drool dribbling down your chin and your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. “too d-deep, feel you in my— nghhh, h-heart.”

“‘s that so?” he chuckles heartily, and your mind is too numb to register the weird sting that grows at your forbidden zone. you’re too fucked out to notice what he has in store for you, “let’s double that shit. pierce right through yer mortal heart and mark it my territory.”

a sharp wail erupts, as you’re now filled to the brim with two girthy cocks. it’s an uncomfortable stretch in an area you were far from accustomed to, but in your current position, you’re nowhere near able to stop him. you’re not too sure you want him too— his cocks rubbing against the thin linen that separates your cunt to your ass.

holy fuck, your brain is turning into mush. he’s fucking into you like a madman— both your holes abused by the same pair of hips diving deep into your insides. your limbs feel numb, despite now being lifted into the air. he’s fucking manhandling you, hands holding all regions of your body still as he grinds his cocks in. what an out of body experience— head and tits jerking to the rhythm his hips set.

your guts are on fire, and you recognize this feeling all too well. the same one that has your eyes crossing to the centre of your face and your wet tongue lolling out of your mouth. your breaths are cut short, your tummy bulging into the shape of the king that’s taken control of your entire being.

holy shit.

“atta girl,” sukuna whistles when you spray him unexpectedly. your muscles clench as does your cunt and ass around his dicks, body trembling from an outwardly orgasm racking over you. sukuna never lets up, your crying only spurring him on more, “oh yeahhh, now that’s an ugly face. hah! turns me on.”

you’re snivelling, and you think you feel snot dripping down your nose. through the window where this creature was once an ugly form on nothingness, you watch your reflection. my goodness— how is he not stopping? you feel like you’re gonna die, your soul getting snatched from various regions, the repetitive strokes of his dicks at your most sensitive areas. holy shit, you’re gonna die.

“c’mon, entertain me some more,” he accentuates each word with powerful thrusts, and in return, receives splutters of more juices. you’re leaking like a damn faucet, dripping down your thighs and soaking your soiled couch. your fluids leak down to meet his pair of balls, now lubricated as they slap more intensely at your abused clit.

you’re left wordless. seriously, arms as limp as noodles as they hang to your side, head lolled forward. your mind feels so empty yet so full, the familiar pain of overstimulation now taking over your body. your muscles spasm violently around him, uncontrollably as sukuna takes and takes more of you.

“thankyouthankyouthankyou,” although not entirely sure what you’re thanking him for, the words slip past your kiss-bitten lips and into the thick air. you feel him press his own mouth at the column of your sweaty back, and your chants continue, “thankyouthankyou—”

“what an obedient lil thing,” sukuna coos, and you feel an extra tongue flick greedily at your tight bundle of nerve. your body begins to seize, stomach caving deeply in as you succumb to the pressure, “who’s my good bitch, hmm?”

“m-me.” you answer so weakly that it unsatisfies him. the tongue torturing your clit now bites down onto the bud and you cry out loudly. shit, you’re squirting again.

“i said,” he repeats himself with more finality. the wet squelching sounds of his cocks bullying at your holes overpower his own voice, and you can’t stop the shaking of your body. and with every pause, his cocks slam further and further in, “who’s. my. good. bitch.”

“meeee!” you hic, drool be damned as it seeps past parted mouth and down your throat. god, this was so above you and yet, here you were, getting fucked like your life depended on it. it hurts, hurts so good that you simultaneously want to push and pull from his embrace.

he holds you up higher, and your legs wrap around his waist with your back tucked into his chest. his hands slide from your waist to your inner thighs, now holding you tight against him. your head falls back onto his shoulder and in the midst of your daze, you feel a fingernail trailing down the slope of your neck.

“yeahhh,” he chuckles darkly, eyes narrowing onto your fucked out figure. his eyes then flick to the imprint of his cock penetrating at your belly, followed by the inconsistent tremors of your body. “‘s what i fuckin’ thought.”

somewhere along the line, you’re left boneless in his strong hold as he fucks and fucks and fucks. he’s everywhere at once, a presence so dominating that you’re left as if you have no other choice but to surrender. but that’s exactly all there is to it, no? a king using his pussy to his satisfaction.

“‘m gonna breed this slutty body full of my cum, make you mine. cause that’s all yer good for— ain’t that right baby?” you nod, because of course you do. he’s pounding some more and more, and the warmth that fills your belly to the brim is anything but surprising. he’s grunting in your ear, a string of profanities flowing into the air. he’s cumming so much from both cocks that it leaks past your bruised holes.

his hips roll some more, and both your cunt and ass clench around him greedily, milking him out for every drop he’s worth. he hums against your damp face, dragging the tip of nose through a multitude of fluids. you have a weak smile gracing your lips, and his arms tighten possessively around your tinier frame, “happy birthday indeed, mortal.”

oh my god, you’re gonna die.

. . .what the fuck did i just write.

— Relationship Headcanons — ~ S. Gojo + S. Geto ~

╰⇢ What your relationship is like with these two

Pairing: Gojo x Reader x Geto

Contents: Poly relationship, Fluff, No chronological order,

⭑ The two of them obviously had something going on before you were even in the picture

⟡ They were probably already dating or knew about their feelings for each other

⭑ And they were quick to pick up on your feelings for them too

⟡ You all just started feeling guilty for liking each other (Especially Geto and Gojo)

⭑ It wasn't until Gojo kind of just outed everyone for their feelings and you all talked it out

⟡ Geto fell first for both of you, then you fell harder, but Gojo was ultimately hit the hardest with his feelings

⭑ You guys progressed your relationship very slow with the utmost care

⟡ It was rough at first, but you got the hang of it

⭑ Lots. Of. Communication.

⟡ You and Gojo can never be trusted alone together. Ever

⭑ Geto usually finds himself in the middle of you and Gojo bickering

⟡ One of your favourite things to do together is just sit on the couch all tangled up with each other

⭑ Usually where your head rests on Geto’s lap and Gojo’s head rests on your stomach

⟡ Geto lets you style his hair

⭑ Gojo made sure to buy the biggest bed possible for your shared room

⟡ When you moved in together, the hardest thing to do was decorate

⭑ All of you had different ideas

⟡ But you guys managed to meet in the middle

⭑ Sometimes, Gojo makes you and Geto wear matching pyjamas with him

⟡ You'll watch movies together, many of which are Disney ones that you and Gojo can scream your heart out to

“I say we watch Frozen.” Gojo yells as he reaches for the remote

“Nuh uh! We watched Frozen last time! I wanna watch Moana!” You tackle him to the ground before he could grab the controller.

“Rock paper scissors!” Your boyfriend tried to push you off of him.

“Deal!” You scurry off of him, sitting up and staring him down.

The two of you stared each other down, preparing for the duel of your life when you heard music coming from the TV. Geto took the unclaimed remote and started playing ‘The Greatest Showman’

“Are you two going to get over here, or am I going to watch this movie by myself?” Geto gestured to the empty spots on the couch.

⭑ Geto has a whole folder of you and Gojo being stupid together (Pictures, videos, screenshots)

⟡ There has never been a single time where you managed to go on a peaceful date

⭑ Always one of you gotta get hit on

⟡ Which is why most of your dates involve ordering food online and staying home

⭑ When you can't sleep, you'll walk to the kitchen to make a warm drink, but you simply getting out of bed is enough to wake them up

⟡ So you'll be standing there doing your own thing when you feel one of them on each side, leaning on your shoulders

⭑ They can't and won't go to bed without you squished between them

You were standing by the kettle, waiting for the water to boil. It was another one of those sleepless nights, so you decided to make yourself something to drink.

Hopefully, you’ll be able to sleep after. You continue to stand by the counter, cup in hand, when you feel someone lean against you.

Or rather, two people.

“What are you two doing here?” You feel two heads on your shoulders.

“You weren’t in bed.” Gojo mumbled out.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You sigh. “Just go back to bed, I’ll come back soon.”

You thought that was the end of it, until you felt arms wrap around your waist and hoist you up over their shoulder. Geto carried you all the way back to bed where the two of them just cuddled you until you gave up struggling and just accepted your fate.

⟡ You have an inside joke about being their "personal nurse"

⭑ If their missions are out of town, they'll bring you back little trinkets

⟡  Simply because it reminds them of you

⭑ Sometimes, you'll all just be laying in bed when the two of them will just randomly start caressing parts of your body

⟡ They let you try nail polish colours on them

⭑ Geto would let you paint all of his nails the same color whereas Gojo would pick multiple for you to do on his

“What color am I doing this time?” You pass Geto the small bin of colorful nail polish. He sifts through all the options before choosing one.

“This one.” He hands you a bottle of light blue nail polish.

“I love this one.” You shake the tube to mix the polish as Geto places his hand on the table for you to paint his nails.

As you prepare to paint the first coat, Gojo bursts through the door. “You’re painting his nails without me!” He points at you dramatically

“Nuh uh. You weren’t home.” Geto shoots back.

“I am now!”

“Then go choose a color. Or multiple if you’d like.” You push the basket in his direction.

⟡ You guys have spa nights at least once a week on weekends

⭑ Nightmares have always been a normal part of your relationship

⟡ Whenever one of you has a nightmare, the other two are quick to respond, giving hugs and reassurance

⭑ There have been times where you and Geto walk in on Gojo dancing his heart out with headphones on (You got videos)

⟡ On those rare days when none of you guys have anything to do, you’ll just lay in bed together doing your own things and bask in each other’s presence

⭑ Sometimes, when you and Gojo are bored and need something to do, you’ll find Geto minding his own business and smother him in kisses

⟡ Late night convenience store trips

“Hey, hey, heeeyyyy.” Gojo poked your cheek. “Can we go to the convenience store?”

“Go ask your boyfriend.” You swat his hand away.

“He told me to ask you!”

So that’s how Geto was going to play. He was hoping you’d be the tired one to say ‘no’ to Gojo. Well in that case… “Yeah sure. Go get Suguru and tell him we’re going.” You smirk.

That was enough for the sorcerer to run out of the room and pull Geto out of bed. When he sees you smiling at him, he knows he should have been the one to decline.

⭑ Sometimes, Geto falls asleep on the couch after a long day, which gives you and Gojo the opportunity to draw on his face (And take selfies)

⟡ Gojo would be the one to suggest doing ridiculous things like going out at midnight, but you’d be the one to agree with it and drag Geto out too

⭑ You guys have a joined playlist full of very different songs that you all listen to religiously

⟡ Like- it’s got some Chase Atlantic, Taylor Swift, Country (Geto insisted), and so much more

⭑ Gojo has a ban on cooking without supervision

“Suguru… do you smell that…?” Geto closed his book at the question.

“I do… it kind of smells like it’s burning…” He looks around.

As if a light bulb lit up, the two of you suddenly remembered you gave Gojo the task of making dinner tonight. You immediately stood up and ran into the kitchen.

“Satoru?!” You’re greeted with the smell of smoke filling the air.

“Heyyy” The male in question frantically tries to cover the disaster. Geto comes in right after you to fan the smoke out and clean up the mess.

Thus resulting in Gojo being banned from ever cooking by himself. Permanently.

⟡ Usually it's Geto that'll cook, but some days you'll just order in and sit on the couch

⭑ Their parts of the room is just covered in gifts that you've given to them throughout the years (Even before you started dating)

⟡ You guys always know if something is bothering one of you

⭑ Gojo has a soft spot for your pouty faces

⟡ He's the one you'd go to if you wanted to do something slightly dangerous reckless

⭑ Geto is the one who just walks away, pretending not to know either of you

⟡ Whenever you bake things, you make sure to place a few of the desserts aside to cover with more icing than the rest to accommodate Gojo’s massive sweet tooth

⭑ You and Gojo spend an ungodly amount of money to buy sweets for Geto to eat on his missions

⟡ Sometimes, the only way that you can get Gojo to stop acting like a little shit is to threaten his cuddle time

⭑ All of their friends wonder how Gojo managed to pull the two of you (And they make fun of him for it)

⟡ Geto is the most protective out of all of you

⭑ Gojo knows the two of you can handle your own, but Geto would be the one to blame himself if anything happened to either of you

⟡ You each have some sort of accessory that reminds you of each other

⭑ Like you wear a necklace that has two charms on it (They each made one for you)

⟡ They each wear a bracelet that you made for them

⭑ And a ring that they bought for each other

⟡ You’ll unconsciously refer to them as “My boys” when your talking to friends or out in public and it drives them crazy

“I know! And then I heard...” You’re sitting in a cafe, catching up with a bunch of your old friends.

“I don’t know what she was thinking.” Shoko took a sip of her coffee. “I’m so glad we were able to meet up today.”

It was a rare occasion where all of you were free and able to get together and catch up. You and Shoko were sitting with Mei Mei and Utahime while Geto and Gojo sat further away with Nanami.

“Yeah, I missed you guys so much. It’s not the same as texting!” You sigh. You took a quick peek at the time and realised it was time to go. “Shoot. Sorry girls, my boys and I have some plans.”

As if on queue, both males stand up and walk over to you, a slight blush on their faces.

⭑ They will follow you for hours in a shopping mall

⟡ And when you try on clothes at the store, they'll wait patiently outside for you to show them the look

⭑ Often times, you'll come back home to a heated make-out session between the two (And then join them)

⟡ You and Gojo always beg for Geto to summon his rainbow dragon “for research purposes”

⭑ He always shuts you down but eventually summons it anyways in order to shut the two of you up

⟡ You guys all trade clothes

⭑ Sometimes, you’ll be walking around in the house wearing Geto’s t-shirt and Gojo’s jacket, and you’d see them walking around in your hoodies

⟡ Both you and Gojo share hair and skin products and Geto thinks it's ridiculous and unnecessary

⭑ You'll then proceed to make fun of Geto for using those 3-in-1 shower products

⟡ All that teasing and yet, he still has flawless skin compared to you and Gojo

⭑ Gojo is a German Shepard boyfriend

⟡ Geto is a Doberman boyfriend

⭑ Both are loyal and loving towards you

⟡ You guys definitely have a group chat (Hot bitches + Gojo)

⭑ And the best contact names for each other (None of them actually have any of your actual names in it)

⟡ You have Gojo saved as ‘Sugar Daddy 💅’ and Geto as ‘Hot Bitch #2’

⭑ You and Gojo are ‘Idiot 1 💜’ and ‘Idiot 2 😐’ in Geto’s contacts (Guess who’s who)

⟡ Geto is ‘Supervisor  😔’ and you’re ‘Sugar Baby 🤭’ for Gojo

↳ Let me know if you guys would actually read little snippets of the group chat cause I’ll definitely make some if you will

~ Please don’t repost onto other platforms! ~

18+ × MDNI × NSFW

SPICY TOJI FUSHIGURO HEADCANON(S?)

Includes: giving head. that's it. (sorta?) fem!reader; toji is being toji.

Notes: i'm høřnyyy that's a big boy, so be ready to READ; banners by @/roseschoices and @/magicalboything ♡

× Toji likes to be on the receiving end of things. That about sums it up. Nothing else needs to be said.

(Insert joke: *proceeds to write a manuscript*.)

× He's relentless. He's gruff. He's straightforward.

× And he's so hørny it's preposterous.

× You'd be dressing up to go out/to work/to visit your parents, it don't matter. If he so much as caught a glimpse of you wearing that pair of lingerie, it's settled - you're sucking him off that instant.

× "Don't gimme that look. It's your fault." He'd have the bloody audacity to murmur against the shell of your ear with an impish grin as he gropes your hips from behind, pressing his clothed erection into your ass.

× Toji definitely blames it on you each time just to mock the living daylight out of you. It gets him off even better than a well-done bj.

× Your little reactions are always funny to him. How you'd pout and try to reason with his cock his pent up energy by pointing out that you're already running late, and that you'll have to fix your make up again afterwards, and that it's a damn family dinner and you can't just show up there like a complete mess, and yada yada yada-

× Toji simply rolls his eyes and shuts you up with a kiss, turning that surprised yelp of yours into a muffled whimper as he grinds against your forms again.

× There's too much tongue, spit, teeth, too much of everything all at once; and it's just mere seconds till you push yourself back, gasping for air, your lipstick smudged into that sloppy mess you so desperately tried to avoid.

× To you, it's a hindrance, but still an easy fix. To Toji, it's yet another turn-on. Besides, since your make up routine was already ruined, he might as well demolish it completely and paint your face with his cum.

× There's no reasoning with him. He'll always find a way to get what he wants; and if he wants to fuck your face, then so he shall do, duh.

× His lips stretch into a taunting grin, your lipstick smeared on his mouth and chin. The sight you can't peel your eyes off of.

× "I said don't gimme that look, doll. It's on you, too."

× Needless to say, he gets exactly what he wants after this.

× You, kneeling before him with darkened eyes. Him, lowering his pants to let his cock spring free and graze your lips.

× Definitely grips you under the jaw and taps the leaking tip on your chin.

× "Come on, baby. Open up. Take responsibility." He'd coo at you just to taunt a bit more.

× A guttural groan escapes him when you oblige and envelop your lips around him.

× Without a doubt would grab a fistfull of your hair and buck his hips forward to push himself further into the welcoming heat of your mouth, making you whimper.

× WITHOUT A DOUBT would urge you to d33pthr0at him. Cross my heart, hope to die, but this man just thrives to see you choking on his cock.

× Till your nose is nuzzled into his pubes, am i right, TIKTOK COMMENT SECTION, HMM??

× Your nails dig into his thighs as he fucks your teary eyed face. He grunts in delight, seeing how the lipstick gets smeared along his length, how you drool on him and hollow your cheeks so obediently.

× Your jaw literally goes numb. There's a lot to swallow.

× Speaking of which, you WILL swallow. He thrives to watch you do it, can't get enough of it.

× Although, he won't warn you when he's close. Not with words, at least.

× At some point he'll just hiss through gritted teeth and pull out just enough to let his cock balance on your tongue, and then he's shooting streaks of his seed both on your face and inside your mouth.

× It's thick and salty in just the perfect way.

× Definitely growls. Maybe groans. You're too dizzy to tell after he fucked your face stupid.

× Would firmly grab you under the chin afterwards. It's more gentle this time, though.

× Grazes his thumb over your lips, smudging your saliva and his cum together.

× Ain't no way he would miss the opportunity to flash you another signature grin of his. He's just so proud of himself at this moment; he can NOT not mock you again.

× "Look at you now... such a mess. My bad."

× A HANDSOME, CHARISMATIC PEST. Fair AND square.

× You'll forgive him later, though. Because he knows how to deliver.

"Cancel your plans for tonight, doll. I can't let you walk outta here knowing those pretty panties are soaked wet for me."

× EXTRA (my fave crack headcanon, sorry not sorry) ×

× I know you all want it to be true that he loves to eat you out first thing in the morning, but...

× HEAR ME OUT, DON'T GO-

× This probably took place somewhere early in your relationship-situationship. Like, a few months half a year in.

× You both were chilling out on the couch, just chatting about everything and nothing at the same time when that exact topic came up and you felt the urge to point out that you don't remember him ever showing you such courtesy. Like, EVER.

× He snorts and waves his hand dismissively, so you pout and try to reason with him like always; bringing up all sorts of pros to convince him.

× And he kinda listens..? But without paying much of attention. So you frown some more, because your boyfriend is a dick.

× "Toji, seriously, how about next time you give me head for a change, hm?"

× Pause. He stares at you with a deadpan expression for a few silent moments before he blurts out with the same straight face:

× "For a change i'll do anything to you, doll."

× Eh??

× You blink, puzzled out of your mind.

× That face you make cracks him up and he snorts in amusement before cackling out loud.

× Such reaction cracks you as well and you proceed to laugh alongside him.

× Because you think it's a joke. Like, it has to be, he made it clear, IT'S A JOKE-

× It's not. He's a broke ass bitch, he doesn't play around when it comes to money.

× How did you find out? Oh, well...

× His two digits were inside you, preparing you for him as you squirm and beg and you were just so, so close-

× He stops and slips his fingers out of you as you whine in protest, but he only looks at you, all deadpan and serious and says:

× "If ya want more of that treatment, ya better be ready to pay up. My services ain't cheap, baby."

× EH?!

× You'd think in this case he'd take money every time he fucks you, but no. He gets the pleasure, you get the expenses.

× You begrudgingly brush it off and the heated sexy time turns into an angry heated sexy time instead. (The littlest of changes, tbh.)

× Next time he decides to rip off your clothes and just go at it, you shove him those green bills before he even gets a chance to process your demand.

× Because if he had the audacity to proclaim he's THAT good, he better deliver, right?? So you pay up, fair and square, yet still thinking it's another mocking scam of his.

× ...

× It's- it's not. It's so not.

× Toji's tongue does wonders. That's it. Mic drop.

× You'll be broke by the end of the month if you won't come up with a way to convince him to lower the price.

× And him? He'd kinda do it for free at this point, tbh; he likes to taste you, but he won't come clean just yet. (No pun intended.)

× He'll tease the shit out of you. Before, in the process, and after the deed was done.

× But once you manage to find a compromise...

× Let's just say, 69 is your new favorite position to be in.

× SUKUNA RYOMEN × NANAMI KENTO ×

just wondering if you’d think yuuta would be jealous of the first years getting too comfy with s/o like maybe one time s/o called out “yuu” both yuuji & yuuta respond & they’re like 👁👄👁

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 | 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐓𝐀.

you’re sweet, it’s yuuta’s favorite thing about you—a little too sweet at times, but it’s lovable all the same. and yuuta has grown some, he’s not as much of the timid young boy as he used to be. fighting curses and seeing the things he has and training as vigorously as he does is enough to toughen anyone up, and he’s no exception. but still, he’s always remained your kind, sweet, sensitive little yuuta deep down.

and then there’s yuji. yuji is too perfect for his own good. he’s too easy to befriend, too easy to trust, too easy to grow fond of, and too easy to love.

he’s kind, sweet, sensitive, and magnetic. now that’s a deadly combination if he’s ever seen one, and if the way your eyes brighten when you see yuji is anything to base it off of, yuuta would say you think so too.

“yuu,” you call out, a small grin on your face as you approach yuuta and the pink-haired boy beside him, and when both of their heads snap to your direction, yuuta can’t help but feel his stomach churn. “oh,” you pause, blinking for a moment before giggling, “i meant him,” you point to yuuta.

he’s a tad bit relieved that it’s him you’re looking for, or he thinks the churning in his stomach would be infinitely worse. but then yuji smiles bashfully, looks down and lets out a nervous chuckle as he blushes, and then yuuta’s fists clench just a little.

yuji seems rather fond of you, fond enough that it makes yuuta’s heart plummet—and truth be told, it also makes his blood boil just a little.

“oops,” his younger classmate huffs out a soft laugh, “guess i got ahead of myself there,” he murmurs.

“aww, yuji,” you tease, and much to yuuta’s horror, you’re reaching over to pinch itadori’s cheek, and he’s left to wonder—when had you gotten so comfortable that causal touches were a part of the norm? “if you want a nickname you can just say so.”

“that’s not what i meant,” itadori mumbles shyly. “i just…you know…yuji? yuu? i thought it was for me for a second there.”

“it was for yuuta. for me,” yuuta cuts in, and he has to dig his nails into his palm as he clenches his fists, watching you smile gently to itadori. it’s okay, your expression reads, almost like you’re reassuring the boy—but it’s not okay.

your yuu is him—yuuta. not yuji. you’re here for him, to see him, to smile at him and grab his hand and tug him along as he follows. but you’re staring at itadori fondly, and it’s starting to hurt just a little.

“well we can’t both be yuu,” itadori laughs good-naturedly, and if he wasn’t such a gentle soul, yuuta wonders if he’d hate the boy. but there’s no hating itadori yuji—he’s much too good deep in his soul to be hated. “i’ll leave you two alone then,” he hums, patting your head with a happy smile before he’s off.

the touch isn’t even to him, but yuuta feels his skin burn, prickling at every inch as his heart drops.

you turn to him, beaming as your arms nestle their way around his neck, and even if not enough, there’s still some comfort in the action.

“hi baby,” you murmur, pressing a soft peck to his jaw, “i was looking for you.”

and this is silly—this is small, and not that big of a deal, and not even your fault, but yuuta can’t help the doubts that slowly plague his mind. he can’t fight the voices that hunch over his back and whisper into his ear, drowning out the sound of your voice before you can make it all better.

“me?” he asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that almost says he doesn’t believe you. your brows furrow just a little, your hand sliding to cup his cheek and tilt his face to look at you better.

“yes you, silly,” you huff out a small laugh, “who else?”

yuuta wants to mutter that evidently, it could seem like a certain someone, but he doesn’t have the heart to ever be grouchy with you. so he swallows his insecurities, tries to bury them in the deepest of crevices in his mind so they won’t be dug up again—but it’s like he’s digging into concrete, and the ground is too tough, just won’t break to let him shove his feelings down.

“no one,” he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.

and if you decided one day that itadori yuji was the boy of your dreams, that he was the one who could paint your skies and hang the stars just how you’d like them, yuuta doesn’t think he’d be surprised. if itadori is a swirl of vivid shades, colors that could brighten your world and bring you to life—yuuta thinks he pales in comparison, dim hues muddled together that could never show you the world through scenery as breathtaking.

but then your thumb trails over his cheek, tracing the soft curve of his face before hooking under his chin and pulling his face a little closer. he settles for looking at your lips, not yet ready to meet your gaze.

“what’s wrong, baby? what’s got you so down, hmm?” your voice is concerned, a soft breath that rolls off your tongue and soothes over the aches, placating them so easily—but he’s left to wonder: how long?

how long can you keep up the facade that he’s enough for you to happily crave more and more of? how long can you keep looking him in the eyes and getting lost in their depths? how long before enough is simply not enough any longer?

he doesn’t voice his concerns. “nothing,” he shrugs instead. “what are you—”

“don’t say nothing,” you sigh quietly, and by now, your hand has wandered past his shoulder to bury into his hair, scratching at his scalp gently as you twirl the strands of dark locks around your fingers. “it can’t be nothing, you know. no one knows you better than me,” you say with a sense of pride in your voice.

there’s a small bit of hope in that—a small part of him that revels in the victory of knowing you’re prideful that you see past him and catch glimpses no one else can. so he lets himself be vulnerable with you—because even with his doubts, he’s still you’re kind, sweet, sensitive little yuuta.

“just…didn’t know you and itadori knew each other so well,” he finally mumbles. it’s silent for a moment, and yuuta starts to accept that maybe you’re going to say what he knows is inevitably coming after all.

anyone would love to know itadori yuji like that—why should you be an exception?

yuuta wishes it was before he fell so hopelessly for you, wishes it was before the sound of your laugh was a melody he knew by heart—it’d hurt less, it wouldn’t make his lip wobble the way it’s wobbling right now.

“oh, baby,” you chuckle, cupping his face with both your hands, squeezing them together as you pull his forehead to yours, “you don’t have to be jealous. he’s just yuji.”

you offer him a sweet smile and eyes full of light, and he offers you a teary-eyed tilt of his head in confusion.

“but—”

“but you’re yuuta. you’re my yuu,” you whisper against his mouth, breath fanning over his skin before you press a delicate peck onto his lips. it’s short, a little too quick for his liking, but it makes him shiver nonetheless. “and i love you, my pretty boy.”

one more peck to his lip, then two, and then you’re kissing him deeply, grabbing his hands and guiding them to your hips before your arms wrap around his neck once more. he pulls you closer on instinct, and even if yuuta sees himself a muddle of colors, he feels bright hues seep through your lips and color him new—and it’s enough.

he thinks it’s enough, even if just for now.

“you were looking for me?” he asks breathlessly one more time as he pulls away, just to be sure. you watch as his eyes lighten a shade as you nod, smiling when his arms wrap impossibly tighter around you.

“of course, i was,” you press a kiss to his jaw, “who else?”

your honor he is my sugarplum baby boy

YES I NEED THIS KIND OF ANGST UGH UGLY CRYING NOW

pretending as always — ryomen sukuna.

"Sukuna." you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Do you ever think about us? About how things used to be?" He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if the answer was written somewhere in the shadows. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost resigned. "Things change. People change." "I know, I know." you replied, your fingers tracing the outline of his hand resting on your waist. "But I miss it. I miss us. The way we were before… everything."

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: angst, toxic romance, hurt/no comfort, cheating, unhappy marriage, crying, hurt, sadness, pain, character death, grief, unhappy ending, depictions of broken marriage, depiction of grief, depiction of cheating, depiction of death, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of misery, mention of loneliness, cheating husband! sukuna, long suffering wife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 10k words

NOTE: the thought bubble says 'things change, people change.'; the playlist for this chapter alone was just so angsty. like from i'm not the only one to glimpse of us, i really went through it writing this. i decided to write only one sad fic because i feel like putting out casual, together and thirty nine almost at the same time was just really criminal of me to do. so i hope you enjoy this, though!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 900;

if you want to, tip! <3

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

ANOTHER HUFF RELEASES FROM YOUR MOUTH. You don’t remember how many you’ve smoked today. But you were sure that it was beyond one pack. This was the only time you could be alone, to think for yourself. To have control. The control you’ve been craving for years and years, one that you will never truly have again. You didn’t need someone to see you out here, to tell you no, to worry about your health. You didn’t need that. Not right now. You needed to be alone. You needed silence. 

You sat on the balcony of your lavish penthouse, gazing out at the shimmering lights of Tokyo. The city was alive, vibrant, a testament to the empire your husband, Ryomen Sukuna, had built. He was the man behind the biggest conglomerate in Japan—a titan in the world of business, feared and respected in equal measure. And you were his wife. 

Once upon a time, you had been someone too. A doctor with a promising career, surrounded by friends, fulfilled by the life you had created with your own hands. Your days were spent saving lives, making a difference, and your nights were filled with laughter and tenderness with colleagues who had become family. You were driven, passionate, and proud of the work you did. But now, as you sat in the lap of luxury, the woman you once were seemed like a distant memory.

Now, you were just his wife. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t love him—you did. You loved him more than words could express. Sukuna was everything to you, and being his wife brought a kind of happiness you hadn’t known was possible. Yet, there was a gnawing emptiness, a void that had grown over the years. As much as you loved him, as much as he adored you in his own way, you knew the truth.

Ryomen Sukuna was not a man who could be kept down, not even for you. He was a force of nature, unstoppable, always striving for more, always looking beyond what he already had. His ambition was a double-edged sword, driving him to unimaginable heights but also pushing him further away from the simple life you sometimes yearned for. 

There were nights when he didn’t come home, when he was out sealing deals or attending extravagant parties where you were merely an accessory. You’d watch him from a distance, surrounded by admirers, his presence commanding attention wherever he went. He thrived in that world of power and influence, and you knew that no matter how much he loved you, that world would always be his first love.

You tried to be content with the life you had with him. After all, you had everything most people could only dream of—wealth, status, and the affections of a man who could have had anyone but chose you. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had lost yourself in the process. You weren’t the doctor anymore, the woman with her own dreams and aspirations. You were simply Mrs. Ryomen Sukuna, a title that came with its own set of expectations and sacrifices.

As the night grew darker, you wondered what it would take to feel like yourself again. Could you ever reclaim the life you had before Sukuna, or had you given up too much to ever go back? And if you did, would you lose him in the process? It was a question that haunted you, even as you curled up in the luxurious sheets of your bed, waiting for him to return home. You loved him. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough.

Your husband was a man to love—eccentric and electric, a living embodiment of wonder wrapped in the form of a man. His presence was magnetic, a force that drew people in, leaving them captivated by his every word, his every move. Ryomen Sukuna was a personality larger than life, his energy palpable, his enigma undeniable. He filled every room he entered, his laughter loud and contagious, a stark contrast to his own brother, Jin, who was quiet, composed, and unassuming.

Where Jin blended into the background, Sukuna demanded attention. Everyone who met him felt the spark, the electricity that seemed to radiate from him. He was unpredictable, always a step ahead, always thinking of the next big thing. His mind worked in ways that left others in awe, trying to keep up with the whirlwind that was his thoughts and ideas. Loving him was like holding onto a storm—thrilling, dangerous, and consuming.

But for all his vibrance and charm, Sukuna was still a man of cold realities. His work came first, always. No matter how much you wanted to be his priority, the empire he built was what he poured most of his energy into. He was often distant, consumed by the responsibilities that came with being the man at the top. Days would pass where you barely saw him, where his presence in your life felt more like a memory than a reality.

Yet, when he did give you his time, it was genuine and honest. Those rare moments were when you saw the man beneath the mask, the one who cared for you in his own complicated way. His touch was real, his words sincere, and in those fleeting minutes, you felt the depth of his love, even if it was buried under layers of ambition and duty.

There were nights, though, when he would come to bed, slipping under the covers beside you, and in those moments, he was truly yours. Those were the times you held onto, the nights where the world outside his office door ceased to exist, where the only thing that mattered was the feel of his warmth next to you.

His arm around your waist, his breath on your neck—these were the small, intimate moments that made the loneliness bearable. In the quiet of the night, Sukuna would pull you close, and for those few hours, he was just a man who loved his wife, not the untouchable titan he had become during the day.

But as the dawn approached, you knew he would slip away again, back into the world that demanded so much of him. Those nights were a bittersweet reminder that while he was yours, you would never fully have him. Still, you cherished them, holding onto the hope that maybe one day, the man who captivated the world would find his way back to you, not just in the shadows of the night, but in the light of day as well.

If you tried slyly, you could sometimes extract details about his life—small, fragmented pieces of the puzzle that was Ryomen Sukuna. A hint here, a passing comment there. But even after so many years of marriage, he wouldn’t budge.

He was a vault, his thoughts locked away in a place you couldn’t reach, no matter how hard you tried. There were times you sat across from him, watching his expressions, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was going on behind those sharp eyes, but he was impenetrable. You didn’t know what he was thinking half the time. 

And as the years passed, you began to realize a painful truth: you didn’t know this man anymore. He wasn’t the man you fell in love with, the one who had promised you the world with that charming smile and infectious energy. That man was a memory, fading with every passing day. The man you were married to now was a stranger, someone who wore Sukuna’s face but carried a weight and distance that hadn’t been there before. He was no longer wholly yours, not anymore.

But when he was—on those rare occasions when he let you in, when the walls came down just enough for you to feel the warmth beneath his cold exterior—those moments were everything. His exterior remained hard, a shield against the world and perhaps even against you, but in the quiet darkness of your bedroom, he softened.

The bed you shared became a pure and sacred shrine, a place where the outside world couldn’t reach, where only you and he existed. In that space, the burdens he carried were set aside, and for a fleeting moment, he was just a man, your husband, the one who still held pieces of your heart.

The warmth of his body against yours, the way he would pull you close as if you were his anchor—these were the moments that reminded you of the love that still lingered between you. It was as if, in that bed, time stood still, and the distance that had grown between you disappeared, leaving only the two of you, as you once were.

And though those moments were few and far between, they were enough to keep you holding on, hoping that perhaps, one day, the man you fell in love with would return to you, not just in the night, but in every aspect of your life together.

You lay beside him in the dark, feeling the weight of the silence between you. His arm was draped over your waist, his grip firm but gentle. It was one of those rare nights when he was fully present, when the business world he ruled seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you. You turned slightly, your face inches from his, searching his eyes for something—anything—that might bridge the gap that had grown between you.

"Sukuna." you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Do you ever think about us? About how things used to be?"

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if the answer was written somewhere in the shadows. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost resigned. "Things change. People change."

"I know, I know." you replied, your fingers tracing the outline of his hand resting on your waist. "But I miss it. I miss us. The way we were before… everything."

His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker there—regret, maybe, or a trace of the man you once knew. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that familiar unreadable expression.

"I’m still here. I always have been." he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "I never left. And you know that."

"Physically, yes, I know. But I just….It’s just." you murmured, a hint of bitterness creeping into your voice. "Sukuna, it’s like I don’t know you anymore. You’re not the man I married. You’re not the man who promised me the world. And I don’t know where he is. And I want him back.”

He didn’t flinch, but you felt the slight tension in his arm as he pulled you a little closer. "The world isn’t what it used to be. It won’t ever be what it was, you know that." he replied quietly. "And neither am I. And you know that too. But I’m still here. I’m still your husband.”

You sighed, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "But when you’re here, like this… it’s different. For just a moment, it feels like nothing’s changed. Like it’s just you and me, the way it used to be. I wish we could stay here, like this, forever."

He didn’t respond right away, but you felt his grip on you tighten, his thumb brushing softly against your skin as if to reassure you. "This bed, our bed…." he said slowly, his voice rougher than usual, "it’s our sanctuary. It’s the one place I can forget about everything else. But you know I can’t stay here forever. Not when the world calls me, not when it needs me.”

"I know that." you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. You needed him too. You needed your husband. And he will never see it. Not even when he tries. "But I can’t help wishing you would. That maybe, just once, you’d choose me over everything else. Like you used to.”

He was silent for a long moment, his breath warm against your hair. When he finally spoke, there was a softness in his voice that you rarely heard. "If I could, I would. You’re the only thing that keeps me grounded, that reminds me I’m still human. But I can’t give you all of me. Not anymore. I have things to do too.”

You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall silently. "I just wish… I wish you’d let me in, Sukuna. I want to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. I want to know the man I’m sharing this bed with."

He didn’t answer right away, and you knew he wouldn’t. Instead, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a rare, tender gesture. "I’m here now, you know?" he whispered. "Let’s just… stay in this moment, just for tonight."

You nodded, unable to find the words to say anything more. You clung to him, holding onto the warmth of his body, the rare softness of his embrace, knowing that when morning came, he would be gone again—pulled back into the world that demanded so much of him. But for now, you had this, and it would have to be enough.

It sounds more romantic than it actually is in reality. What you shared with Sukuna was far from the idyllic love story others might imagine. It was a volatile existence, a solitary one. A lonely existence. There were no whispered secrets in the dark, no playful banter or stolen glances across the room. There were no soft gazes filled with unspoken affection, no tender moments that lingered long after they ended. With Sukuna, you got the raw, unfiltered version of him—a man stripped of any pretense or facade.

Sukuna was not a man of many words, and that held true even during the most intimate moments between you. He was silent, his focus intense, his mind seemingly elsewhere even as he was with you. There were no sweet nothings exchanged, no promises of forever whispered into your ear. He was a man of action, not words, and even less so when you were in bed together.

Yet, despite the lack of verbal communication, there was one thing he always maintained—eye contact. His gaze never wavered, never strayed from yours, and in those moments, you saw something in his eyes that you rarely saw anywhere else. His eyes were earnest, and that sincerity was the closest thing to vulnerability he ever allowed himself to show. It was as if, in those brief moments of connection, he was telling you without words what he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud.

But even that small comfort was fleeting, a temporary solace in a relationship that often felt more like a battle than a partnership. You loved him, but it was a love laced with pain and longing, a love that left you feeling more alone than ever. Because while his eyes might have been honest, they also held a distance that you couldn’t bridge, a reminder that even in his most vulnerable moments, Sukuna was still just out of reach.

So you took what you could get—the warmth of his body against yours, the rare tenderness in his gaze—and tried to ignore the aching loneliness that gnawed at you in the silence that followed. Because at the end of the day, you knew that this was the only version of Sukuna you would ever truly have. And for better or worse, you had to make peace with that.

You lay there in the quiet aftermath, your body still humming from the intensity of it all. But as the warmth began to fade, reality seeped back in. The silence between you was heavy, filled with all the things left unsaid. There was no gentle touch, no soft embrace to pull you closer. Sukuna remained beside you, but there was a distance, an unspoken barrier that kept you apart even when you were lying inches away from each other.

This was your life—a series of fleeting connections punctuated by long stretches of solitude. You had learned to navigate this existence, to find comfort in the small moments, even if they were far from the grand romance you had once imagined. But it was a lonely existence, one that often left you feeling hollow, as if a piece of you had been carved out and left behind somewhere along the way.

There was no pillow talk with Sukuna, no lingering in the soft afterglow. Not like it used to be, when you greeted the morning light talking and talking. The man beside you was not one for such things. He was not the type to reach out and hold you close, to whisper sweet reassurances that everything would be okay. He simply wasn’t built that way, and you had long since stopped expecting him to be.

Instead, there was just the raw version of him—the man who was silent in his love, who showed it in ways that were hard to decipher, in ways that often left you questioning if it was there at all. His love wasn’t gentle or easy; it was fierce, consuming, and at times, almost indifferent. But it was there, hidden beneath layers of responsibility, power, and the iron will that had made him who he was.

Sukuna’s eyes were the only place where you could see that truth, where you could catch a glimpse of the man beneath the exterior. Even during sex, when his body was moving against yours with a deliberate intensity, his eyes stayed locked on yours, never wavering.

There was something disarming in that gaze, something that spoke of an honesty he couldn’t express any other way. It was in those moments, brief as they were, that you felt a connection, a thread of intimacy that tied you to him, even if it was fragile and frayed.

But as much as you clung to those moments, they were never enough to fill the void. The bed, which had once felt like a sanctuary, now seemed more like a cold, empty place where two strangers shared space but not lives. You would turn to face him, hoping for something—a word, a touch, anything to bridge the gap—but he remained still, his mind already miles away, lost in thoughts you could never reach.

And so you would close your eyes, trying to hold onto the fleeting warmth of his body next to yours, trying to convince yourself that this was enough, that you could live with the silence, the loneliness, the distance. Because at the end of the day, he was still the man you loved, the man who had once promised you the world.

But that promise had faded, just like the warmth that now ebbed away in the cold, empty silence of the room. And as much as it hurt, you knew that this was all there would ever be—a man you could never fully have, a love that was always just out of reach, and a life lived in the spaces between what was and what could have been.

You cry a lot about how life has let you suffer this way. The tears come in waves, usually in the quiet hours of the night when the weight of it all feels too heavy to bear. You cry for the life you thought you would have, for the love that feels like it's slipping through your fingers, for the man who promised you everything but gave you only fragments. The pain of it all has become a constant companion, a dull ache that lingers even in your happiest moments, because you know, deep down, that things will never be what you once dreamed they could be.

You knew about the women. You’ve always known. The whispers that reached your ears, the subtle changes in his demeanor, the way he would smell of a perfume that wasn’t yours. You knew about the women he took to hotels, the ones he wined and dined in the finest restaurants, the ones he spoiled with gifts and attention that you used to believe were reserved for you alone. You knew about the strip clubs, the fleeting kisses at bars, the meaningless trysts that filled the void you couldn’t seem to reach.

But knowing and seeing were two different things.

The image before you feels like a knife to the gut, twisting with a cruel precision. She’s beautiful, laughing at something Sukuna has whispered into her ear. They’re sitting too close, his hand resting on her thigh as though it belongs there.

His expression is relaxed, the mask he wears with you completely gone. This is who he really is, you think to yourself. You could feel this bitter realization curling in your chest. You feel like you were going to be sick.

For a moment, your legs threaten to give way beneath you. The restaurant is dimly lit, the low hum of conversation and clinking silverware suddenly drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears. You’ve been here before. It’s one of his favorites—one you thought was yours too, where he used to look at you with that same easy smile.

Your heart hammers against your ribs, urging you to flee, to turn away before the pain can deepen. You take a step back, and then another, the darkness of the entrance swallowing you whole as you move further from the scene. It’s as if you’re in a dream, your body moving on autopilot, one step after another, until you’re out on the street, the cool night air hitting your skin like a jolt.

You keep walking, eyes unfocused, the city lights blurring into a haze of colors. The truth is, you don’t know where you’re going. All you know is that you can’t stop moving. Because if you stop, if you allow yourself to think, to feel, the walls you’ve built around your heart will collapse, and you’ll be left with nothing but the agony of what you’ve lost. Or perhaps, of what you never truly had.

You knew everything. And yet, you pretended as always, especially when he came home. Because he always did. No matter how many nights he spent in the arms of someone else, no matter how many times he broke your heart with his affairs, he always came home to you. And you clung to that, as painful as it was, because it was the one thing you had left—the knowledge that, for whatever reason, he chose to come back to you.

You knew everything. And yet, you pretended as always, especially when he came home. Because he always did. No matter how many nights he spent in the arms of someone else, no matter how many times he broke your heart with his affairs, he always came home to you.

And you pathetically clung to that, as painful as it was, because it was the one thing you had left—the knowledge that, for whatever reason, he chose to come back to you. That he'll always choose to come back to you. And only you.

The sound of his key turning in the lock was your cue to slip the mask into place, smoothing out the cracks in your facade. You could hear the soft rustle of his coat as he shrugged it off, the faint smell of that foreign perfume clinging to the air. It was like a slap in the face, but you swallowed the bitterness down, forcing yourself to stay calm.

“Hey.” he called out, his voice casual, as though nothing were amiss. As though he hadn’t just spent hours with someone else.

“Hey.” you replied, keeping your tone light, as if you hadn’t been waiting in silence, wondering who he was with, what she looked like, if she made him laugh the way you used to.

He stepped into the room, his gaze brushing over you, taking in the sight of you curled up on the couch with a book in your hands. It was a scene of domestic tranquility, one you’d perfected over the years. You’d become a master at hiding the turmoil beneath the surface, at pretending that everything was fine.

“How was your night?” you asked, the words slipping out easily, as if they weren’t laced with the weight of unspoken truths.

“Busy.” he replied, moving toward you. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him, to savor the warmth of his presence. This was the part you held onto—the part where he came home, where he chose you, if only for a few fleeting hours. “Did a lot of meetings. It was dull. Like always.”

But even as he pulled away and headed to the bedroom, you couldn’t help but feel the coldness seep back in, the emptiness that settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew he’d be gone again tomorrow, off to chase whatever thrill he found in the arms of someone else. 

Still, you clung to that tiny thread of hope, the one that told you he would return. Because as long as he came home, as long as he kept choosing you, there was a part of you that could pretend—pretend that it was enough, that you were enough. You knew that you were tearing yourself apart. Apart from this man. But you were stuck. You didn’t know how to get out. Not when you can’t bear separation.

It was a cruel cycle, one that left you feeling shattered and hollow, but one you couldn’t break free from. You pretended because it was easier than confronting the truth, easier than acknowledging that the man you loved was also the man who was tearing you apart. You pretended because you wanted to believe that, despite everything, there was still something left between you, something worth holding on to.

Because as much as he hurt you, as much as he used other women to fill whatever void he was running from, you knew one thing with absolute certainty: he loved you. He might have been distant, cold, and unfaithful, but that love was there, buried beneath the layers of deceit and betrayal. It was a twisted, painful love, one that hurt more than it healed, but it was real. And that’s what made it so hard to walk away.

He loved you, and it hurt you. It hurt because that love wasn’t enough to stop him from seeking out others, from indulging in pleasures that had nothing to do with you. It hurt because that love didn’t protect you from the heartache, didn’t shield you from the loneliness that came from sharing a bed with someone who was only half there.

But it was love nonetheless, a sick, unadulterated, gut-wrenching love you can never truly escape even if you wanted to. and you clung to it with everything you had, because without it, you weren’t sure who you would be anymore.

So you cried, and you pretended, and you waited for him to finish his shower, knowing that when he did, you would smile, you would act as if nothing was wrong, as if your heart wasn’t breaking a little more each day. Because you loved him, too, and that love was the only thing holding you together, even as it threatened to tear you apart.

The stairs creaked with every step, and you quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You knew the routine by now—how to mask the pain, how to put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the steps, and you braced yourself, slipping into the role you had perfected over the years. He’d gotten out of the shower and dressed.

Sukuna walked back into the living room, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud. He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable as he walked in front of you. You could still smell the faint scent of a perfume that wasn’t yours, the remnants of a night you knew all too well. It was as if he was mocking you. It was as if he wanted you to know.  But you didn’t say anything. You never did.

“Did you have dinner yet?” you ask him, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. “There’s still some soba I made for dinner.”

He hums in response, reaching for your hand, his touch warm but somehow distant. “Maybe later, I’ll heat it up myself. Let me stay here with you for a bit.”

You nod, pretending to be satisfied with his answer, even though you know it’s a lie. “Okay, that’s fine.”

You make some space for him to sit beside you, but instead, he lowers his head onto your lap, his body stretching out along the couch. The gesture is familiar, almost comforting, but tonight, it feels like a weight pressing down on your chest. You feel the bile rise in your throat as he closes his eyes, humming softly to himself, as if this moment is as peaceful for him as it is tormenting for you.

You force your fingers to move, to edge along the tips of his fuchsia-colored hair, the strands soft beneath your touch. The motion is automatic, a habit born from nights like these, where you pretended that everything was still okay. But as you purse your lips into a tight line, trying to keep your composure, you feel the tears threatening to spill over, the pain clawing at the walls you’ve built around your heart.

Not now, you tell yourself. Not now. You can’t break, not here, not while he’s with you.

You swallow hard, pushing down the surge of emotions that threaten to rise to the surface, and speak in a voice you barely recognize as your own. “You worked hard.”

He opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours in the dim light of the room. “So did you.” he whispers, his tone soft, almost tender.

His words, if they were meant to comfort you, only deepen the ache inside you. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, forcing a small, hollow smile as you continue to stroke his hair. Because that’s all you can do—pretend that this moment is enough, that his presence here is enough to make up for all the nights he’s been away, all the lies you’ve told yourself just to keep going.

He closes his eyes again, sighing softly, and you watch him, your fingers never faltering in their gentle rhythm. And as you sit there, with his head in your lap and the soba cooling on the kitchen counter, you realize that this is what you’ve become—someone who is willing to live in the spaces he leaves behind, someone who clings to the small moments he offers, even when they’re built on a foundation of lies.

“I missed you, Sukuna.” you whispered, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

“I know.” he replied to you, in a tone that knows. A tone that reveals it all. He knew that you know, you weren’t a fool. You were too smart for it. And yet, here you are. With him, his lying, selfish self, loved by you. “I’m here now.”

You nodded, knowing that was the most you would get from him. “I’m glad you’re home.”

He didn’t respond, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly easing, his breathing becoming more relaxed. You knew this was as close as he would come to letting you in, and you tried to take comfort in it, even though it wasn’t enough.

You lay there in silence, your hand still resting on his chest, listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing. You wanted to say more, to tell him how much it hurt, how much you wished things could be different. But you knew it wouldn’t change anything. He would always come home, but he would never truly be yours.

So you stayed quiet, pretending for him, for yourself, for the fragile love that still tied you to him, even as it slowly unraveled. You pretended that this was enough, that the fleeting moments of closeness were worth the nights spent alone, the tears shed in silence, the knowledge that he would never be wholly yours.

And in the dark, as you lay beside him, you let yourself believe the lie, if only for a little while. Because sometimes, pretending was the only thing that kept you going.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

EVERYTHING CHANGED WHEN YOU HEARD THOSE WORDS. The doctor's words echoed in your mind as you drove home, your knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel. "A few months, at most," he'd said, and you'd nodded, thanked him even, before walking out of the clinic in a daze. The sky outside seemed unchanged, the world continuing its indifferent spin, while inside you, something had irrevocably shifted.

When you finally made it home, you sat down, the weight of everything settling onto your shoulders like a heavy blanket. The familiar surroundings seemed distant, like you were seeing them through a fog. The elegant decor, the soft lighting—everything was perfect, just as it always was, but it felt like a set piece now, like something you were watching from afar.

You tried to think of what you should do next, what anyone would do with such news. Should you cry? Scream? But nothing came. Instead, a strange sense of calm washed over you, like the stillness after a storm. Maybe this was it—God's way of freeing you from this misery, this life you’d never truly lived.

A miserable existence, that’s what it was. A life spent in the shadow of Ryomen Sukuna, the man who was everything to everyone, and nothing to you. The man who had captured your heart and soul, only to lock them away somewhere deep inside, where they withered, starved of the love you so desperately needed. You’d given everything to be his wife, to play the part in the perfect narrative he’d constructed, and in the process, you’d lost yourself.

The relief that bubbled up inside you was unexpected, but undeniable. You wouldn’t have to suffer much longer. No more pretending, no more aching for a love that would never be yours. No more nights spent staring at the ceiling, wondering why you weren’t enough. Soon, it would all be over. You wouldn’t have to endure this life, this love, for much longer.

You decided then and there—you wouldn’t tell him. What would be the point? He was a man consumed by his empire, by his power, and you were just another piece of his world, another part of his success. Telling him would only disrupt the perfect narrative he had written for himself, and you couldn’t bear to see the indifference in his eyes when he realized that your story was ending.

No, you would continue to be his wife. You would play your part until the very end, letting yourself fade quietly from the narrative, just as you had faded from his heart. And maybe, when it was all over, when you were gone, he might feel something—a twinge of regret, perhaps. But that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

In the stillness of your home, a peculiar sense of peace enveloped you. The silence was heavy, but it was a silence of your own making, one that spoke of an end and a release. You had loved Sukuna with a depth that was both profound and consuming. Your love for him was a force that had shaped your days and your nights, driving you to care for him in ways that went unnoticed and unappreciated. 

But as you faced the reality of your impending departure, a bittersweet calm settled over you. The weight of your unrequited love, the fatigue of constantly giving without receiving, was finally lifting. You had poured your heart into a relationship where your love was met with indifference and infidelity. You had tried to make him see, tried to make him understand, but in the end, the love you gave was never truly reciprocated in the way you had hoped.

Now, as the days dwindle and the finality of your situation becomes undeniable, you found a strange comfort in knowing that the end was near. The thought of liberation from a love that had only ever been one-sided was both heart-wrenching and soothing. You were tired of the endless cycle of giving and waiting, of hoping for something that would never come. And in the quiet of your home, you felt a sense of relief at the prospect of being free from this endless cycle of emotional exhaustion.

That night, when Sukuna returned home, you greeted him with a facade of normalcy. Despite the heavy burden of your knowledge, you smiled at him with a warmth that belied your inner turmoil. You continued to dote on him, serving him his favorite dishes with the same loving care you always had. Every gesture, every touch, every look was a continuation of the role you had played for so long.

You carried on as if nothing had changed, maintaining the pretense of a happy, loving wife. Your actions were deliberate, a final testament to the depth of your love and the extent of your sacrifice. You wanted to give him one last glimpse of the love he had taken for granted, to remind him of what he would be losing, even if he would never fully grasp it until it was too late.

You went through the motions of daily life, engaging with him, listening to his stories, laughing at his jokes. The facade was not just for him, but for yourself as well—a way to preserve a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos of your emotions. You wanted to leave him with the memory of a wife who had loved him deeply, who had cared for him until the very end, despite everything.

In the quiet moments alone, after he had gone to bed, you would sit in the darkness, feeling the weight of your impending departure. You would reflect on the years you had spent loving him, on the moments of joy and sorrow that had shaped your relationship. And as you faced the end, you found a strange sort of solace in knowing that you would finally be free from the constraints of a love that had never truly been mutual.

The peace you felt was not without pain, but it was a relief nonetheless. You had loved Sukuna with all that you were, and now, as you prepared to leave, you took comfort in the knowledge that you would soon be free from the sadness and longing that had defined your existence.

Sukuna looked up from his plate, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He could see a flicker of something in your eyes that he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“You seem... unusually happy tonight,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of both surprise and suspicion. “Is something going on?”

You met his gaze, a faint smile on your lips that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s been a long time since we had a dinner like this, just the two of us.”

Sukuna’s brow furrowed as he studied you. “Yeah, it has. We’ve been so wrapped up in our own worlds that it’s easy to forget what it was like before everything got so complicated.”

You nodded, your fingers nervously twisting the edge of your napkin. “I’ve missed this—being with you like this, without all the distractions and complications. It feels like a rare moment of normalcy in the chaos.”

Sukuna’s expression softened, but there was an edge of concern in his eyes. “You seem more at peace than usual. Is everything okay? You’ve been acting... different lately.”

You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “I’ve just been reflecting on things. It’s strange how time changes everything, how we lose sight of what really matters until it’s almost too late.”

Sukuna’s gaze grew more intense, his unease palpable. “Reflecting on what? You’ve been acting like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “It’s just... I’ve been thinking about how we’ve lost touch with each other. How we’ve let life get in the way of what really matters.”

Sukuna’s eyes searched for yours, trying to grasp the depth of your words. “Are you saying there’s something wrong? Something you’re not telling me?”

You looked away, your smile faltering. “It’s not about something wrong. It’s about realizing that sometimes, we need to appreciate the moments we have, even if they’re fleeting.”

Sukuna’s confusion deepened, his concern growing. “You’re scaring me. Why are you talking like this? What’s going on?”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, your heart aching with the weight of the truth you couldn’t reveal. “I’ve just been feeling... reflective. It’s hard to explain, but I’m grateful for these moments, even if they’re all we have left.”

Sukuna reached out, his hand gently grasping yours. “Are you trying to tell me something? You’re acting like this is a goodbye.”

You pulled your hand away, the pain in your chest almost unbearable. “It’s not a goodbye. It’s just... a realization. I want to make the most of the time we have, to cherish these moments together.”

Sukuna’s face fell, his worry evident. “You’re making it sound like something terrible is happening. If there’s something you’re hiding, you need to tell me.”

You shook your head, forcing yourself to smile through the tears that threatened to spill. “It’s not about hiding anything. It’s about acknowledging that even when things are difficult, we can still find moments of happiness. I wanted tonight to be one of those moments.”

Sukuna looked at you with a mixture of sadness and confusion, his frustration clear. “You’re not making any sense. Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

You stood up from the table, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze any longer. You smiled at him. And even at that moment, he noticed. He noticed it didn’t go up to your eyes. “I can’t. Not yet. I just needed you to understand that despite everything, I’ve always cherished our time together.”

Sukuna watched you with a heart heavy with concern and regret, as you walked away from the table. "Do you still want some wine?"

"No." Sukuna whispers under his breath. "I'm fine."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

YOU WERE GOOD AT PLAYING ROLES. Sukuna didn't suspect a thing. You continued playing your part, showing up at events, smiling when required, and being the perfect wife that the world expected you to be. He remained oblivious, too wrapped up in his own world to notice the subtle changes—the way your laughter had lost its warmth, the way your eyes seemed distant, even when you looked directly at him.

He carried on with his life, his empire growing ever larger, his influence spreading like wildfire. And on the side, there was her—the woman he met in secret, the one who made him feel alive in ways that you no longer could. He didn’t care to hide it anymore, not really. He knew you knew, but in his mind, it didn’t matter. You were his wife, his possession, and that was enough.

The restaurant was bathed in a warm, subdued light, its cozy ambiance a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Sukuna's heart. He sat across from his date, his smirk easy, a deliberate mask concealing the turbulent emotions beneath. His eyes roamed lazily over the flickering candlelight, his drink half-empty, the conversation flowing smoothly. It was supposed to be an escape, a fleeting distraction from the complexities of his life.

The phone buzzed on the table, its vibration slightly jarring against the relaxed hum of the evening. Sukuna glanced at it, a shadow of irritation crossing his features. He almost ignored it, but a nagging instinct—something primal and insistent—prompted him to check. The screen lit up with an urgent message, and as he read the words, his smirk faltered, replaced by a sudden, unsettling pallor.

His hand trembled slightly as he answered the call that followed.

“Mr. Sukuna, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your evening. There’s been an emergency. Your wife—she’s collapsed and has been rushed to the hospital. The situation is very serious. You need to come immediately.”

Sukuna’s mind reeled, struggling to process the gravity of the message. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, a cacophony of fear and disbelief.  “What? No, that can’t be right. Are you sure? What happened?” His usual bravado turned into worrisome, strained whispers. “My wife was healthy when I left her at home.”

“Yes, I’m certain. She was rushed in a couple of minutes ago. The doctors are doing everything they can, but it’s critical. Please come to the hospital right away.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving Sukuna staring blankly at his phone. The realization of what he had just heard began to sink in, each beat of his heart echoing with a growing dread. Without a word, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“Suku? What’s going on? Where are you going?” Her face is a mask of confusion and concern. “Suku–”

 “I—I have to go. It’s an emergency.” His voice barely more than a whisper, laden with panic.

He didn’t wait for any further questions or explanations. His mind was a chaotic whirl of thoughts as he left the restaurant, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm inside him. The drive to the hospital was a blur, the city lights streaking by in a disorienting haze. Every turn, every red light seemed to stretch time, amplifying his growing sense of dread.

Inside the emergency room, the atmosphere was clinical and cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of the evening he had just left behind. The cacophony of beeping monitors and hurried voices created a symphony of chaos that matched his inner turmoil. He pushed past the reception desk, barely acknowledging the questions they asked him. All he could think about was reaching you, seeing you, and holding onto whatever fragments of hope remained.

“Sir, you need to wait here. We’re in the middle of an emergency procedure.” The nurse said firmly, as Sukuna tried to approach.

Sukuna’s eyes fixed on the form lying still on the gurney, a sight that twisted his insides with a profound ache. The resuscitation efforts were intense, a desperate dance between life and death. He felt a profound sense of helplessness, the cold efficiency of the medical staff contrasting sharply with his own emotional chaos.

 “Please, I need to be with her. I have to—” His voice breaking, a raw plea. “Please let me through—”

“Sir, we need to focus on the procedure. You can’t be in the way.”

Sukuna was forced to retreat, his heart sinking as he slumped against the wall, his fists clenched in frustration and fear. The minutes dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity. He stared at the closed doors of the emergency room, the gnawing fear that he might lose you forever consuming him.

In the cold, stark hallway of the hospital, Sukuna felt his world unraveling. The veneer of control and dominance he had always relied on was gone, replaced by a gut-wrenching vulnerability he had never before experienced. He was left alone with his thoughts, confronting the painful truth that he had been given a chance to face his own failures and regrets.

Everything they could, they tried—but it wasn’t enough. He could see it in their eyes, in the frantic movements that were becoming more desperate by the second. He shouted at them, his voice rising to a roar, demanding they do something, anything. He wasn’t used to feeling powerless, wasn’t used to being afraid. But in that moment, as he watched you lying there, unmoving, unresponsive, fear gripped him in a way it never had before.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not now, not when he’d taken you for granted for so long. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. You had always been there, always been his, and he’d never truly appreciated it. And now, as he watched the life drain from you, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—genuine, bone-deep terror.

When the nurses finally stopped, when they turned to him with those solemn expressions, he knew. They didn’t have to say a word. He pushed past them anyway, falling to his knees beside your bed, his hand grasping yours, still warm but lifeless. You were slipping through his fingers. He didn’t want to free you — not yet. He needs you. He still wants you.

“Don’t do this, not yet.” he whispered, his voice breaking, something it never did. “You can’t leave me. You don’t get to leave me.”

But you were already gone. The silence in the room was deafening, and for the first time in his life, Ryomen Sukuna felt utterly and completely helpless. 

Sukuna stayed by your side long after the nurses and doctors left the room, long after the machines were turned off, and the sterile, mechanical sounds faded into an unbearable silence. He gripped your hand tightly, as if somehow, by sheer force of will, he could pull you back from the brink, undo what had just happened. But the truth was inescapable—you were gone.

The world outside continued to turn, indifferent to the agony that churned inside him. Sukuna, the man who had always been in control, who had never feared anything or anyone, was now paralyzed by a fear so intense it consumed him. He had never imagined a moment like this, a moment where he would lose something so irreplaceable.

Memories flashed through his mind—moments he had dismissed, overlooked, or taken for granted. The way you would smile at him when he came home, the quiet dinners you shared, the way you had always been there, even when he hadn’t deserved it. He had grown so used to your presence that he never considered what it would be like without you.

He had thought he could live his life as he pleased, that you would always be there, in the background, silently enduring whatever he put you through. But now, with you gone, the enormity of his loss hit him with full force. It wasn’t just that you were gone—it was that you were gone because of him. He had driven you to this, with his neglect, his infidelity, his arrogance.

His chest tightened, and for the first time in years, Sukuna felt the sting of tears. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried—if he ever had. But now, the tears came unbidden, a raw and overwhelming response to the pain that was tearing him apart. He had lost you, and it was his fault. There was no one else to blame, no way to undo what he had done.

He thought about all the things he would never get to say to you, all the apologies that would never leave his lips. He had always believed he had time—time to make things right, time to explain, time to finally show you that you mattered to him. But now, that time was gone, and with it, any chance of redemption.

Sukuna stayed there, holding your hand, until the nurses gently told him that he had to let go, that it was time to say goodbye. He didn’t want to—he wasn’t ready to. But he knew there was no choice. Slowly, reluctantly, he released your hand, feeling a cold emptiness settle into the space where you had once been.

As he walked out of the hospital, the reality of his life without you began to sink in. The thought of returning to his grand, empty house—one that had always been a symbol of his success, his power—now felt like walking into a tomb. You were no longer there to greet him, no longer there to fill the space with your presence.

And for the first time, Sukuna understood what it meant to be truly alone. All the wealth, the power, the women—none of it mattered anymore. The one thing that had truly mattered was gone, and he was left with nothing but the echo of his own regrets.

As he stepped into his car, the weight of your absence pressed down on him, suffocating in its intensity. He had never been afraid of anything before. But now, as he faced a future without you, he was terrified.

Sukuna sat in the driver’s seat of his car, the door still open as if he might somehow find the strength to run back into the hospital and reverse what had happened. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, and the first sob broke through his defenses, ragged and harsh. He slammed his fists against the wheel, the sound echoing in the empty garage, the pain in his chest mirroring the bruising force of his punches.

Each hit was a release, a desperate attempt to rid himself of the unbearable grief and regret that had settled over him like a heavy fog. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision, and he felt a profound sense of helplessness that he had never known. He had always been in control, always been the one to dictate terms, to manipulate situations to his favor. But now, as he sat there, he was powerless, unable to change anything, unable to bring you back.

In the midst of his torment, memories began to flood back—painful, vivid recollections that he had buried under layers of indifference and self-absorption. He remembered the way you would spend hours in the kitchen, cooking meals with a dedication that went beyond mere obligation. You had always taken care of him, preparing dishes that you knew he loved, ensuring the fridge was stocked with his favorite foods.

He could picture you now, in the kitchen of your shared home, chopping vegetables, stirring pots, your face focused and serene. The way you’d hum softly to yourself, the warmth of the kitchen contrasting with the coldness that seemed to have crept into his heart over the years. Every meal you made was a labor of love, a testament to the care and consideration you had for him, even when he had taken it all for granted.

And then there were the times you’d prepare extra food, stock the fridge with ready-made meals, knowing that his schedule was unpredictable, that he might be too busy to eat properly. You’d filled the refrigerator with care, making sure he would have something to sustain him, even when you couldn’t be there. 

He should have noticed the subtle changes in your routine. The house had been unusually pristine lately, the surfaces spotless, the floors immaculate. It wasn’t like you to maintain such a high level of cleanliness without a reason. It was as if you had been preparing the space, ensuring that everything was in perfect order, as if you were orchestrating a smooth transition for him, even after you were gone.

The closets were tidier than usual, the clothes organized and neatly hung. He realized now that you had cleaned out your own belongings with quiet efficiency, not because you were preparing to leave in the conventional sense, but because you wanted to spare him the burden. You had sorted through your things, reducing the mess he would have to deal with, thinking ahead so that your death wouldn’t leave him grappling with the physical remnants of your life.

The laundry was always done, the baskets emptied and folded with a care that went beyond routine. You had taken care of it all, ensuring that he wouldn’t be confronted with chores and tasks that might remind him of the void you were leaving behind. The house had been more than just clean—it had been meticulously arranged to make his life easier, to ensure that the practicalities of your absence wouldn’t add to his grief.

In the midst of his grief, the realization struck him with the force of a revelation. You had been planning for this moment all along, your every action a carefully orchestrated preparation for the inevitable. You had thought of everything—how the house should be, how his daily life should continue without disruption, how he might cope with the void you would leave behind.

And yet, despite all your foresight, he had been so absorbed in his own world, so blind to your quiet efforts, that he hadn’t seen what you were doing. He had been wrapped up in his own needs, his own desires, oblivious to the depth of your sacrifice.

Now, as he sat there in the car, the weight of his regret felt almost unbearable. You had given him a gift of love so profound, so selfless, and he had only realized it in the harshest of moments. He had been given a chance to appreciate you, to see how deeply you cared, but it had come too late.

The house was prepared, the chores managed, the meals cooked—all to make sure that your departure wouldn’t add to his burden. And all he could do now was mourn the loss of someone who had loved him so completely, while he had remained unaware of the full extent of their care.

The realization hit him with a crushing weight. You had been preparing him—preparing him for a future without you. You had known, on some level, that your time was limited, and you had tried to make things easier for him, to ensure he wouldn’t be left entirely lost when you were gone. You had left behind a legacy of care and love, even in your absence.

The tears flowed more freely now, each one a testament to the depth of his regret. The sight of the empty kitchen at home, the pristine rows of shelves, the meticulously arranged pantry—all these things that once seemed so ordinary now felt like a poignant reminder of the love he had squandered. You had been his rock, his constant, and he had never truly valued it until it was too late.

Sukuna’s sobs grew louder, more desperate, his grief palpable in the confined space of the car. He felt as if he were drowning in a sea of his own making, surrounded by the memories of what he had lost and the realization of how profoundly he had failed you. The realization of your love, the sacrifices you had made, and the undeniable truth that he had only seen it all now, when it was too late, was a torment unlike anything he had ever known.

He sank forward, resting his head on the steering wheel, letting the tears fall harder than before, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. He wished he could turn back time, could undo the mistakes he had made, could tell you how much you meant to him. But all he was left with was the crushing weight of his actions, the echoes of your love, and the empty space where you once were.

small problem

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ I think my condom slipped off in you.”

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

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

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

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

He was a doomed man.

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

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

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.

Our Special Day

( ♡ ) pairing : Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , Christian Orthodox wedding, idk bro

( ♡ ) a/n ✏️ : I just cried while thinking about this omg

The morning sunlight filtered through the large, stained-glass windows of the church, casting colorful beams across the intricately carved wooden pews. You stood before a mirror, heart pounding, adjusting the delicate veil atop your head. The heavy satin of your wedding dress shimmered in the light, and your reflection showed a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Outside, the sacred space of the Orthodox church waited for you. Candles flickered gently on tall golden holders, while the air carried a soft scent of incense, symbolizing purification and spiritual devotion. A choir softly sang hymns in the background, their voices harmonizing to create an ethereal atmosphere.

The grand doors of the church slowly opened as you took a deep breath, stepping inside on your father’s arm. All eyes turned toward you, but your gaze was locked on one person: Gojo Satoru. Standing tall in his ceremonial black suit and white tie, his usual cocky smirk was softened by an almost reverent expression. His white hair was neatly combed back, but his signature blindfold was gone, allowing his striking blue eyes to catch yours. His gaze held a depth of emotion you rarely saw from him —love, pride, and a flicker of mischief.

As you approached the altar, Gojo met you halfway, taking your hand in his, his touch warm and grounding. The priest, dressed in traditional Orthodox vestments, began the ceremony with a prayer in ancient tones, invoking blessings upon your union.

The crowning ceremony, a key part of Orthodox weddings, came next. A beautiful, ornate crown was placed gently on your head, and then one on Gojo’s. You could feel the weight of it, not just physically, but symbolically — the responsibility and sacredness of the bond you were forging. Gojo gave you a wink, as if to lighten the moment, but you could tell he was equally moved by the gravity of it.

As the priest led you both in a circle three times around the altar, symbolizing the eternal nature of marriage, Gojo squeezed your hand just a little tighter. You glanced up at him, and he mouthed, “You look stunning.” Despite the solemnity of the moment, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

Finally, after the sacred prayers, the priest invited you to exchange your vows. Gojo’s voice was low but clear, his usual playful demeanor tempered by sincerity.

“ I vow to stand by your side through every storm, every trial, and every moment of chaos. No matter what comes our way, I’ll face it with you. My love for you is boundless, stronger than any curse or darkness in this world. I promise to protect you, not just with my strength, but with all of my heart and soul, for as long as I draw breath. You are my light, and I will cherish you, forever. ”

Tears pricked your eyes. Your heart swelled as Gojo’s words wrapped around you, filled with love and devotion. With a deep breath, you spoke, your voice soft but steady.

“I have no doubt that life with you will be anything but ordinary, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. You’ve shown me what it means to feel safe and loved, even in the face of danger. I vow to be your strength when you need it, to stand beside you no matter how dark things may get. I will love you fiercely, with all that I am, for every moment of this life and whatever comes after. You are my home, and I will protect and cherish that, always.”

With a blessing, the priest signaled the conclusion of the ceremony, and Gojo leaned in to kiss you, his lips brushing yours with a tenderness that made your heart swell. The church erupted in applause, the joy of the moment washing over you both.

As you turned to walk down the aisle, now husband and wife, Gojo’s arm wrapped securely around your waist. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice teasing yet full of affection.

“Let’s see if you can handle being Mrs. Gojo. It won’t be easy.”

You laughed softly, your heart soaring. With him, you knew every day would be an adventure — but it was one you were ready to embrace. Together.