Sukuna had never begged for anything in his life. Not money. Not forgiveness. Not help. Not even when he was twenty and working three jobs while trying to raise a screaming toddler who kept drawing on the walls with permanent marker while Choso slammed doors and screamed that he hated him.
Sukuna handled shit himself. Always. That was why this felt so wrong.
Why it felt like his ribs were cracking open every second you stared at him without saying anything. The apartment was dead quiet except for the rain tapping against the windows. You wouldn’t look at him.
That hurt worse than the yelling did.
Honestly, he wished you’d screamed.
Instead you just stood there near the kitchen counter with your arms wrapped around yourself like if you loosened them for even a second you’d fall apart.
“You done?” you asked quietly.
Sukuna swallowed. His throat actually fucking hurt.
“No.”
Your laugh came out broken. Small. “What else is there to say?”
Everything. Too much. Not enough.
The problem was Sukuna had never learned how to explain himself without sounding angry. Even now, his jaw was tight enough to crack teeth apart. His huge frame stood frozen near the front door like he didn’t know if he was allowed any closer.
Because he probably wasn’t. The image kept replaying in his head. You're calling him over and over. Him ignoring every single fucking call like an idiot. The bar and Yorozu hanging all over him.
His arm around her waist because he was drunk and pissed and stupid and wanted to hurt you after the fight.
And then your face when you walked in.
Jesus Christ.
He’d seen people die before and somehow that look still haunted him worse.
“I said I was sorry,” he muttered hoarsely.
You finally looked at him then. Red eyes. Wet cheeks. “Sorry doesn’t erase it.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” your voice cracked. “Because I don’t think you get it, Sukuna.”
His stomach twisted violently hearing his name like that.
Not Ryo.
Not even Ryomen.
Just Sukuna. Cold and distant, as if you were referring to a stranger.
“You embarrassed me,” you whispered. “You humiliated me.”
His chest caved inward.“I know.”
“You made me feel stupid for loving you.”
That one physically made him flinch, actually flinch. You noticed too because your face crumpled for half a second before hardening again. Good. He deserved it.
Sukuna dragged a hand down his face hard enough to redden the skin. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“That’s the problem.”
Silence.
The constant drum of rain, the sound of your uneven breathing. He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t fucking breathe in it.
“You think I wanted her?” he snapped suddenly. “You think I looked at her like I look at you?”
“You had your hands all over her.”
“Because I was angry!”
“And that makes it better?!”
“No!” His voice thundered through the apartment before he caught himself. You stepped back instinctively, tbat nearly killed him. The second he noticed fear flash across your face he looked sick with himself.
“...fuck,” he whispered.
You wiped your eyes aggressively. “I think you should leave.”
“No.”
Your head jerked up. “No?” you repeated in disbelief.
“I’m not leaving till you hear me out.”
“There’s nothing to hear!”
“There is for me.” His voice cracked on the last word, actually cracked. You both froze. Sukuna looked almost startled by it himself, like his own desperation disgusted him. His fists clenched so hard his tattoos stretched over his knuckles.
“You think this is easy for me?” he asked quietly. “You think I know how to do this shit?”
“You should’ve thought about that before–”
“I know!” he barked.
Then softer, broken. “I know.”
God, he looked awful.
Not physically. Sukuna always looked intimidating no matter what. Six foot something of muscle and sharp edges and dark eyes.
But emotionally? He looked ruined. Hair messy from shoving his hands through it nonstop. Eyes bloodshot. Hoodie half soaked from the storm outside because apparently he hadn’t even bothered with an umbrella when he chased after you.
“You didn’t even come home,” you whispered.
His face twisted because that was the worst part. You’d waited for him, called him, texted him. And he’d ignored every single one because he’d been angry after your argument and wanted to “win.”
God, he hated himself.
“I know.”
“That whole night I thought maybe something happened to you.” Tears spilled faster now. “I was terrified.”
His breathing stuttered.
Then you laughed bitterly. “And then I walk in and see you with another girl.”
Sukuna looked like someone had punched him directly in the throat.
“She didn’t matter.”
“But I did,” you whispered. “And you still did it.”
That shut him up, because you were right. Completely right. The silence stretched so long it became unbearable.
Then finally–
“I don’t know how to lose you.”
Your eyes flickered. Sukuna stared at the floor like the words physically hurt to say. “I don’t know how to do that.”
His voice had gone rough. Not angry rough, raw rough.
“I’ve lost damn near everybody else in my life. Parents. Friends. People leave. Shit happens. Fine.” His jaw tightened. “But you…”
He looked at you finally.
And God.
You’d never seen him look afraid before. Not truly afraid.
“I can’t fucking do that with you.”
Your face wavered. Sukuna noticed immediately and stepped closer before stopping himself halfway like he didn’t trust his own body anymore.
“You’re all over this place,” he whispered desperately. “You’re in my routines. My brothers love you. Yuji asks for you before bed every damn night. Choso tells you shit he won’t tell me. Your stupid hair ties are all over my bathroom. Your coffee order’s stuck in my head permanently.”
He laughed once. Humorless. “I see somethin pink in a store and think of you automatically. That’s sick.”
A tear slid down your cheek.
“I fucked up,” he said shakily. “I know I did.” His breathing got uneven. “And I swear to God I’ll spend every day makin up for it if you let me.”
You stayed quiet. And that silence was making him unravel. Sukuna took another step forward, then another, until he was right there. Close enough that you could see his hands trembling.
Sukuna.
Trembling.
“I don’t know how to beg,” he admitted quietly. “So if I’m shit at this, that’s why.”
Your lips parted slightly. Then his voice dropped even lower.
“But please.”
The word sounded painful, like glass in his throat.
“Please don’t leave me over the worst mistake I ever made.”
You looked down immediately because your eyes filled too fast. Sukuna panicked. Actually panicked. His hands hovered near you before gripping his own wrists instead.
“Fuck– no, don’t cry, baby, please–”
“You made me cry!”
“I know, I know, I know–”
His words stumbled over each other desperately. You’d never seen him like this.
Never.
Sukuna was the kind of man who got angry when he got hurt. The kind that buried feelings so deep they turned poisonous.
But now? Now he looked like he was drowning right in front of you.
“You don’t understand,” he whispered. “I’ve been outside this apartment for an hour tryin to figure out how to make you stay.”
Your chest tightened painfully. “I almost didn’t come up,” he admitted. “Thought maybe you’d be happier if I disappeared.”
Your head snapped up immediately. “Don’t say that.”
His eyes softened instantly at your reaction. There you were, still caring, even now. That nearly destroyed him all over again.
“I love you,” he said suddenly.
You froze.
Sukuna almost never said it first. Almost never said it at all. But now the words were falling out of him uncontrollably.
“I love you so fucking much it makes me sick sometimes.” His voice shook. “You think I touched her because I wanted her? I did it because I knew it’d hurt you and I was angry and stupid and selfish.”
His face twisted in disgust at himself.
“And the second I saw your face I wanted to rip my own fucking arm off for touching her.”
Your breath hitched.
“I know sorry isn’t enough,” he whispered. “I know that.”
Then finally–
The thing that broke you completely.
Sukuna reached for your hand carefully. Tentatively, like he thought you might pull away. And when you didn’t? His entire body visibly sagged in relief.
“Please,” he whispered again. Not angry, not proud, just desperate.
“Tell me how to fix this.”
.
.
.
Will you forgive him?
I was listening to "Players Prayer" by Lloyd, and it inspired me to write something new. It’s definitely different from my usual style, but please thank the weather and the assignments and exams I have piled up for this weeeek :'( I'd honestly forgive sukuna bc i'm so downbad for him, but wat about u guuuys?
The apartment had long since fallen silent. The television downstairs had shut off hours ago.
Tokyo’s city lights barely slipped through the curtains now, casting faint silver shadows across the room while soft rain tapped quietly against the window. and there, tangled beneath dark sheets you slept peacefully in Sukuna’s arms. His body rested behind yours, large and warm against your back while one arm remained wrapped tightly around your waist.
Like even in sleep, some part of him feared you disappearing if he loosened his grip. Your breathing was soft and steady. Every now and then, your body unconsciously melted closer into his warmth, seeking him out even deeper in your sleep.
And every single time you did that, an unfamiliar feeling returned to Sukuna’s chest. That dangerous softness..The one only you could pull from him. His face rested partly against your hair while his fingers lazily brushed along your stomach beneath the soft pajamas you wore to bed. Slow and gentle circles tracing your soft skin, almost absentmindedly.
Like he was reassuring himself you were still there. But deep within sleep, a familiar memory finally came to collect him once again. and suddenly he was no longer in Tokyo.
Warm summer wind drifted through ancient temple halls lined with gold and crimson silk. The scent of incense burned softly in the air while distant bells echoed faintly somewhere beyond the palace gardens, centuries ago.
Back when Sukuna still believed himself incapable of loving anything. and then there you were. Not dressed like royalty. Not dressed like a warrior. Just… you. Kneeling quietly near the outer garden with your sleeves rolled slightly past your wrists while carefully sorting medicinal herbs into little baskets beside an elderly healer.
Sunlight poured over your skin so softly it almost looked unreal, and Sukuna remembered exactly what irritated him first. You weren’t afraid of him..Everybody else feared him. Servants lowered their heads. Sorcerers trembled. Entire villages prayed they’d never cross his path. But you?
You barely looked impressed. In fact you didn’t even notice him at first. That alone was enough to stop him in his tracks. Sukuna stood silently near the garden entrance watching you laugh softly at something the old healer said while your fingers continued separating flowers and herbs carefully. You were so gentle, and warm in his eyes.
Nothing like the bloodstained world he existed in. and for reasons he still couldn’t explain even now he kept watching. Then finally, you looked up. Your eyes met his, and the old healer beside you immediately froze in terror. The baskets dropped from his hands. “S-Sukuna---” But you tilted your head curiously instead. Studying him, like you were trying to figure him out. Sukuna remembered the exact moment irritation twisted inside his chest.
Because instead of running..instead of dropping down to your knees begging for your life to be spared..instead of worshipping him, you simply looked at him and said, “...You’re taller than the stories said.”
The healer beside you looked seconds away from death. But you? You just brushed dirt from your hands calmly before standing to your feet.
And Sukuna, the King of Curses himself actually stared at you and was speechless for the first time in centuries. Because no one had ever spoken to him so casually before. Silence immediately fell across the garden.
The elderly healer beside you went pale so quickly it almost worried you. He immediately dropped to his knees, forehead pressing against the ground. “M-My king, please forgive us---”
Only then did you realize who exactly stood before you. The King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna. Your eyes widened slightly before you quickly bowed politely in respect. “My apologies, my king,” you said softly. “My name is Y/N.”
Sukuna stared at you quietly, longer than necessary. Then slowly he tilted his head. “…Y/N,” he repeated lowly, like he was testing how your name felt in his mouth. “Hm.”
Something unreadable flickered behind those crimson eyes. “Interesting.” Beside you, the healer still trembled violently against the ground. “Please, my king,” he begged shakily. “She meant no disrespect, we beg for forgiveness---”
But Sukuna merely looked away lazily, “There’s no need for that.” The healer looked genuinely stunned. Because Sukuna was not known for mercy. Especially not over disrespect. Yet somehow, you remained completely calm standing in front of him. and that alone fascinated him. after that day..it became strange.
Because Sukuna kept returning. At first, you thought it was a coincidence. Then maybe just a little curiosity. Then eventually, you realized he was coming specifically to see you. Some days he’d stand silently beneath the garden trees while you sorted herbs beside the healer.
Other days, he’d walk beside you through the mountain paths while you gathered flowers and medicinal roots into woven baskets. At first, you barely spoke, but eventually you started explaining things to him. “These leaves help with fevers.”
“This flower is poisonous if prepared incorrectly.” Sukuna listened quietly while watching your fingers carefully sort through plants with gentle precision. “...And this one?” he asked one afternoon while holding up a dark purple flower between clawed fingers.
You looked over briefly before immediately snatching it from his hand. “That one kills people.” Sukuna then laughed lowly. “Well,” he mused, watching you carefully place the flower away, “that explains why I've grown fond of it.” You rolled your eyes. “You shouldn’t joke about things like that.”
“and yet,” he stepped slightly closer, “you’re the one teaching me about poisonous flowers.” Warmth crawled up your neck embarrassingly fast. and Sukuna noticed immediately. From that point forward, fate seemed determined to keep pulling you toward one another. One night together turned into many. Many nights turned into another, Sukuna rarely slept deeply. Not for centuries.
Most nights consisted of silence, wandering palace halls, or sitting awake while the rest of the world foolishly believed itself safe beneath the cover of darkness. But laying there beside you tonight… sleep came easier.
The warm weight of your body rested against his chest while moonlight spilled softly across tangled sheets and exposed skin. One of your legs remained thrown lazily across his waist while your breathing brushed gently against his neck.
Sukuna’s fingers traced absentminded circles against your bare back while his crimson eyes studied your sleeping face quietly. He still found it so strange. How someone so delicate managed to quiet something so violent inside him.
Then slowly your eyes fluttered open. You smiled sleepily the second you saw him staring. “...You’re doing it again.”
“Hm?”
“Watching me sleep.” Sukuna smirked faintly. “And?” You rolled your eyes softly before hiding your face briefly against his chest. “And? it's rude to stare at a sleeping lady.”
“And yet,” his hand slid lower against your waist possessively, “you keep sleeping in my bed.” Warmth spread across your cheeks instantly. Sukuna loved that. Loved how easily he could pull reactions from you. Especially when you tried pretending he couldn’t.
Then softly your hand drifted downward. Resting against your stomach. The movement immediately caught Sukuna’s attention. For a moment neither of you spoke.
Because suddenly the reality of it settled over the room all over again. You were with child…His child. Something terrifyingly fragile and impossibly precious growing inside you. Sukuna’s gaze lowered toward your stomach quietly before he leaned down, pressing a slow kiss against it.
“You should stay here permanently,” he murmured against your skin. You blinked softly. “Hm?”
“No more clan missions.” His voice remained calm. Matter-of-fact. He spoke like the decision had already been made. “No more fighting. No more sorcerers trying to use you.” His eyes lifted toward yours again. “You’ll stay beside me.” Something warm tightened painfully in your chest. Because part of you wanted that more than anything.
Sukuna continued quietly..“You can spend your days making those ridiculous medicines you like so much.” You laughed softly. “They are not ridiculous.”
“Half of them smell terrible.”
“And half of your palace is covered in blood. We all have flaws.” That actually made him laugh. Low and rough beneath his breath. Then his hand slid over yours where it rested against your stomach. “You’ll have whatever you want.”
Your chest tightened. “Sukuna---”
“I’m serious.” The room became quieter then. “Whatever life you want.” His thumb brushed slowly against your knuckles. “You’ll never have to fight for anyone ever again.”
And there it was, that terrifying sincerity he only allowed you to see. “You’ll simply be my wife.” The words settled heavily between you. Like he truly couldn’t imagine a future anymore where you didn’t belong beside him.
Your eyes softened instantly. “…I should go speak with my father first.” Sukuna’s expression darkened slightly because he never liked your father. Never trusted him. But eventually he exhaled quietly. “Fine.”
Then he pulled you closer against him again immediately afterward. Like some instinct inside him already hated the thought of you leaving his sight. “Don’t take long.”
You smiled softly against his chest. “I won’t. I promise I’ll be back soon” and that unknowingly..became the last promise you ever made to him.
As time passed, Sukuna grew impatient. At first, he told himself you were simply talking too much. You always did that whenever emotions got involved. Maybe your father was arguing. Maybe you were trying to calm him down.
Maybe you were defending your choice. Still something restless twisted inside Sukuna’s chest. Because deep down, he couldn’t understand why there would even be conflict. Why would anyone say no to your happiness?
Especially now. Especially since you were with child...His child.The thought alone softened him for only a moment before irritation returned again. Your father had spent years trying to mold you into a weapon for the clan and Sukuna hated that.
Hated the thought of your soft hands stained with blood instead of herbs and medicine. You deserved a choice. You deserved a peaceful life. You deserved a life untouched by war. and Sukuna had every intention of giving it to you.
Finally..unable to wait any longer he left the palace. The night air was cool against his skin as he walked the familiar path you always took back to him. At first, everything seemed normal. Then….he smelled blood. Sukuna stopped instantly. Every muscle in his body locked. No. No no no---In less than a second he was there.
and suddenly the world ended, because there you were. Collapsed along the stone pathway beneath the moonlight. A pool of crimson spread endlessly beneath your body, soaking through pale silk while one trembling hand remained stretched weakly forward like you had tried to crawl away.
Two clan guards lay slaughtered nearby. Their bodies were torn apart so brutally the earth itself was stained red around them. Even dying you fought…Of course you did. Sukuna stared at you silently standing completely still.
Like his mind refused to process what his eyes were seeing. Then slowly his knees hit the ground, and the weight of the world dropped with him. Nearby homes cracked violently from the pressure of his cursed energy alone.
The earth trembled beneath him, but Sukuna barely noticed. Because his hands were already reaching for you. Carefully…far more carefully than a monster like him deserved, he lifted your body into his arms. You were still warm.
His hand immediately pressed against your stomach. Nothing. Then to your chest. Nothing. No heartbeat. No movement. No life. And somehow..the silence around him deepened.
Sukuna had always been quiet by nature. But this? This silence was unbearable. Like the entire world itself had stopped breathing alongside you. Then the memories started.
Your laugh echoing through palace halls. Your hands tangled in his robes while teasing him for being “too serious.” The way you smiled sleepily at him in the mornings. The way you whispered .. “I’ll come right back.” Sukuna’s jaw clenched violently.
Because you promised. You promised you’d come back to him. A low sound finally escaped his throat then. Not rage..Something far worse. Pure, soul-crushing grief. The kind that hollowed a man out from the inside.
Slowly Sukuna stood while holding your body bridal style against his chest. His robes became soaked with your blood almost instantly. But he didn’t care. Because everything human left inside him had died beside you on that path.
The love of his life was gone. His child…was gone, and the heart he never believed he possessed now tightened so violently inside his chest it felt unbearable. Like it might explode from the pain alone. Sukuna looked down at your lifeless face one final time.. and somewhere deep inside him something merciless awakened completely.
Humanity had stolen his world from him. Soon humanity would learn exactly what kind of mistake they had made against the King of Curses.
After your death Ryomen Sukuna became something humanity could no longer comprehend. An entire calamity. The King of Curses became the most feared name spoken across the Heian Era, his massacres so brutal entire villages prayed rather than fought when they heard he was near.
There was no mercy left in him after that night. Nothing human survived your death. Sukuna after you was empty, cold and detached. The kind of monster that slaughtered without expression and walked away without looking back.
Humanity had ripped his heart from his chest. So he spent centuries ripping the world apart in return. Clans continued offering him women afterward. Hoards and Hoards of Concubines.
Beautiful daughters dressed in silk and gold, gifted to him like peace offerings from terrified families desperate to survive his wrath. But Sukuna never touched them. Not even once.
He barely even acknowledged them. The women lived entire lifetimes within his palace untouched, unseen, unwanted. Some eventually died of old age there. None of them mattered. Because every single time Sukuna looked at another woman…all he saw was what they were not.
They were not you. They did not laugh like you. Did not speak to him like you. Did not reach for his hand in sleep like you, and worst of all..they were alive. While you weren’t. So Sukuna stopped looking at people entirely after that. Stopped allowing himself attachment. And maybe that was why the dream…no this nightmare, hurt so badly.
Because even after all this time..he still remembered exactly how it felt to lose you.
Sukuna woke abruptly. A sharp breath leaving his chest while his eyes opened instantly into darkness. For a second pure panic gripped him. Then he felt you, still sleeping soundly. Still curled safely in his arms.
Relief hit him so hard it almost hurt. Then slowly, Sukuna pulled you closer against his chest, burying his face briefly near your hair while his arm tightened around your waist possessively. Like he was reassuring himself this was real.
That you were real. Not another nightmare. Not another memory. His crimson eyes studied your sleeping face quietly for a long moment before he whispered low enough that only the darkness heard him: “I waited centuries for you to return to me, my love.” His fingers brushed softly along your cheek. “and nothing will ever take you from me again.”
But you remained completely asleep. Knocked out comfortably against him while soft morning light slowly began creeping through the curtains.
Eventually you stirred first. Your brows furrowed sleepily while sunlight warmed your face. and immediately you realized Sukuna was still there. Still holding you, one arm wrapped around your waist closing you in while his face was buried in the back of your neck.
A normal person probably would’ve panicked. Told him to get the hell out of there. Questioned why he was in their bed. But instead you felt a strange sense of comfort. Like some deep hidden part of you already knew what it felt like to wake up in his arms.
Your body almost instinctively melted deeper against him before your brain caught up. Wait. What the hell are you doing? Get it together y/n. Then you shifted slightly to sit up, and Sukuna woke almost instantly once you moved.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Sunlight poured across both of your faces while sleep still lingered softly between you. Then finally you smiled faintly. “Get enough beauty sleep?” Sukuna stared at you lazily for a second before answering. “Plenty.”
His voice came out rough from sleep. Deep enough that warmth immediately spread through your thighs again. Then casually he reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His fingers lingered slightly too long near your cheek. “Did you?”
Your cheeks warmed embarrassingly fast. You rolled your eyes quickly to hide it. “Whatever.” Sukuna smirked faintly. Then you suddenly remembered your phone. “Oh---wait.” You sat up more fully. “Have you seen my phone?”
Sukuna pointed lazily toward the other side of the room. You climbed out of bed expecting anxiety immediately. Missed calls or more messages from Jacob. But when you finally unlocked your phone there was nothing.
Nothing from Jacob at all. Your brows furrowed slightly. “…Weird.” You honestly expected him to spam your phone after last night.
But instead you were left with silence. What you didn’t know was that every single message Jacob attempted sending now went directly to Sukuna instead. They were all blocked and intercepted. Controlled completely without your knowledge.
And somewhere far away Jacob’s phone sat abandoned and bloodstained beside a shattered shrine gate. Erased from the world so completely it almost felt like he never existed at all.
After setting your phone down onto the counter, you could still feel him staring at you. Like daggers pressing into the back of your neck. Slowly, you turned your head over your shoulder toward him. Before you could even ask what his problem was Sukuna spoke first.
“Get dressed.” His voice was low from sleep, rough enough to send warmth curling low in your stomach again. “There’s somewhere I want to take you.”
You blinked at him suspiciously. “…Why should I go anywhere with you?”
Sukuna tilted his head slightly at that. Then slowly he stepped closer. Gosh he was so broad and intimidating. “Interesting,” he murmured, crimson eyes locking onto yours, “You say that so confidently while your body is telling me something else .” The sarcasm in his tone made your eye twitch slightly.
Because he knew exactly what he was doing, and somehow that irritated you more because deep down…you did want to go. Which was ridiculous. You barely knew this man. At least that’s what you kept trying to tell yourself.
So instead, you turned quickly toward the bathroom before he could see the conflict on your face. “Fine,” you muttered. “Just give me a few minutes.”
Behind you, Sukuna smirked faintly. Then you disappeared into the bathroom. The hot water from the shower relaxed your muscles almost instantly, steam filling the room while your thoughts spiraled embarrassingly fast.
Why did you care so much what he thought today? You found yourself doing extra. Scrubbing carefully. Moisturizing from head to toe. Making sure your curls sat perfectly once you pinned them up into a messy bun. and when you finally stepped in front of the mirror afterward wearing a fitted white tank top, tiny Juicy Couture shorts, and white flip-flops your eyes drifted toward the black heart necklace resting against your skin.
Your fingers brushed against it softly. Then you stared at yourself for a long moment before quietly inhaling. “Just stop overthinking it,” you muttered under your breath. “Jacob made his choice.” And somehow saying that aloud hurt less than it should’ve.
When you finally stepped back out into the apartment Sukuna looked up immediately. His gaze dragged slowly down your body. From your damp curls. To the necklace. To the curve of your thighs beneath those tiny shorts. Then back upward again slowly, like a starved man.
His eyes stopped at the black heart resting against your chest once more, and something dark and possessive flickered across his face. Like seeing you still wearing it fed something dangerous inside him. Then finally his crimson eyes lifted back to yours.
Staring at you like something he’d been craving for centuries was finally within reach. You followed Sukuna out of your apartment building cautiously, your tote bag hanging from your shoulder while the early morning air brushed softly against your skin.
Waiting outside near the curb was a large black SUV. Sukuna walked ahead first before opening the back door for you himself. The leather seats were cool beneath your thighs as you climbed inside, adjusting your purse carefully onto your lap.
A second later, Sukuna entered beside you. The moment the door shut the driver immediately pulled away from the curb without a word. Like the destination had already been decided long before you stepped inside.
That made unease curl in your stomach instantly. Quietly, you reached for your phone. Just in case. You quickly turned your location on and sent it to Nobara.
YOU: with sukuna lol gotta be safe 😭
Almost immediately, three dots popped up.
NOBARA 💅💝: GIRL???
NOBARA 💅💝: if you come back pregnant don’t call me crying
You snorted quietly before covering your mouth. Beside you Sukuna’s gaze lowered toward your glowing phone screen immediately. “What’s funny?” You nearly choked on your laugh. “N-Nothing.” His eyes narrowed slightly. Clearly not believing a thing you said.
Embarrassed, you turned quickly toward the window instead, watching Tokyo blur past while trying to ignore how aware you suddenly were of his body sitting beside yours.
Then suddenly Sukuna spoke again. “So tell me.” His voice was low and dangerously calm. “What exactly do you see in that pathetic excuse for a man?” Your brows furrowed slightly. “…Jacob?”
The fact he even brought him up caught you completely off guard. Wait a damn minute... Was he actually jealous? You leaned back slightly into the seat before exhaling softly. “At first…” you admitted quietly, “it felt exciting.”
Sukuna remained silent beside you. So you continued. “ He’s like a Venus flytrap.” His eyebrow lifted slightly. You laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like…” You looked down at your hands. “You get trapped before you even realize you’re trapped.”
“And then suddenly you’re spending all your energy trying to keep someone happy who barely even notices they are killing you from the inside out.” The SUV fell quiet for a moment after that. Then Sukuna asked “So why stay?”
That question hit harder than you expected. Because honestly? You didn’t fully know anymore. Your father loved Jacob. He came from a rich family with well connections. Good for your dad’s business and the best for your future.
At least according to everyone except you. But saying all that out loud felt humiliating somehow. So instead you looked toward Sukuna suspiciously. “Why do you care?” Dangerous silence fell heavily. Because Sukuna was not used to being questioned at all.
Most people would rather die. Instead of answering he suddenly moved closer. Until your back nearly pressed against the car door.
Your breath caught instantly. One large arm draped itself across the back of the seat behind you while his other hand slid firmly against your thigh. His hand was so warm and heavy, causing your pulse to jump violently.
Then he leaned down near your ear, close enough for his breath to brush your skin. “Keep talkin to me like that and we’re going to have a very different conversation,” he murmured darkly, his large fingers firmly squeezing your thigh once, “Be grateful you don't know what's on my mind.”
Heat exploded straight into your stomach causing your thighs to instinctively press tightly together, and Sukuna noticed immediately..Of course he did. A faint smirk tugged at his mouth just as the SUV finally slowed to a stop. “We’re here.”
You blinked rapidly before looking out the window and immediately frowned. “…An abandoned hospital?” The building looked old. Half the windows were shattered while vines crawled up cracked concrete walls.The entire place looked haunted. You slowly turned toward Sukuna again. “So this is how you kill me?” He stared at you blankly. “You bring me to some creepy abandoned hospital, murder me, and dump my body in a basement somewhere?”
Sukuna stepped out of the vehicle first before glancing back at you with visible irritation. “Is there anything at all inside that head of yours?” You frowned. “If I wanted you dead,” he said coldly, “you wouldn't be standing here now.” Then he started walking away. “Now follow me.”
You quickly climbed out after him, clutching your purse tighter while unease twisted in your chest. Without even realizing it your fingers found the black heart necklace resting against your skin. Holding it instinctively, grounding yourself.
The air around the abandoned building felt… wrong. Too quiet. Like something unseen was breathing beside you. You kept glancing over your shoulder while following Sukuna deeper inside the crumbling structure. It felt like you were in a horror film as you continued following him deeper into the abandoned building…Dark hallways with flickering lights. Water dripping somewhere in the distance.
Then suddenly the atmosphere changed. The sky darkened unnaturally fast. The air pressure dropped so violently your ears popped. And before you could even process what was happening the world around you shifted.
And for the first time..you stood inside Sukuna’s domain.
Meanwhile, back at Jujutsu High Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi had just entered the classroom for morning training. Gojo sat lazily across the teacher’s desk, long legs stretched out while flipping through paperwork he clearly had no interest in actually reading.
The moment all three students walked in he tilted his head slightly. “Hm.” A grin slowly spread across his face. “Looks like we’re missing someone.”
Nobara dropped into her seat immediately. “Oh, right. Y/N’s with Sukuna.” That caught Gojo’s attention instantly. “…Is that right?” His tone shifted immediately. Yuji nodded absentmindedly while digging through snacks in his bag.
Gojo’s grin widened slowly beneath his blindfold. “How interesting.” Megumi immediately looked annoyed. “What, dude just spit it out already.” Gojo sat upright dramatically. “It’s just soooo funny how she’s conveniently absent on the exact first day she’s supposed to report here.”
Yuji blinked. “Wait… does she even know she’s supposed to start today?” The room fell quiet. Gojo tilted his head. “…Her father signed all the transfer paperwork personally himself.”
Megumi sighed instantly. “She definitely doesn’t know.” Gojo looked toward him. “And why’s that?” Megumi crossed his arms. “Because if she knew, she’d be here obviously.” That answer seemed to genuinely amuse Gojo. Nobara suddenly lifted her phone. “Well…” she said casually, “I have her location.” Three heads immediately turned toward her.
“You WHAT?” Yuji shouted. Nobara rolled her eyes. “She sent it to me earlier, idiot.” Gojo immediately clapped his hands together excitedly.“Well then!” He stood up dramatically from the seat . “Looks like we’re going on a field trip today.”
Megumi instantly facepalmed. “This is a terrible idea.”
“Probably,” Gojo agreed happily. “So let’s go.”
“We should leave them alone.” Gojo looked genuinely offended by that suggestion. “Well that wouldn’t be any fun, Megumi.” And just like that the group headed out.
Meanwhile inside the abandoned hospital.. the atmosphere felt wrong. Even the air smelled rotten. Like something had died there a very long time ago. Your arms wrapped tighter around yourself instinctively while following Sukuna deeper inside.
“…Okay,” you finally said nervously, “what exactly do you want with me?” Your voice echoed faintly through the hallway. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
Sukuna let out a low deep and amused laugh ahead of you. “You will.” That answer only irritated you more. Then suddenly, he stopped walking, and slowly looked back toward you.
“Do you know why you were really sent to Japan?” You frowned immediately. “…Yeah?” You shifted your purse higher onto your shoulder. “I got accepted into some student exchange program.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And who told you that?”
“…My dad?” you said with a confused look written all over your face. “And that’s all he told you?” You opened your mouth…then paused. Because honestly? You’d never really questioned it. Your father always handled everything for you, and you trusted him.
Sukuna watched realization slowly flicker across your face before speaking again.
“Do you remember the first time we touched?” Your stomach tightened immediately. Of course you remembered. The feeling that something inside you recognized him. “That wasn’t normal,” Sukuna said quietly.
Your brows furrowed harder. “What are you talking about?” He stepped closer slowly. “You carry an abnormal amount of cursed energy.”Silence fell for a half second before you spoke again. “…I carry what?”
“You heard me.” Your heartbeat started speeding up. “No,” you laughed nervously, “okay, seriously, what the hell are you talking about? Cursed energy? Sukuna, none of this makes any sense.” His expression remained completely serious, which somehow made everything worse.
“You were sent here because they know something is awakening inside you.” Your chest tightened painfully. “What--”
“And your father knew.” Something about the certainty in his voice made panic begin crawling slowly up your spine. “No.” You shook your head immediately. “No, he wouldn’t lie to me about something like that.”
Sukuna’s expression darkened slightly. “He’s lied to you about far worse.” That irritated you instantly. “You know what?” You stepped backward. “I’m done with this.” You turned sharply. “This whole weird cryptic thing you have going on? I’m over it.”
Then you started walking away. But behind you..Sukuna spoke again. “Your mother didn’t die from illness.” You stopped instantly. The entire hallway went silent. Slowly..you turned back toward him. “…What?” Sukuna watched you carefully. “And who told you she did?”
Rage exploded through your chest instantly. “Watch your fucking mouth.” Your voice echoed harshly through the hospital. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sukuna remained silent. “We literally just met,” you snapped. “And you think you know everything about me? You’re fucking crazy.”
Then you turned again and stormed away faster this time..until suddenly something lunged at you from the darkness. A horrifying shriek tore from your throat instantly. The creature was grotesque with twisted limbs and blackened skin with a mouth that stretched unnaturally wide.
You screamed and immediately ran straight back into Sukuna. Practically launching yourself onto him like a terrified cat. “What the FUCK IS THAT?!” Your arms wrapped around him instantly without thinking while Sukuna looked completely unbothered.
Then casually he lifted one hand, and the curse exploded into pieces instantly. Silence fell again. Your breathing came out ragged and panicked while you stared at the spot where the creature had just been.
Then slowly your eyes lifted toward Sukuna. Then back toward the blood staining the wall. Then back to Sukuna again. Your face had gone completely pale. “…I think I’m gonna be sick.”
But the second the curse exploded against the wall..another presence entered the hospital. Actually multiple. You barely had enough time to catch your breath before footsteps echoed through the dark hallway.
Then, Gojo appeared. Followed by Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara behind him. Gojo stopped the second he saw you practically clinging onto Sukuna for dear life while Sukuna stood there completely unbothered, one arm lazily around your waist.
A slow grin spread across Gojo’s face. “Well, well.” Then casually he lowered his blindfold. And for the first time you saw his eyes clearly bright blue irises, almost glowing beneath the flickering hospital lights.
Pretty enough to make your breath catch for half a second. “Look what we have here,” Gojo mused. “Skipping class already?” Slowly, you stepped down from Sukuna’s arms, confusion written all over your face. “…Class?”
You looked between all of them. “What are you talking about?” Gojo tilted his head. “You mean nobody told you?” Your stomach dropped. “Told me what?”
“You’re a Jujutsu High transfer student now.” Silence. “…I’m a what?”
“You heard me, princess.” You blinked rapidly. “No, I got transferred to---” Gojo immediately pointed dramatically. “Nope. Wrong school.”
Your face paled slightly. “My dad said--”
“Your dad,” Gojo interrupted lightly, “signed all your paperwork over to Jujutsu High himself sweet heart.”The entire hallway suddenly felt too small. “What the hell is Jujutsu High?”
Nobody answered immediately…and somehow that terrified you more. Your hands immediately grabbed your phone. “No.” You quickly called your father.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Voicemail.
Your chest tightened painfully, so you called again. Straight to voicemail again . Now panic was setting in. You texted him immediately.
YOU: Call me. Now.
YOU: What the hell is going on?
Then slowly you lowered the phone, and looked around at everyone.
Sukuna.
Gojo.
Megumi.
Nobara.
Yuji.
All of them standing there while you clearly knew absolutely nothing. “…Can someone catch me up to speed?” your voice cracked slightly. “Because clearly everybody knows something I don’t.” You glanced toward Nobara and Yuji. “I’m really not loving my friends keeping secrets from me right now.”
Yuji immediately lifted his hands. “Hey! I didn’t know either!”
“Same,” Megumi muttered. Nobara crossed her arms awkwardly. “We literally just found out today.”
Your head turned slowly toward Sukuna. And suddenly ,everything he’d been saying earlier replayed in your head. You were sent here for a reason.
Fear began climbing slowly up your spine. Then before you could say anything else Gojo suddenly vanished. Your eyes widened instantly because one second he was standing several feet away then the next second he was directly in front of you.
A violent pulse of cursed energy exploded outward from him. “Guess this’ll catch you up to speed.” Your body moved before your mind did. Pure instinct took over .You barely processed Gojo’s hand moving toward you before something inside your chest violently reacted.
Pain exploded through your body. You were thrown backward instantly. Your body slammed hard against the cracked hospital floor as air escaped your lungs violently. You coughed hard while scrambling backward. “What the hell was THAT?!” Gojo stepped toward you again calmly. “Now you understand why this needs to happen.”
Beside him, Sukuna looked one second away from murder. “She needs to learn,” Gojo continued. “Because if she doesn’t understand her cursed energy, it’ll consume her eventually.”
You barely even heard him , your pulse thundered violently in your ears. Your body felt like electricity was crawling beneath your skin. Then Gojo moved again. This time, you saw it.
Your body reacted automatically. You dodged him smoothly, like you’d trained for it your entire life. Everyone froze, Including you. Because you knew damn well you shouldn’t have been able to move like that. “What--” Then suddenly..your body counterattacked.
Your hand lashed outward instinctively, and a catastrophic wave of cursed energy erupted from your body. The hospital shook violently causing the walls to crack instantly.
The pressure alone blasted everyone backward several feet. Yuji crashed into a hospital bed. Nobara cursed loudly. Megumi immediately summoned Divine Dogs defensively. Even Gojo’s smile disappeared for a split second.
Because the cursed energy pouring from your body felt ancient. Beautiful and terrifying at the same time leaving everyone speechless in shock . You stared at your own trembling hands in horror. “I-I don’t--” Your voice broke. “What’s happening to me?”
The energy around you continued surging violently. Then suddenly..your vision blurred. The room tilted sideways. Your knees buckled instantly. “I think…” Your body swayed weakly. “…I think I’m gonna faint---” and then everything went black.
Before your body could hit the ground, Sukuna caught you instantly. One arm beneath your legs. The other against your back. Holding you securely against his chest. The look he gave Gojo afterward was genuinely murderous.
Gojo immediately lifted his hands. “Hey!” A nervous laugh escaped him. “Told you I was going to take it easy on her.” Sukuna’s cursed energy darkened the entire hallway instantly. “The next time,” he said coldly, “I won’t stand there and watch.”
Then without another word, Sukuna adjusted you higher against his chest and turned away. “Let’s go.” The entire ride back remained silent and not the peaceful kind, it was heavy. The kind stuffed full of unanswered questions nobody seemed brave enough to ask out loud.
You remained unconscious across Sukuna’s lap the entire drive, your head resting against his chest while one of his large hands stayed firmly against your waist protectively.
Nobody missed it. Not the way his grip tightened anytime the vehicle hit a bump. Not the way his eyes never left your face once.. and definitely not the murderous tension still lingering in the SUV after what happened inside the hospital.
Even Gojo stayed unusually quiet. Though the faint smirk resting against his mouth made it obvious he was thinking far too hard about something. When the SUV finally pulled up outside the apartment building, Sukuna stepped out first while still carrying you effortlessly in his arms.
Yuji quickly rushed forward. “I got her.” Sukuna stared at him for a second before finally handing you over reluctantly. Like he genuinely disliked letting go.
Then he turned back to the SUV like something was on his mind, but couldn’t find the words to explain..nor did he want to. “I’ll be back later.” Something about the way he said it made Yuji hesitate slightly.
But before anyone could ask, Sukuna disappeared…and suddenly the air felt lighter. “…That guy is terrifying,” Yuji muttered quietly while carrying you upstairs. “He’s worse when he’s emotionally attached,” Gojo said casually.
Megumi immediately looked toward him. “…You noticed it too.” “Oh please,” Gojo scoffed while following them inside. “He practically growls anytime someone gets too close to her.” Nobara blinked. “…Wait, that’s actually true.”
Inside the apartment, Yuji carefully laid you down onto the couch. A little less carefully than Sukuna probably would’ve appreciated. “Geez,” Gojo sighed dramatically while sitting beside you, “careful with the merchandise.”
Yuji immediately looked horrified. “DON’T CALL HER THAT.”
Gojo ignored him completely. Instead, he gently lifted your legs onto his lap while leaning back against the couch thoughtfully, fingers resting beneath his chin. For once, he actually looked serious. “…How interesting,” he murmured quietly.
Megumi crossed his arms nearby. “What is?” Gojo’s bright blue eyes narrowed slightly toward your sleeping form. “She has no idea.”Silence fell.
“She doesn’t even know what cursed energy is,” Nobara said softly. “Exactly.” Gojo’s smile faded slightly. “And yet her body reacted automatically.” The room grew quieter.
Yuji scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “So… what exactly does that mean?” Gojo leaned back against the couch slowly. “It means somebody hid the truth from her intentionally.”
Then after a pause..he smiled again. Dangerously this time. “But luckily for us…” His eyes lifted toward the ceiling thoughtfully. “…I know exactly who has the answers.”
Megumi immediately sighed. “Good luck getting anything out of Sukuna.” Gojo laughed softly. “Oh, if he cares about keeping her alive…” His grin widened. “He’ll talk eventually.”
Jacob woke choking on blood…Pain consumed every inch of his body. His ribs were broken. One of his eyes was swollen shut. Blood dripped steadily from his split lip while several missing teeth rested somewhere beside him on the cold floor.
For a moment, panic flooded him violently as he tried to move until he heard crying. A familiar cry. “Heather…?” His head snapped toward the sound and there she was. Heather. Your childhood best friend. The same best friend who had been sleeping with him behind your back while smiling in your face like nothing was wrong.
and now…she was chained beside him too. Trembling. Sobbing Hysterically like someone terrified for their dear life. Jacob looked around frantically afterward. There was nothing ,No walls, no sky. No exits.
Only darkness stretching endlessly in every direction like they had been dragged into some endless void.
Until, he looked up…and his blood ran cold. At the top of towering stone steps sat a throne crafted entirely from bones. And seated upon it, like a king overseeing his execution was Ryomen Sukuna.
One arm rested lazily against the throne while his head leaned against his hand, crimson eyes staring down at Jacob with complete indifference.
Like he was less than human. Less than dirt for a matter of fact. Then finally..Sukuna spoke.“Are you finished yet?” His deep voice echoed endlessly throughout the shrine.
Jacob’s breathing became uneven immediately. Sukuna slowly rose from the throne. Each step downward felt suffocating. Like death itself was approaching them calmly.
“You cry quite a lot,” Sukuna mused lowly. “Interesting for someone who enjoys torturing the love of my life...” Jacob coughed violently. Blood splattered onto the floor beneath him. Sukuna then stopped directly in front of him. Towering over him completely. “Doesn’t feel very good, does it?”
His voice remained terrifyingly calm. “Wondering why she ignored you all day.”
“Wondering what she was doing while you entertained countless whores to soothe that pathetic little ego of yours.”
Jacob clenched his jaw weakly. “You don’t know shit---”
“Oh, but I do.” Sukuna crouched slightly now, eyes narrowing coldly. “You never loved her.” Silence. “You loved being chosen by her.” Jacob froze.
“You loved that someone beautiful looked at you and decided you were worth something.” Sukuna’s expression darkened slightly. “But the second she stopped begging for your attention…” His lips slowly curled into something cruel. “You panicked like the weak little bitch you are.” Jacob’s face twisted violently. “Shut the fuck up--”
“Please!”Heather’s sobbing interrupted him. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. “Please don’t hurt him!” Jacob turned toward her in disbelief. “Heather--” “I’ll do anything!” she cried desperately. “Please!”
A low mocking laugh escaped Sukuna.Then slowly, he turned toward her. “Oh?” His crimson eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that how you feel?”
Heather froze when Sukuna stepped closer. One sharp nail tilted beneath her throat gently. And instantly, she broke. “It was him!” she screamed immediately. “Jacob pursued me first!”
Jacob’s eyes widened. “Heather, shut the fuck up!”
“He talked about her constantly!” Heather sobbed hysterically. “He said she was a spoiled bitch ! That she acted like some perfect little princess!” Jacob thrashed violently against the chains. “SHUT UP!”
“He hated how much attention she got online!” Heather cried. “Every time anyone commented on her pictures he’d lose his mind!” Sukuna remained completely silent while listening. “He said he wanted to break her down,” Heather whispered brokenly. “He hated that everyone wanted her…” Jacob looked genuinely terrified now.
But Sukuna was listening quietly and calmly. Like every word simply confirmed something he already knew. Then finally…Sukuna spoke again. “Do you know how long I’ve been empty?” Jacob went still. “For centuries.” The shrine darkened slightly around them. “I searched for her across lifetimes.”
Sukuna’s eyes lowered briefly.“And you…” For the first time…emotion cracked through his voice. Not rage but Something far, far worse. Grief. “You dared caused y/n to feel pain..intentionally.”
Silence consumed the shrine afterward. Jacob’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. Because finally…he understood. This was never another jealous man. Never another boyfriend. He had been competing against something ancient…Something inhuman.
A monster wearing human skin, and there was no escaping it.
Sukuna stared at him for one final moment. Then…he got bored. Jacob barely even saw the movement. One second Sukuna stood there calmly. The next..blood splattered violently across the shrine floor.
Jacob’s body collapsed in pieces. Like his existence had been erased faster than it could process death itself.
Heather screamed. A horrifying, broken scream. and slowly…Sukuna turned toward her. Raised his hand.
Silence. Then she fell too. The shrine became even quietier afterward. Only blood spreading slowly beneath Sukuna’s feet.
He stared at it silently…Waiting. Expecting some kind of relief or satisfaction. But none of it came. Because killing Jacob changed nothing. It didn’t erase your pain. Didn’t undo the betrayal. Didn’t silence the grief that had rotted inside him for centuries.
And worst of all…it didn’t fill the emptiness you left behind when the world tore you away from him all those lifetimes ago. That void still existed within him. And Sukuna realized then…you were never simply the missing piece of his life.
You had become the only thing tethering what remained of his soul together at all.
You woke up suddenly. A sharp breath tearing from your lungs while grief crashed into your chest so violently it almost hurt.
Your eyes snapped open to nothing but Darkness. Your heartbeat thundered painfully while unfamiliar sorrow lingered heavily inside your body like it belonged there. But why?
Your chest tightened strangely. Like you had just lost something….or someone. Slowly, you sat upright on the couch, pressing a hand against your chest while trying to calm your breathing.
“…What the hell?” The apartment was quiet. You grabbed your phone immediately. Still nothing from Jacob, and honestly? That hurt more than you wanted to admit.
Then another notification caught your attention.
YUJI 😭 : BRB getting ramen
A second message followed immediately after.
YUJI 😭 : left u snacks 👍
You slowly looked up. Sitting on the coffee table…was one singular bag of chips. You stared at it blankly. “…Of course he did.” Despite yourself, a tiny laugh escaped you. Then silence returned again.
and unfortunately..your thoughts came rushing back. The hospital..Gojo. That thing attacking you. The cursed energy. The way your body moved on its own. The wave that exploded from your hands.
Slowly…you looked down at your palms.“…What are you?” The thought alone made your stomach twist. You immediately shook your head. No. Absolutely not. You were NOT about to end up on TikTok at three in the morning listening to some conspiracy theorist explain cursed spirits with Subway Surfers gameplay underneath.
You wanted real answers. And right now..there was only one thing your brain could think to do.
Research.
Twenty minutes later, you had thrown on an oversized hoodie, shoved your wallet into your pocket, and tightened the hood over your curls while your AirPods played softly in your ears. The nearest library was only about a ten-minute walk.
So that’s where you went. Hands shoved deep into your hoodie pockets, you walked quietly through Tokyo streets while your thoughts spiraled endlessly.
Unfortunately…most of those thoughts kept circling back to Sukuna. His voice. His eyes. The way he held you like you belonged there. Like your body resting against his somehow felt natural to him. The memory made heat creep embarrassingly up your neck.
Then immediately…you shut the thought down. Absolutely not. That was exactly how you felt about Jacob in the beginning too, and look how that turned out. You weren’t stupid enough to fall into that trap again.…Right?
Still, you kept thinking about Sukuna anyway. His body. His hands. His lips. The terrifying way he looked at you like he already owned you. You groaned softly to yourself. “This is so bad.” By the time you finally reached the library, your brain already felt exhausted.
The historical section was nearly empty this late in the day. Quietly, you wandered through old shelves until certain titles started catching your attention.
The Heian Era.
Ancient Japanese Folklore.
Spiritual Manifestations.
Then..another title. The Gift of Cursed Energy. Your fingers froze against the spine. Slowly, you pulled the book free…Your stomach tightened again. You checked the books out quickly despite the clerk giving you an odd look the entire time.
But the second you turned toward the library exit, you stopped. Because parked directly outside..was the black SUV.
And leaning casually against it, with the rear passenger door already open, stood Sukuna. His head tilted slightly the moment he saw you. Like he’d been expecting this.
Your annoyance instantly returned. You walked toward him immediately. “How did you find me here?” Sukuna smirked faintly. You narrowed your eyes. “Are you gonna hide that from me too?”
He tilted his head slightly further. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Your brows lifted skeptically. “I bet you would.” Then you walked right past him. Or at least…you tried to.
Because Sukuna’s next words stopped you instantly. “Don’t you want to know what you are?” Your footsteps halted. Then Slowly, you turned your head over your shoulder toward him.
His crimson eyes locked onto yours immediately. “You promise?” you asked quietly. You pointed directly at him. “No more secrets.” For once, Sukuna’s expression softened slightly. “I promise.”
You hesitated…Then sighed. “…Fine.” A victorious little smirk tugged at Sukuna’s mouth instantly. The ride back remained quiet. But the tension was so thick it almost felt like it was suffocating you. Like something huge sat between both of you waiting to explode eventually.
Then finally, the SUV stopped outside your apartment building again. Sukuna looked toward you calmly. “How long do you need?” You frowned. “…For what?”
“To pack.”..Silence. You blinked slowly. “…Excuse me?”
“How long,” Sukuna repeated calmly, “do you need to pack your things?” You stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “I’m not packing anything.” You gestured toward the apartment building outside. “This is my apartment. My dad paid a full year for this place and I’m damn sure using it.”
The atmosphere inside the SUV shifted instantly, dangerously. Suddenly--- Sukuna’s hand slammed against the side of the seat beside your head hard enough to make you jump violently.
Your breath caught. Then immediately, his fingers wrapped around your chin firmly. Tilting your face upward until you had no choice but to look directly into his eyes. “Go pack your things.”
Heat rushed violently through your body at the tone alone. His tone was absolutely certain. Like he fully expected obedience,and there you were giving it to him. Then while still holding your chin...Sukuna casually opened the passenger door beside you.
Cold air rushed inside instantly. “I’ll give you five minutes.” Your eyes widened.
“Five minutes to pack my entire apartment?!” Sukuna’s thumb brushed slowly against your jaw. And the faintest smirk crossed his face. “If you’re not downstairs by then…” His crimson eyes darkened slightly. “…I’ll come get you myself.”
As you walked back into the apartment building, your heartbeat still hadn’t calmed down. …You were already planning your escape. The second you got upstairs, you were gonna lock the door, block Sukuna’s number, crawl into bed, and pretend none of this was happening.
Because the way he made you feel? It was getting dangerous. Every word out of his mouth somehow sank beneath your skin deeper than it should have…and that terrified you.
No…you needed answers first. That’s all this was. Answers. That’s what you kept telling yourself while stepping off the elevator and walking toward your apartment door.
You unlocked it quickly, then froze. Every single one of your belongings was already packed neatly beside the front entrance.
Your suitcase. Your clothes. Your books. Even your skincare products. All packed. Your stomach dropped instantly. And standing calmly in the middle of your apartment…was a woman.
White hair, wearing a traditional robe and still as a statue. Your pulse jumped violently. “Who are you?”
The woman immediately lowered her head respectfully. “My apologies, my lady.” Your brows furrowed harder. “…Why did you touch my stuff?” The woman lifted her head slowly then.
And the look in her eyes genuinely startled you for a second…Like she was staring at something holy. “He instructed me to pack your belongings,” she answered calmly.You blinked. “…He?”
“My lord Sukuna” The way she said his name sounded almost sacred. Like devotion carved into bone. “And you just…” You gestured wildly toward your apartment. “Thought this was normal?!”
The woman tilted her head slightly. “…Yes.” That somehow irritated you even more. Yet at the same time…you were too mentally exhausted to keep fighting anymore. Everything felt upside down. Your dad lied to you. You apparently had cursed energy. People were hiding things from you.
and somehow the one person giving you partial answers was the terrifying man currently waiting outside in a black SUV…. You didn’t know who to trust anymore. Not even Sukuna.
But at least with him..you knew he was dangerous. Slowly, you inhaled deeply before straightening yourself back up. “…Thank you,” you muttered awkwardly to the woman.
She bowed immediately. Then quietly..you grabbed your things and headed back downstairs. Outside, Sukuna already stood beside the SUV waiting.
The passenger door open. Like he knew you’d come back. Your eyes narrowed slightly at him before climbing silently into the vehicle anyway. The second you sat down, a low rumble left Sukuna’s chest. Almost satisfied. “That’s my good girl.” Heat rushed instantly through your body.
You hated how much that affected you. Sukuna climbed in beside you afterward, shutting the door softly behind him. Then silence again….the kind so thick it felt tangible.
You looked at him. He looked at you. Neither of you speaking. Neither of you looking away. Until finally… the engine turning over broke the tension slightly. Sukuna’s gaze lowered absentmindedly then, toward your neck. The black heart necklace still rested against your skin.
Still worn willingly. His throat tightened subtly. Then quietly, he looked away toward the window. Because for the first time in centuries..that endless emptiness inside him no longer felt quite as unbearable.
And slowly, piece by piece…
the void inside the King of Curses began filling again.
The moment you stepped back into your apartment after the beach, the silence hit you immediately…Unfortuntaely for you it wasn't peaceful at all.
The silence was full of heaviness, the kind that leaves you alone with your thoughts. Your tote bag slid from your shoulder onto the floor as you kicked your sandals off near the door. The faint scent of sunscreen and ocean water still clung to your skin, and your hair remained slightly tangled from the wind.
But all you could think about…was him.
Sukuna.
The way his hand grabbed your thigh beneath the table. The way he looked at you in that bikini like he wanted to drag you somewhere private and never let anybody else see you again. The way your stomach flipped every single time he leaned close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin.
You groaned loudly before dropping face-first onto the couch. “This is bad,” you mumbled into the cushion. Because it WAS bad.
You had a boyfriend… A horrible boyfriend ? Yes. An emotionally manipulative ass hole who ignored you for hours and only texted when he felt like ruining your day? Absolutely.
But still..technically your boyfriend..and yet somehow.. you couldn’t stop thinking about another man’s hands on you.
Your phone buzzed suddenly beside you. Immediately your heart jumped.
Jacob? No…Unknown Number. Your stomach somehow flipped harder, because You already knew who it was. That same dangerous warmth spread beneath your skin again as you stared at the message for a solid ten seconds before finally opening it.
SUKUNA : still thinking about me, little lamb?
Your face immediately burned. “Oh my god.” You threw the phone beside you dramatically. Then immediately grabbed it again.
YOU : you’re actually insane.
The typing bubble appeared instantly..Like he’d already been waiting.
SUKUNA : and yet you still replied.
Your stomach tightened embarrassingly fast. Before you could even think of a comeback.. another message appeared.
SUKUNA : Such a pretty little thing wasting herself trying to make another man jealous..Was that tiny little show for him ..or for me?
Your jaw dropped while a slow heat coiled inside your stomach, dangerous and thrilling at the same time.
YOU : I was NOT jealous… and idk what your talking about..
SUKUNA : hm..
SUKUNA : keep telling yourself that..
You stared at the screen with narrowed eyes. Then suddenly another text popped up.
But this time it was from Jacob.
JACOB❤️: you posting your body online for attention now?
And just like that..your mood dropped instantly.
The warmth Sukuna’s messages caused disappeared completely. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard while frustration built in your chest all over again.
Meanwhile, miles away..inside his penthouse suite overlooking bright city lights--- Sukuna watched your expression change through the cloned phone screen connected to his monitor.
The second he saw Jacob’s name appear his smile vanished, and when he watched your face fall afterward…Something dangerous shifted behind his eyes. “…Pathetic.”
He leaned back slowly in his chair, staring at Jacob’s contact information on the second monitor. Then quietly..almost thoughtfully he smiled again. But this time..There was absolutely nothing warm about it.
Meanwhile, across the world Jacob’s phone buzzed harshly against the table. He barely glanced at it at first, too busy laughing with his friends while music blasted throughout the room. But then he noticed the contact.
Unknown Number.
His brows furrowed slightly before opening the message.
UNKNOWN : still crying over pictures of something that was never yours?
Jacob scoffed immediately. The typing bubbles appeared almost instantly afterward.
UNKNOWN : careful..desperation looks ugly on you
Jacob rolled his eyes as he began typing frantically .
JACOB : who the fuck is this?
The reply came immediately.
UNKNOWN : Her future, unfortunately for you.
Jacob laughed loudly at that. Actually laughed. His friends looked over at him confused while he shook his head. “No way this loser is serious.”
Then he started typing aggressively.
JACOB : you talking about Y/N?
JACOB : bro she is NEVER leaving me for some pathetic loser sitting around texting another girl’s boyfriend all day.
JACOB : get a fucking life
For a few seconds nothing came through. Then finally..another message appeared.
UNKNOWN : im beginning to grow tired of your existence.
Jacob’s jaw tightened instantly.
UNKNOWN : an insecure desperate clingy worthless piece of shit who will find out soon enough..
Jacob stared harder at the screen now. Because somehow..every message felt way too personal. Like this stranger actually knew him.
UNKNOWN : I don’t know why she would ever settle for a weak little peasant like you.
Jacob immediately stood from the couch. “What the fuck?”
His friends looked over again. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Jacob muttered quickly. “Some weirdo.” But honestly his chest felt tight now. Because the messages didn’t feel normal anymore.
They felt precisely targeted. Almost mocking in a sense..
Jacob typed back harder this time.
JACOB : what do you even want?
JACOB : you think she’s gonna choose some obsessed loser over me?
JACOB : you don’t even know her.
A pause. Then..Jacob frowned. Then suddenly his phone buzzed again. An image attachment.
Jacob opened it casually then immediately froze. His stomach DROPPED. It was a picture of him. Right now. Standing in the exact living room he was currently in.
Taken from behind him. His heart slammed violently into his ribs. Slowly..Jacob turned around. Nothing…Nobody there. His friends were still talking near the kitchen completely unaware.
“What the fuck…”
Another text came through immediately.
UNKNOWN : oh.
UNKNOWN : it’s not funny anymore, huh?
Jacob’s breathing became uneven. He walked toward the window quickly, checking outside.
Nobody was there either...Nobody should’ve been able to take that picture. Especially not from that angle.
Then another image appeared. This time from outside the house. A clear shot through the living room window. Jacob stumbled backward slightly. “What the fuck is this?”
His friends finally noticed something was wrong. “Jacob?”
But he barely heard them. Because his hands were shaking now. And somewhere far away inside a dark penthouse illuminated only by city lights.. Sukuna leaned back in his chair with amusement dancing behind his crimson eyes.
One of his curses crouched silently beside Jacob in real time, feeding visuals directly back to him. Sukuna smiled slowly. Now THIS was fun. Watching Jacob’s ego crumble in real time. Watching fear finally settle into him.
Good.
He wanted him scared. Terrified for his pathetic life. Because men like Jacob only understood loss once they felt powerless themselves.
Then suddenly..another notification appeared across Sukuna’s cloned monitor.
Y/N.
Sukuna’s smile immediately softened. Completely different from the one he wore moments ago. Interesting…So now when Jacob upset you…you came looking for him instead.
Exactly what he wanted.
YOU : seems like your the jealous one...
The moment the message appeared across Sukuna’s screen, he smiled darkly. Like your message amused him far more than it should have. His fingers tapped slowly against the armrest of his chair before he finally typed back.
SUKUNA : jealous of what, little lamb?
A few seconds later another message appeared.
SUKUNA : you still haven’t told me what you were dreaming about last night.
The second you read it..heat flooded straight into your stomach. Your thighs pressed together instinctively beneath the blanket as flashes from the dream replayed inside your head all over again.
Sukuna above you, pinning your wrist down over your head…Those slow, breathless kisses that made your chest tighten even in your sleep.
The way he looked at you in the dream..like he already owned every part of you.
Your face burned immediately.
YOU : were you watching me sleep?
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
SUKUNA : so you WERE dreaming about me.
Your breath caught. And honestly..A normal person probably should’ve been terrified right now. Because did he just casually admit to watching you sleep? That should have scared you. Should have made you block his number immediately.
But instead..your stomach only tightened harder and somehow that realization embarrassed you more than anything else. You hated the fact you liked it. Hated the way your pulse quickened every time he texted you. Hated the warmth spreading through your chest knowing he was probably somewhere smiling at his phone right now because of you.
So instead you tried to play it off.
YOU : next time i’m sleeping with a knife.
SUKUNA :that should be fun.
Your eyes widened immediately. “Oh my god,” you muttered aloud. Then finally you tossed the phone beside you dramatically before burying your face into the pillow.
“He’s actually insane.” There was absolutely no way he was really watching you sleep. Right? He was probably just messing with you. Flirty in that completely unhinged Sukuna way.
Yeah…That had to be it. Eventually you shut the lamp off beside your bed before curling deeper beneath the blankets.
But sleep came slowly this time. Because every single time you closed your eyes you saw him. The way his hand squeezed your thigh beneath the table. The way his voice dropped low in your ear.
The way his eyes darkened every time you challenged him, and worst of all..the way your body reacted to him.
By the time sleep finally claimed you..your dreams were nothing but flashes of Sukuna. His hands. His voice. His mouth against your skin.
And somewhere far away, inside the darkness of his penthouse Sukuna leaned back in his chair while staring at the cloned phone screen connected to his monitor.
Watching the “active now” bubble beside your profile finally disappear. Then quietly..almost possessively he murmured to himself, “…Sweet dreams, little lamb.”
The next morning you woke up slowly beneath warm blankets, still half tangled in sleep.
For a few quiet seconds, you just stared at the ceiling. Then your eyes shifted toward the corner of your room. The exact place you swore someone had been watching you from the other night.
Empty.
You let out a small breath and rubbed your eyes tiredly. “Okay,” you muttered to yourself. “I’m officially losing it.”
But the moment you sat up something cold brushed against your collarbone. Your brows furrowed immediately. “…What?” Your fingers slowly reached upward and froze.
A necklace. A silver chain rested against your skin with a small black heart dangling from the center. Your heart skipped violently.
“What the hell---” You jumped out of bed and hurried toward the mirror. The necklace sat perfectly against your chest. It was pretty and delicate. But you KNOW for a fact you did not own this.
You stared at your reflection suspiciously. “...Did I put this on half asleep?” No.
..There was no way. You would’ve remembered. Right? A weird warmth spread through your stomach anyway, somehow you already knew exactly who put it there.
“…Whatever.” Trying very hard not to think about it anymore, you eventually showered and got ready for the day.
Fresh curls framed your face while your little capri one-piece hugged your body perfectly. You clipped part of your hair back neatly before adding earrings that accidentally matched the necklace almost perfectly.
Then--- BANG BANG BANG.
“Y/N!”
You laughed immediately. “Nobara.” The second you opened the door, Nobara nearly fell inside carrying bags upon bags filled with skincare products. Under-eye masks. Face masks. Rollers. Creams.
Even one of those glowing red-light beauty devices. “Nobara what the hell is all this?”
She looked at you like you’d insulted her personally. “SELF CARE.” You burst out laughing while helping her carry everything inside.
Soon enough, both of you sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by skincare products while Nobara aggressively explained each one.
“This one makes your skin glow.”
“This one tightens pores.”
“And THIS one? Oh my god. Literal heaven.” You laughed while she pressed a cold face mask against your cheeks dramatically.
Then suddenly..Nobara got quieter, Then she spoke more serious than she ever sounded before..“...You've been seeing the way sukuna looks at you, right?”
You blinked.“…Yeah. Like I’m something to eat.”
Nobara snorted. “No. More like something he’d kill for.”
That made your stomach tighten. Because you knew exactly what she meant. Nobara leaned back against the couch. “I’m serious, Y/N. When Sukuna wants something…” she paused carefully, “... it already belongs to him.”
A chill crawled slowly down your spine as that warmthness began to settle in again. That confused you more than anything. Does he want me? The thought appeared before you could stop it. Am I his? Your phone buzzed suddenly.
A post notification from Jacob. Immediately the warmth disappeared. You opened his story silently.
He was at a pool party. Girls in lewd bikinis everywhere. Posting intentionally provocative angles like he wanted you upset. Your chest ached for only half a second this time.
Then suddenly…you felt nothing. “....You know what?” you muttered quietly. Nobara looked over, and without hesitation, you unfollowed him, turned your location off, and muted his text messages.
Then finally, you switched your phone onto Do Not Disturb and tossed it onto the couch.
No texting him. No arguing. No begging. You were done giving him your energy.
Nobara stared proudly. “That’s my girl.”
Meanwhile…inside Jujutsu Headquarters---
Sukuna watched the entire thing happen through the cloned phone screen resting beside him.
The moment you unfollowed Jacob, a dark smile spread across his face. Good girl.. But across the table Gojo noticed immediately.
Gojo tilted his head curiously behind his glasses while watching Sukuna stare at the screen with unsettling focus. Then slowly a grin spread across HIS face too. “Well well.”
Sukuna didn’t look up. Gojo leaned back lazily in his chair. “Quite obsessed, are we?” Still, Sukuna said nothing. That only amused Gojo more.
Principle Yaga sighed tiredly from the head of the table while Nanami quietly reviewed documents nearby pretending not to listen. Gojo continued anyway. “You know…” he hummed thoughtfully, “I’m actually excited to see what her cursed techniques are capable of.”
Sukuna’s fingers stopped tapping. Gojo smirked wider immediately. “The amount of cursed energy she’s carrying naturally?” he whistled softly. “She’d be insane under proper training.” Silence. Then Gojo added casually--- “I’ll make sure to go niceeee and easyyy on her.”
The air shifted instantly violently. Nanami looked up immediately. President Yaga froze.
Because Sukuna’s cursed energy exploded through the room so aggressively the windows CRACKED. “You wanna fucking die?” Sukuna asked quietly.
Gojo grinned. “Oh? Touchy subject?”
In an instant Sukuna stood. The chair behind him shattered from the force alone.
Gojo moved immediately too, still smiling, though now his eyes sharpened slightly beneath the shades.“Relax,” Gojo teased. “You can’t blame me for being curious. Pretty girls with cursed energy issues are kinda my type.”
Sukuna grabbed him by the collar instantly. “Watch your fucking mouth.” The pressure in the room became suffocating. Pure cursed energy crushing against the walls violently enough that lower level sorcerers outside immediately stumbled.
“ENOUGH.” Principle Yaga slammed his hand against the table.
Both men paused. “You two are acting ridiculous,” he snapped. “We have more important matters.” Sukuna released Gojo roughly. Nanami adjusted his glasses calmly. “The transfer paperwork has already begun,” he said evenly. “If she truly possesses this level of cursed energy unconsciously, keeping her untrained could become dangerous.”
Sukuna’s expression darkened immediately. “No.” The room fell into complete silence. Sukuna’s voice dropped lower this time. “She’s not fighting.”
Gojo tilted his head. “Oh?” And suddenly for the briefest second Sukuna’s mind flashed backward. To another lifetime. You standing beside him beneath lantern light. Your gaze was beautiful and soft, untouched by war. While your father demanded you train harder, fight harder..Become stronger.
And eventually that path led you straight toward death.
The memory twisted something ugly inside his chest instantly. When Sukuna spoke again his voice sounded almost threatening. “She was never meant to fight.”
Principle Yaga narrowed his eyes slightly. “Sukuna---”
“She’s not becoming a sorcerer.” The pressure in the room spiked again. “She’s not risking herself.”
Gojo studied him more carefully now. Because this? This wasn’t normal. Not even for Sukuna. And when Sukuna finally turned toward the door---his voice came out cold enough to freeze the room. “Leave her the fuck alone.” Then he walked out.
Silence followed afterward. Gojo stared toward the doorway thoughtfully. Then finally he laughed softly. “...Wow.” Nanami sighed. The President rubbed his temples tiredly.Gojo leaned back in his chair with a grin. “I’ve never seen him act like that over anything.”
Meanwhile..Sukuna walked through the halls of Jujutsu Headquarters with one hand in his pocket while his phone rested lazily in the other.
But behind those calm eyes he was irritated. No. He was pissed off entirely.
Gojo’s little comments replayed in his head over and over. “Pretty girls with cursed energy issues.” The way he dragged out nice and easy making it obvious he wasn't talking about training anymore..The thought alone made Sukuna’s jaw tighten.
As if anybody would ever put their hands on you. His thumb tapped once against the screen before opening Jacob’s contact again.
Meanwhile, across the world
Jacob stood near the kitchen island at the crowded party while some random girl laughed beside him. Truthfully…He was trying very hard not to think about you. Trying to distract himself in any way possible to remove you from his mind. Trying to convince himself he didn’t care when deep down inside he knew it killed him to think you found someone better… “She probably already moved on,” one of his friends joked.
Jacob forced a laugh. “Yeah. Whatever.”
The girl beside him handed him another drink before asking for his Instagram. Jacob smirked slightly while typing it into her phone, and the second he turned around---his stomach DROPPED.
His cup was full of nails. Rusty and sharp literally overflowing from the cup. Jacob stumbled backward immediately. “What the FUCK?!”
The girl beside him blinked. “What?” But when she looked at the cup it was normal. Just alcohol.
Jacob froze. His breathing became uneven instantly. “What the hell…” His phone buzzed.
UNKNOWN : drink it.
Jacob’s face went pale like he had just seen his life flash before his eyes. He looked around immediately. Music still blasted loudly throughout the house while everybody continued partying completely unaware.
Jacob typed aggressively.
JACOB : you’re a fucking pussy.
JACOB : all this weird shit but you still won’t say anything to my face?
For a moment after the messages sent nothing happened. Then suddenly something invisible MOVED behind him. Before Jacob could even react the cup violently launched itself across the room. Alcohol splattered everywhere as nails scattered across the floor.
One sliced directly across Jacob’s forearm. “SHIT!” Jacob grabbed his arm immediately. But the second he looked up… nobody else reacted. His friends kept talking to random girls laughing. Everything was completely normal. Like they didn’t even see it happen.
Jacob’s heart began slamming violently against his ribs now. “What the fuck...” Another text appeared instantly.
UNKNOWN : are you sure you want me to come say it to your face?
UNKNOWN : pathetic little bitch.
Jacob looked around frantically now. Actually scared. Because suddenly the room didn’t feel normal anymore. The lights felt dimmer…The corners felt darker. And somewhere very close…he swore he heard nails scraping softly across the ceiling above him.
Back at your apartment, Nobara suddenly sat upright on the couch dramatically. “You know what?” You looked over. “What?”
“We’re doing movie night.” You blinked. “…Right now?”
“Yes RIGHT NOW.” Honestly, That sounded perfect. You needed a distraction anyways. Something that didn’t involve crying over Jacob or overthinking every single interaction with Sukuna.
So you smiled softly. “Actually…” you stretched slightly beneath the blanket, “…movie night at my place sounds nice.”
Nobara gasped loudly. “I THOUGHT YOU’D NEVER ASK.” Immediately she jumped off the couch and pointed toward the door dramatically. “I’m going next door to get the idiots.”
“The idiots?”
“Yuji and Megumi.” And before you could answer, she was already gone. You laughed softly to yourself before looking down at your phone. Your thumb hovered over Sukuna’s contact for a second.
Then finally
YOU : movie night?
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
SUKUNA : thought you’d never ask, little lamb.
Your stomach tightened embarrassingly fast. You hated how easily he affected you now. Still..you smiled anyway. Soon enough, you began setting your apartment up for the night.
Soft blankets spread across the couch. Big fluffy pillows everywhere. Lights dimmed low enough to feel cozy. The faint scent of popcorn already filled the apartment while a candle burned softly near the television.
Then you changed into your pajamas, a cute matching sleep set that hugged your body comfortably while still soft enough to lounge in.
Just as you finished fixing your hair the front door burst open. “We come bearing snacks!” Yuji announced dramatically. Nobara walked in carrying bags overflowing with candy and drinks while Megumi followed behind them already looking exhausted.
But behind all three of them Sukuna stepped through the doorway slowly.
And immediately your breath caught. Because there was something about the dark and possessive way he looked at you tonight. Like he’d walked into the room already knowing exactly where his eyes would land.
And once they did they never left.. Like a man seeing something he already decided belonged to him. His crimson eyes dragged slowly over your body taking in the soft little pajama set hugging your figure comfortably before his gaze stopped completely.
The black heart necklace rested perfectly against your skin, and for the briefest second something shifted in his expression subtly. A faint satisfaction. Like seeing it around your neck scratched something deep and territorial inside him.
His eyes lingered there longer than they should have. On the silver chain. The black heart. The proof that you wore something he gave you without taking it off. Without questioning it nearly enough made corner of his mouth lifted slightly..
And when his gaze finally returned to your face it felt heavier somehow. Like he was imagining exactly how pretty you’d look wearing things chosen only by him.Yuji, completely oblivious, dropped onto the floor beside the coffee table and started sorting through movies on your tv dramatically. “Okay. Important decision.”
Yuji immediately stood and pointed excitedly. “YES.”
Nobara groaned loudly. “This is rigged.” But Sukuna had already grabbed the remote. “Well,” he said calmly while clicking the movie on, “guess we’re watching Divergent.”
Yuji smirked victoriously before dropping down crisscrossed in front of the TV, already shoving popcorn into his mouth dramatically. Meanwhile Sukuna sat and manspread across your couch. One arm stretched lazily across the back of it like he owned the entire apartment.
Then without saying a word, he patted the empty spot beside him. Your stomach tightened instantly. Everybody noticed. Especially Nobara, that girl looked one second away from exploding.
Still you walked over anyway. And the second you sat beside him.. Sukuna’s arm slid around your shoulders naturally before pulling you closer against his side. And this time…you didn’t protest.
You simply relaxed against him while the movie started playing. Sukuna looked down at you briefly, the faintest hint of satisfaction crossed his face.
Meanwhile across the room--- Nobara silently kicked Yuji aggressively. Yuji looked confused.
Megumi sighed deeply. Then about halfway into the movie, your phone suddenly buzzed against the couch cushion beside you.
You glanced down lazily and immediately froze.
FaceTime Incoming : JACOB❤️
You quietly stood from the couch, careful not to disturb anybody as your phone continued vibrating in your hand. But even as you walked toward your bedroom you could still feel Sukuna’s eyes following you. Like he hated watching you walk away from him even for a second.
The moment your bedroom door shut behind you, you answered the FaceTime aggressively.
“Jacob, what?” Jacob’s face immediately appeared on the screen looking tense.
“No, seriously, you need to listen to me right now--”
“Listen to YOU?” you snapped quietly. “Why ? So you can rub it in my face that you spent all day partying with random girls again ?”
Jacob frowned immediately. “Y/N---”
“No, seriously, what do you WANT from me?” you whispered harshly. “You ignore me for days, post girls all over your story, make me feel like shit constantly, and then call me acting crazy when I finally stop begging you for attention.”
Jacob ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. “You’re twisting everything.”
You scoffed. “Oh really? Wonder how many numbers you got today.” That guilty look crossed his face for only half a second. But you caught it immediately..that hurt more than anything.
Your chest tightened painfully before you looked away from the screen. “…I’m so done with this,” you muttered quietly. “I can’t keep doing this with you.”
Then..your bedroom door creaked open slowly behind you. You turned slightly. Sukuna stood there silently. Watching. That same dark look sitting behind his crimson eyes like he already knew exactly what this conversation was doing to you.
Your pulse immediately quickened. You lifted your hand slightly toward him, silently telling him to stop at the doorway while you stayed on the phone.
Jacob noticed instantly. “…Who’s that?”
You ignored him. “Just listen to me,” Jacob said quickly, panic starting to creep into his voice now. But before he could continue, Sukuna finally spoke. “You’re missing the movie, little lamb.”
His voice came out low and deep enough that it practically rumbled through your spine. Warmth spread embarrassingly fast through your stomach and between your legs the second he spoke.
And over the phone, Jacob froze completely. Because hearing Sukuna’s voice? Actually hearing him? Sent something cold through his body instantly.
Meanwhile back in Jacob’s room, he reached absentmindedly for the water bottle sitting beside him.
But the second he lifted it his entire body locked up.
The bottle was full of blood. Dark and thick sloshing slowly against the plastic. Jacob immediately dropped it. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” The bottle hit the floor..and suddenly it was water again. Like nothing happened.
Jacob’s breathing turned uneven instantly. Then when he looked back at the screen…you had already hung up.
Back inside your apartment you slid your phone down slowly while trying very hard to ignore how intensely Sukuna was staring at you.“...whatever,” you muttered quietly.
Sukuna said nothing. He simply stepped aside silently, allowing you to walk back toward the living room first. But the second you sat back down beside him..his arm immediately wrapped around you again. Like it belonged there…Like you belonged there.
Then casually he took your phone from your hand. You blinked. “What are you---” Without a word, Sukuna silenced it completely before placing it farther down the couch out of your reach.
Like he was done allowing Jacob access to you tonight, and strangely..you didn’t even argue. Because for the first time in weeks your chest didn’t hurt anymore. You felt…safe.
The movie continued quietly afterward.Yuji laughed too loudly at random scenes. Nobara eventually threw popcorn at him. Megumi looked half asleep already.
You barely paid attention anymore. Because Sukuna’s warmth beside you slowly relaxed your entire body, and before you realized it your eyes started growing heavy. Eventually your head tipped sideways against Sukuna’s chest.
Then slowly...you drifted fully asleep against him. The room immediately went quiet. Nobara’s eyes widened. Yuji looked between both of you awkwardly. Even Megumi blinked slightly.
Because Sukuna..the Ryomen Sukuna..looked down at you like you were something fragile. Something precious , far too delicate for the rest of the world to touch.
Carefully, almost unbelievably gently he adjusted you against him. Lifting you fully onto his lap so your body rested across him while your head tucked perfectly beneath his jaw against his chest.
One of his large hands stretched across your waist and settled protectively against your back, and he stayed like that. Quietly holding you while the movie played in the background.
Nobody really knew what to say. And honestly..Nobody wanted to test him tonight either. So eventually, one by one they all quietly left.
Nobara paused near the doorway briefly before glancing back at you curled against Sukuna.
Then silently, she smiled.
The apartment eventually became still. Sukuna looked down at your sleeping face for a long moment before finally standing carefully with you still asleep against him.
He carried you toward your bedroom effortlessly. Once inside, he placed your phone far across the room before laying you gently onto the bed. You stirred slightly in your sleep. But the second Sukuna climbed in behind you..warmth immediately relaxed your body again. His arm wrapped slowly around your waist while he pulled you back against his chest.
And almost instinctively you melted closer to him in your sleep.
Sukuna froze slightly. Because something unfamiliar spread slowly through his chest. His arm tightened slightly around your waist while his chin rested lightly near the top of your head.
And for the first time in years Sukuna felt… peaceful. The sound of your breathing. The warmth of your body against his.The way you instinctively sought comfort from him even in your sleep it did something violent to his mind.
Because now..Now he knew for certain. You were his.
Not Jacob’s.
Not anyone else’s.
His.
And as his crimson eyes slowly lowered toward your sleeping face, one dark thought echoed quietly through his mind…Anybody who tried to stand between that fact…would disappear.
Anybody.
He would wipe their existence from the face of the earth if they dared place their hands on something that belonged to him. Because nobody else deserved you. Nobody else would touch you or Love you and Protect you. Not the way he could.
Never again would somebody rip you away from him…Not in this life. Not in any life after this one. Slowly, Sukuna buried his face slightly against your hair and inhaled softly.
Then finally, his eyes drifted shut beside you.
And somewhere far away..inside the darkness of Jacob’s bedroom..the invisible curse crouched silently on the ceiling above him.
You're in love with Toji. So in love that you put that serious age gap aside, turned a blind eye to his financial instability and embraced all the risks he brought with him.
You ignored all your friends' advice, their attempts to find someone better for you, someone your age who would be on the same page as you.
But what did you do? You fell first and fell harder.
And that was your biggest mistake; to love a man more than he loves you.
Now, tension has been sitting there for weeks.
You felt it, the distance, the nights he disappears, the cold mornings, the way he doesn't really hold you after sex saying he's got an urgent work to do.
It felt like he knows how to want you, but not how to love you.
You knew about his past, about his dead wife.
And you knew that healing takes time just like love. So you gave him plenty of it.
But it still hurts.
And by the way he murmurs her name in his sleep, you came to the conclusion that Toji still hasn't moved on from her.
"You're leaving again?" you asked as you watched him grab his jacket, in the middle of the night.
"Got work" he muttered.
"You said that last night too!"
"Yeah, and ?" He said without even glancing at you.
That attitude, that cold, detached tone was your last straw.
"Do you even want me to be here? Because it seems like you can't even bear looking at me".
That made him pause, slowly he glanced at you, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Your chest tightened, "It means I'm tired of feeling like I don't matter to you"
Toji scoffed, like you were being dramatic, "You just enjoying starting arguments, don't you?"
"I'm not trying to start anything, Toji"
He exhaled, "Then what do you want, hm?"
"To communicate. To talk." you answered
He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, "Talk about what?"
"About you. About her" you blurted out and he froze.
"You said her name in your sleep.. you always do" you added quietly.
Toji didn't move an inch, "So?"
That "so" felt like a punch to the guts.
"So?" you repeated, "You were always calling out for her when I was there right beside you" .
"You're just making a big deal outta nothing" he replied.
"You really think it's outta nothing?..I feel like I'm in a fucking competing with someone who isn't even al–" your voice rose slightly but you stopped yourself, shutting your eyes.
His eyes darkened, "Finish the sentence"
But you didn't.
You let out a shaky sigh and said, "I get it, took me long enough but now I do".
"You get what?" he asked in confusion.
You looked straight at him, "I'm just filling in for her. I'm filling that space, that emptiness until you decide I'm no longer needed for your lonely ass" you spat through gritted teeth.
For a second, something flickered in his expression, guilt mixed with irritation and frustration.
He still hasn't moved, still crossing his arms, "If you feel that way, then that's a YOU problem"
Your breath hitched, "A ME problem?"
"Yeah" he shrugged, "I didn't ask you to think like that. And if it's affecting you that much then—"
"—Then leave?" you finished for him.
"Don't put words in my mouth Yn" his jaw tightened.
"Yeah, but you sure as hell give me every reason to" you spat.
"You're being dramatic right now and I don't have time for this" he rolled his eyes.
You just stared at him, heart breaking, lump forming in your throat.
You wanted to punch the shit out of him, to let all of your anger on him.
And in that moment, you regretted loving him, sacrificing so much, ignoring your friends' advice just to be with a man who can't handle his own feelings, his own life.
If you can just undo it all.
If you can just turn back time and go back to the night you met at that bar, where he was drinking his pain away, then you'd just walk past him and never go home with him.
You looked down, "The heart can't love two souls at the same time, Toji" you said softly, voice cracking, "So I'm just someone you sleep with?"
His tongue clicked, he was so frustrated and overwhelmed.
He's always been avoiding this confrontation.
"I never asked you to be my girlfriend— you're the one who decided to stick around after that night.."
You went completely still, and so did he.
He never expected himself to say something this harsh to you.
He knew he crossed the line, even if he didn't want to, even if he didn't mean those words.
But the look on your face now hurt him, because he knew what it meant.
He changed his posture, no longer learning against the wall, no longer crossing his arms as if his body screamed at him to reach out to you, but he didn't.
You were just smiling.
"Right" you laughed softly, "I decided to stay. My bad"
You took a step back and his heart dropped.
" Y-you're just overthinking it again" he said trying fix thing but only making it worse.
"No.. no. It's fine" you smiled, and it killed him, "I'm finally thinking straight"
A sharp jolt coursed through him, he knew behind that smile is a serious decision.
"What are you talk–" but you cut him off.
"We're done, Toji.. Oh wait we weren't even anything in the first place, just fuck buddies" you let out a dry chuckle.
Your words landed heavy and thick, striking him directly.
His eyes widened, just staring at you as you walked away.
"Good luck— with your miserable life" you added and it hit him hard.
Toji stood there frozen, thoughts rushing in his head, drowning in the consequences of his own neglect and carelessness.
"I'm not done speaking with you" he called after you, but you ignored him.
And here he feels it again; the emptiness. Just like before you cane to his life.
The feeling of losing someone all over again.
ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ : ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ.
It's been hours since Megumi had left the house.
Your phone screen lit up over and over again with your own attempts to reach him.
But only for you to be met with missed calls and unanswered texts.
Each one made your heart tighten a little more.
You know Megumi, this isn't random.
Something is wrong, something upset him enough to leave without a word.
He's always been like that, whenever he has a problem he disappears to cool off, to deal with his own shit without including you.
And that's what hurts you the most, because he didn't come to you.
You've been friends for so long, and now been dating a few months, so he had plenty of time to try and trust you with his problems.
You sat there waiting. At first patient, the restless, then full on anxious.
Every small noise outside made your head snap up.
You replayed everything from earlier in your head over and over again.
The way he avoided your eyes, his cold expression, his tone when he said "I'm fine" .
You knew he was a tough cookie but you're his girlfriend, the one special person in his life, the one to be with in both good and bad.
But Megumi didn't give you the chance to.
He was just closed off as ever.
Carrying everything alone as if you were never there for him.
Bottling up his emotions until it poisons him from the inside and ends up poisoning your relationship too.
And no matter how many times you've told him "You can talk to me" , he never really does.
The door finally opened and Megumi walked inside.
You were overwhelmed with relief when he first stepped in, but then, it was quickly replaced by frustration and hurt after hours being sidelined.
"Where were you?" you asked, voice tight, crossing your arms.
Megumi paused for a second as he took off his jacket, "Out" .
That's it, that's all you got.
Something in you snapped, "Right. Out... And ignoring me is part of being out, huh?".
He just stared at you with a blank expression and it drove you crazy.
"Megumi I'd been calling you for hours, you have no idea how worried I was".
He shrugged it off like it's nothing, "My phone was on silent" .
What a stupid excuse.
You scoffed, "Oh so basically if I didn't check up on you then I'll just sit here ignored for hours?"
He exhaled clearly not in the mood for an argument, "I didn't think it was a big deal"
And that does it, because it was a hell of a big deal.
"Of course you don't" your words slipped out quieter but sharper.
He frowned slightly, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's means you're clearly having a problem, but chose to disappear for hours, shut me out, and then come back, stand here and act like I'm overreacting"
His expression hardened as he spoke in a defensive tone, "I'm not shutting you out"
"Then what are you doing? What do you call this?" you spat, "Because honestly, it doesn't feel like you trust me at all"
The word Trust, it hit a nerve.
"I do trust you" he said firmly, "I just don't need to talk about everything"
You stared at him, you could feel your hands shake, "Oh but I need to?"
The room went quiet as he waited for you to finish your sentence.
"When I'm upset" you continued, "You ask me to open up. You expect me to be vulnerable. You tell me that it's a safe space to vent, to share"
He didn't interrupt, he just listened.
"So why is it different for you? Why is it a safe space for me but not for you, Megumi?"
His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed, he really wanted to stop this conversation before it escalates.
"Because I don't want to drag you into my problems"
"I'm already in them, Megumi" you cut in, "The moment you walk out that door whenever you're upset and make me wait for hours without a single explanation, I was already in them"
You can see it in the way his gaze shifted, the faint crack in his composure, yet he didn't admit it, didn't step forward.
"So tell me, what's wrong?" you asked anyway.
He hesitated, his chest tightened at the way you stood there in front of him fidgeting with tour fingers waiting for him to open up.
But he couldn't, "I said— I'm fine" he insisted, just like always.
Megumi never says what he really feels and it frustrated you, to keep on guessing and analyzing everything on your own. Solving him like a riddle.
"NO YOU'RE NOT" you snapped, but he didn't flinch.
"Yn I don't have to report everything to you"
His words hit like a slap.
Because you tell him everything. So that feeling of the trust being one-sided hurts you.
"I never said you have to" you whispered, swallowing back the lump forming in your throat.
"Then stop acting like I did something wrong"
"You did. And the problem is that you don't bother noticing" you replied.
He exhaled sharply, "I don't see why you had to turn this into a fight"
You let out a humourless laugh, "So it's my fault now? Me voicing my feelings on how my boyfriend isn't give me the chance to be there for him when he's upset is what started this fight and not you and your audacity to push me away?"
His patience snapped and he raised his voice, "Not everything is about you. You don't have to be included in every aspect of my life"
The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them.
But it was too late, the damage was already done.
You froze, because that was never your intention.
All what you wanted to do is to be there for him, to comfort him.
But vulnerability doesn't come easy to Megumi.
Your face immediately changed, "..Wow"
That's all what you said just 'wow' , no anger, no yelling, just disappointment.
And somehow it was worse. Way worse.
Megumi finally took a step forward, "That's not what I meant–"
"No" you shook your head, "I think it is"
He reached for you, then he let his hand fall and of course you noticed.
"You know what" you said but quickly stopped yourself, you let out a sigh instead, "forget it.."
You were so hurt and so done with him and his coldness.
"Wait.. Yn" he said quickly, frustration mixing with panic.
"I'm done talking Megumi. I'm so fucking done with you" you replied not looking at him as you walked back to your room.
"You don't mean that" he said but you didn't answer, you just kept walking.
Megumi stood there, fists clenched, emotions tangled in ways be doesn't know how to express.
Now he desperately wanted to finish this argument.
Because fighting seemed less terrifying than you giving him the silent treatment.
But pride and fear wrapped around his throat and kept him silent.
Yet this time your silence matched his.
And now the house felt too cold, too empty.
And for the first time Megumi realized how being shut off truly feels.
ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ ʜɪʀᴏᴍɪ : ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴ-ᴏꜰꜰɪᴄᴇ ᴛʀɪᴀʟ
You weren't planning to start an argument that evening, you simply passed by his office after work so you can go home together.
You didn't knock, you knew he had no meeting at that time so you just opened the door and got inside.
And again, she was there, his assistant.
She wasn't at her desk doing whatever tasks she has.
She was standing a little too close to him, showing him a file.
You could feel anger already building, but you didn't react just yet.
You cleared your throat and both of them looked up at you, finally noticing you standing there.
"Oh" she started, "I didn't realize you had company".
The way she said it, it made your blood boil, referring to you like you were nobody and not his wife.
"I came to pick you up– Hiromi" you said, voice steady.
Your husband nodded slightly, "Yes, I'll be done shortly"
You sat down watching.
Yet she didn't leave, she simply had no shame.
You've been noticing this for a while now, whenever you passed by his office, whenever the two of you talked on the phone, she was always there, trying to push your buttons, to cross the boundaries, to steal Hiromi from you.
The way she laughs at things that weren't even funny.
The way her hand brushes his arms like it's accidental.
The way she shamelessly stares at him even if you were there
And the worst part?
Hiruguma is being oblivious.
You didn't bring it up before because for both of you trust is everything.
But you trust him, not her.
So every time you wait for him to notice that's she's clearly flirting with him, to notice that it's bothering you.
And as your husband, he must do or say something about it.
But he didn't.
And this time you stated to doubt it. If he's genuinely oblivious or he knows but secretly enjoying it.
"You're overworking again, Higuruma-san" she said with a whiny voice.
He didn't respond right away, he just kept checking the document in his hand, "Tomorrow arrange another meeting please" he said.
"Oh absolutely" she smiled, "Let me help you" she added as she reached for his coat draped over the chair.
Your heart jumped to your throat. You can feel your stomach twisting.
You didn't say anything, you just observed his reaction, but he didn't seem to care, he just took his coat and adjusted his sleeves.
"Good night, Higuruma-san" she smiled, completely ignoring your presence, then she left.
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding the whole time watching them like some boss/assistance romance movie.
He gathered his things and said, "Let's go"
But you didn't move an inch, it was the best time to finally stop holding it, put all that trust aside and let your feelings out.
"Can we talk about your assistant?" you started.
"What about her?" he asked confused.
"She's being inappropriate"
He frowned slightly, "In what sense?"
His question itself irritated you.
"She's flirting with you, she's crossing limits" you said through gritted teeth.
He exhaled softly, "I think you're misinterpreting her behavior"
"What? I'm not misinterpreting anything, Hiromi" you answered, tone sharper than before.
He sat down now, giving you his full attention, "Okay. Then provide an example"
You stared at him in disbelief, "...Are you serious right now?"
And he nodded calmly, "Yeah, if you're making a claim then it should be supported"
You felt like air got knocked out of your lungs, because it didn't feel like a conversation anymore. It felt like a cross-examination.
"I'm not in court, Hiromi" you laughed under your breath.
"Still you're making an accusation" he shrugged.
Your frustration spiked, "Oh my god, quit using that courtroom tone with me, I'm your wife. Besides this isn't about evidence, it's about how I feel!!"
"Feelings can be misleading Yn"
And that, hurt more than it should.
"So now my feelings aren't valid?" you asked.
"I didn't say that so don't twist my words"
"But you implied it, Hiromi".
"I simply questioned your interpretation"
The way he was so calm about the whole situation made it worse for you.
"You're doing it again" you shook your head in disbelief.
"Doing what, hm?"
"Turning everything into a case to win instead of just listening to me!"
"I am listening—" he replied, "I just don't agree with your conclusion".
You laughed, "Of course you don't. So I just woke up today and decided to imagine things huh?"
Silence hung heavily between you as you paced in his office.
"Do you even care that this bothers me?"
"I care" he stated.
"Then why on earth does it feel like you're defending her instead of setting boundaries?"
His expression tightened as he ran a hand on his face, "I'm not defending her. I'm simply correcting what I believe is a flawed assumption"
"Flawed?" you repeated.
"Yes"
Your muscles twitched, "Are you really that dense, or you're just simply playing dumb because you enjoy the way she's pampering you huh?"
He froze, "That's a serious accusation Yn"
"Accusation my ass, Hiromi. She's clearly into you, it's been weeks, and she's always flirting, staring at you like you're the only man on earth"
"You know she's only my assistant, right? Besides she's competent and that's the only thing I care about"
"So you don't care about my discomfort?"
"That's not what I said"
"But that's exactly what it meant" your voice rose now, "I was standing here like an idiot and you just didn't stop her"
His tone sharpened slightly, "Because there was nothing to stop"
"THERE WAS FOR ME" you shouted.
Silence took over the office after you yelled at him.
"You could've said something, did something. But you just don't care enough to set some simple boundaries" you added.
His expression tightened, "That's an unfair conclusion"
"Is it?" you pressed, "Because from where I'm standing it's either you're a careless husband or enjoy being desired" .
He stood up in defense as he walked towards you, his body towering over you, "Do you hear yourself right now?"
"Yes. Loud and clear" you replied not breaking eye contact with him.
"Then we will talk about this again when we get home"
"No" you refused casually.
"No?" he frowned.
"I'm not doing this with you anymore.. I'm not going to repeat myself and try to prove my point —" you said, "And honestly the fact that you you're literally debating me in this instead of being considerate, tells me everything I needed to know" you added and walked towards the door.
He paused, "Wait what?" he grabbed your wrist.
"It's been weeks with this situation, swallowing it back, telling myself that trust is everything.. but things gor out of hands" you explained coldly as your yanked your wrist from his grip, "If this is how it is, then I don't think we're right for each other anymore"
His heart sank deep in his chest, and for the first time Hiromi Higuruma stutters, "Y–you want ...a d-divorce?"
ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ : ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴜꜱ
You sat at the dining table, staring at the dinner you had prepared with love and care.
The candles had burned low, the food had grown cold.
You didn't feel sad, you just felt painfully, embarrassingly small in your own skin.
Kento promised to get home early, but like everytime, work kept dragging him into overtime.
Being a jujutsu sorcerer is a heavy responsibility that he values, and you know that, but being committed to a marriage is just as important.
You grabbed your phone, thinking about calling him but you stopped yourself.
Instead, you scoffed and threw your phone somewhere on the couch.
You were fed up, sick of always being the one waiting, always the one making time, always the one in need of him.
So you started eating, everything on that table.
You ate your plate, his plate. Devouring every bite angrily.
You didn't care you were full and almost sick, so you finished off the dessert as well.
After finishing, you slammed the empty plates in the floor, toppling the flower vase as well.
"Ain't washing no stupid dishes"
You were too full of food to do anything else, so you went to your room, still wearing the dress he likes so much and threw yourself on the bed, crying your eyes out to sleep.
Nanami finally came home, exhausted.
His heartbeat quickened when he saw the broken plates, the ruined flowers and the burned candles.
Seeing that mess, he thought someone broke into the house.
He strode through the house to find you, and relief washed over him when he saw you on the bed asleep, safe and sound.
But that relief vanished instantly when he realized that the broken plates and tossed flowers were because you were angry at him for being late again.
But this time, he knew your reaction wasn't like before when he overworked .. this time you were furious with him.
You were curled up, hair tangled still in your dress.
Seeing you like this pierced him, he hates that you went to bed upset.
That he didn't come home early enough to apologize and to comfort you.
He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, then he slowly sat on the edge of the bed.
His hand moved gently over your arm, then your back.
His fingers brushed your hair to sooth you more into sleep but his touch pulled you from your slumber.
Your body tensed up as you woke up, startled.
He stilled immediately, his voice soft as he spoke trying to ground you, "It's me..love. It's just me".
He tried to caress your arm again, "Are you okay?"
But you pushed his hand away, glaring at him. And he knew he were in deep shit.
"I.. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept you waiting" he started.
"Stop" you immediately snapped, voice still low but sharp, "Just.. stop. Don't even start with that".
He just stared at you, hus heart breaking into a million pieces.
He didn't dare say anything, he wanted you to let everything out.
You continued, voice cracking between hurt and anger, "I waited for you! I prepared a romantic dinner for us! Candles, flowers" you scoffed, "All that cheesy bullshit.. all for you.. and you? Didn't even bother show up, again!"
Nanami looked down, he felt too ashamed, "I know, love.. and I truly appreciate —"
"No. Don't lie, you're not appreciating anything I do, Kento" you cut in angrily, "Do you know how it feels, sitting there like an idiot, staring at an empty chair every night, hoping that my husband would show up?"
He looked up at you and he was met with pure rage.
Your eyes didn't carry any softness in them, "But of course you don't know how it feels because I've never made you wait. I've always been available".
His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense but he spoke gently, "I know.. you're always there for me.."
You let out a humourless laugh, "Of course you do know that, and that's exactly why you took it for granted... Oh she's always there for me, I'm sure doesn't mind waiting a little longer... oh I'm sure she would understand if I broke a fucking promise... That's what you know, huh?"
You paused, exhaling sharply then added, "But I'm so done being taken for granted"
Guilt etched on his face as he ran a hand through his hair, "I know love. I know I messed up really bad. I've been selfish and I hate I made you feel sad"
You scoffed, "Sad? I'm not sad anymore. I'm feeling embarrassed and pathetic"
That word Pathetic made his breath hitch.
"Pathetic for always being the one who asks, who calls, who waits, the one who wants to spend time together, the one who's always making effort that shouldn't have been one-sided" you continued as you counted then on your fingers, "You have no idea how much I hate myself for it"
Nanami was now at a loss of words, "I'm truly sorry.. love—"
"Stop saying sorry" you shouted, "I'm sick of hearing it everytime. You really think that word would fix everything?".
It was the first time Nanami sees this side of you. No softness, no smiles, just straight up yelling at his face.
It shocked him to the core.
"I understand, and I will do better. I promise you" he said desperately as he took an hesitant step toward you, "I'll be here, I'll make time. I don't want you to feel this alone again"
You shook your head, "Promises don't mean a damn thing to me anymore. You can't just throw around promises you won't keep"
The tension in the room felt so heavy.
Nanami looked at you with broken eyes, desperate to make it right.
And now, you felt it creeping up, the heat on the back of your neck, your heartbeat went crazy as your breath ragged and stomach twisted violently.
You stopped, steadying yourself.
"Love?" said Nanami frowning as your expression changed.
Nausea churned through you and your face went pale.
Without a word, you rushed past Kento who looked alarmed.
You sprinted towards the bathroom clutching your stomach as you felt the urgent need to vomit.
He quickly followed behind you, worry written all over his face.
His heart was pounding, if you were sick because if him, he knew he's never forgive himself.
ʜᴀᴋᴀʀɪ ᴋɪɴᴊɪ : ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ, ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ.
You and Hakari finally found time doe each other, no missions, no stress, no nothing.
Both of you were on the couch.
Your legs stretched across his lap as you scrolled through your phone trying to pick a good place for your date night.
Hakari was leaning back into the cushions, one hand on your feet, and the other holding his phone as he played a game.
"Okay.. this one is cute, but it's a bit far" you said and tilted your phone slightly toward him to see.
He glanced over your screen, "Mm.. not really my vibe—but I'll go wherever you choose"
You smiled a little at that, "You're no help at all, but okay"
He let out a short laugh, his eyes still glued on his phone.
Your legs shifted slightly on his lap, "Oh wait! There's is this rooftop place.. This looks really nice actually, it has thay city view at night. I'm sure you'd like this one"
You glanced up, showing him the picture , excitedly anticipating his reaction.
"Oh I know this rooftop place, I used to go there with her all the time" he said casually and you froze.
You clutched your phone in your hand, and said calmly, "Why do you always do that?".
"Hm? Do what?" he asked still focused on his phone.
"Find a way to bring her up everytime"
Now he finally glanced at you, "I didn't –"
"Yes you did" you cut in.
You sat up slightly, pulling your legs from his lap to create some distance.
"I'm just saying that we went there multiple times before.. no big deal"
"No big deal?" you said your eyes widening at his audacity, "I've been trying for hours to pick a nice place, thinking about our date and all you can think about is her?"
His hand tightened around his phone, "You know I didn't mean it like that!!"
You fully stood up now, "This isn't the first time you've brought your ex up, Kinji. So how the fuck am I supposed to know what you truly mean?".
Hakari's patience was running low, "And what if I brought her up? It's not like I'm still in love with her"
The tension thickened as you clenched your fists and said, "I get it Kinji, you broke up but still maintained a good friendship and you know very well I respect your friends, but I believe you should respect our relationship in return"
"So that's what you think? That I don't respect you?" he asked, eyebrows knitting together.
"You've been on your phone the whole time texting or playing games while I've been planning our date. And you didn't bother contribute with any ideas as if you didn't care at all if we went out together or not"
"Aha!!! Here we go again with making me look like the bad, terrible and trashy boyfriend, huh?" he snapped.
"What? Am I lying? You've been just humming while I spoke and the moment you chose to say something you mentioned her" you snapped back.
"You're just overly jealous, Yn. You're not thinking straight"
"Jealous?" you let out a dry laugh, "Nah babe, I just don't tolerate disrespect".
"You'd be calling everything I do disrespect, Yn" he raised his voice.
As you were about to answer him, his phone screen lit up.
He paused as he brought the phone up to check the notifications he received.
You can't deny it, it pissed you off.
You were in the middle of an important conversation and he had the audacity to check his phone.
You huffed in frustration as you snatched his phone from his grip.
You were about to throw it in the couch so you can finish this argument, but stopped, eyes widening when you saw her name.
"Yn give it back" he said.
You can feel your guts twisting as your eyes scanned the open chat on his screen, "You're texting her?"
"It's not what it looks like, Yn , so don't jump to conclusions" he explained.
"So what does it look like?" you said as you scrolled further into their messages, "Having fun sending each other reels and memes hm? That's why you're eyes are always glued to your phone?" you said through gritted teeth.
He tried to rake it again, "Give me the damn phone, Yn for god's sake"
"Why? Are you hiding something? Is there anything else you're sending each other beside these? Nudes perhaps? or confessing how much you missed each other?"
His patience fully snapped, "Oh give me a fucking break!! I'm not hiding shit, am I not allowed to be friends with an ex?"
You yelled back as you threw the phone on his face and he groaned, "Bullshit! You're enjoying your time texting her while I sat there planning a date you don't give a fuck about"
"I do give a fuck about everything you do, Yn—"
You stepped forward, eyes blazing, "I'm so done with you. I don't even know why I've been so patient with you all this time when I clearly deserve better that being your second choice!!"
You walked past him, but he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back to where you were standing, "You're just assuming things, Yn!"
At this point you were raging, "I can befriend my ex, text him all the time and let's see what you'd assume!"
"I wouldn't assume anything because I trust you!" he said.
"You're lying! you're just trying to make me feel bad for not trusting you. But lemme clarify this, you broke that trust Kin, so it's not on me".
He only stared at you, not knowing what to say anymore.
But you continued, "Oh and if you're that crazy about your ex then go ahead and run back to her. You're a free man now"
You grabbed your bag and strode towards the front door.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked heart thumping in his chest.
You stopped mid-step and looked at him over your shoulder, "It means I'm breaking up with you".
Hakari stood there, speechless as you slammed the door behind, leaving him there.
ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ : ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢᴇꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴏꜱᴇ.
You had just come back home from a mission, a rough one.
Not an easy curse but a nasty special grade, yet you handled it by yourself.
You were bruised and beyond exhausted but above all you were proud.
All what you wanted to do, is take a refreshing shower, maybe your boyfriend Satoru could join and then cuddle the whole night.
But somehow, men always find a way to ruin things.
You found Satoru sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
"I'm back!!" you announced your presence with a smile.
He quickly looked up, "Hi baby—oh, you look roughed up, did you take a beating?"
You took off your shoes, "Nah, just a nasty special grade"
He smiled, "Oh well I'm glad you managed to come back alive"
You paused mid-move, "What did you just say?"
"I said, I'm glad you're alive babe" he grinned.
"Why? You thought I wouldn't handle it alone?" you feeling a bit affected by his comment.
"Alone? No way! I thought you were with the others" He leaned back, "I guess you got lucky".
You can feel the humiliation run through you, "I didn't get lucky, it was all my own effort"
He chuckled, "Cute"
And you genuinely didn't know if he was just teasing you or being for real.
"..cute?" you repeated, fingers tightening slightly against your sleeve.
He smiled, "Yeah.. you're improving!"
Improving, that hit hard.
You laughed dryly, "I exorcised a strong special grade on my own and—"
"And you survived. Good job" he cut in winking.
That tone. Like he's praising a child, like he's underestimating you.
Your chest tightened, "Don't talk to me like that. I'm not one of your students, Satoru"
"Relax! Then what exactly you want me to say? I said you're improving, you have less bruises than last mission—"
You scoffed in disbelief, "Are you serious? I don't need you to evaluate me, Satoru"
He shrugged, "I'm not evaluating you, Yn. I'm just stating the obvious"
"The obvious is that I'm doing my job well as a sorcerer"
"Well if I were you.. I wouldn't be so sure" he tilted his head slightly, "I could wipe out ten of special grades without breaking a sweat"
You just stared at him in shock, ".. why does everything has to be compared to you?"
He blinked as if your question didn't make sense, "Because I'm the standard??"
The way he said so casually pissed you off even more.
"No.. you're not. Not everything revolves around you, Satoru!"
He brought his hands up, "Hey hey, I didn't say that"
You let out a sharp breath, "You don't have to. You act like it".
He stood up now, clearly irritated, "You're taking this way too personally, Yn"
You laughed, "Because it is personal"
You stepped closer as you continued, "Everytime I do something you reduce it to nothing, just because you can do it better".
"Maybe because I'm the strongest? But that doesn't mean I'm belittling you!"
"Do you even hear yourself, Satoru?" you snapped.
"I'm being realistic, Yn!"
You shook your head, anger rising faster now, "No, you're being arrogant!"
He exhaled, "I don't understand why you came home and immediately started picking up fights"
"Maybe because you're making everything about you! We're not competing Satoru, we're in love!" you shouted, "But your ego is always in the way, isn't it, even with me.. And it's making you disrespectful and offensive"
His expression hardened, "I do respect you!"
"Then stop treating me like I'm beneath you"
He instantly snapped back, "Then stop being insecure because I'm stronger and accept it like everyone else already"
You gasped softly.
The moment those words left his lips he wanted to swallow them back.
He regretted each and every word.
He knew he went too far, he was just frustrated.
And when Gojo Satoru is frustrated, he tends to hurt people around him.
Your eyes were glassy, but you didn't cry.
"Baby..I ..." he stepped forward, his arm extending toward you.
But you took a step back, not flinching away, just no wanting him near you.
Your eyes burned through him and a chill ran down his spine.
You quickly started putting your shoes back again, and he tried to stop you, but you glared at him, "Don't. Don't you dare Satoru"
"Baby I didn't —" his eyes softened, but it was too late.
"You're so used to being the strongest" your voice dropped, "You forgot how to stand next to someone instead of above them... I pity you"
And that right there, hit him harder than any insult.
You didn't wait for him to say anything back, you just slammed the door and left.
He wanted to move, to stop you and solve all this, but his legs wouldn't let him.
He was struck by what you said and he stood there reflecting.
Satoru was scared, terrified of losing you and of the loneliness he's been hiding behind his strength.
ʏᴜᴛᴀ ᴏᴋᴋᴏᴛꜱᴜ : ꜱᴇʟꜰʟᴇꜱꜱ ʏᴇᴛ ꜱᴇʟꜰɪꜱʜ
You didn't hear it from him, you heard it from someone else.
And that what made it worse.
The mission, the plan, the risks.
He might not come back alive.
You might lose him forever.
When you finally found him, he was too calm.
Sitting there like it's just another day.
Like he didn't agree to something that could end his life .
You were out of breath as you were running fast to find him.
When he looked up and his eyes met yours, he knew.
"Is it true?" you asked.
He just looked down, didn't answer but didn't deny it either.
Your chest tightened as you let out a shaky breath, "So it's true!"
He stood slowly, and took your hands in his gently, "I promise it's not as bad as it sounds—" he tried to comfort you.
You yanked your hands away, "Not as bad?" you cut him off, voice already shaking, "You agreed to a plan where you might die, Yuta!"
He exhaled, "I have to do it so no one else gets hurt"
"And what about you?" you asked.
He didn't answer right away, because to him, his safety wasn't the priority.
You let out a broken laugh, "Right. Of course you didn't think about yourself, because you always put others first"
"Love please.. I need you to understand me!" he started, eyes soft.
"Understand what?" you snapped, "That's you're willing to die? That's you're willing to leave me? To abandon what we have?"
He took a step forward, cupping your cheek, "Love that's not what I meant—"
"Then what did you mean? because from where I'm standing, it's like you're completely fine with dying as long as everyone else gets to live!" your voice rose, your emotions spilling all over the place.
"Sweetheart please.." he begged.
"Did you even think about me? about us?" your voice cracking.
He stared at you lovingly, his thumbs caressing your skin, and you involuntary leaned into his touch, "Of course I did.."
"Not enough" you shook your head, "Not enough to stop, to refuse throwing yourself in death's grasp"
That landed harder than expected.
"Please understand me, Yn.. you'd be safe—"
But you cut him off again with a scoff, a tear rolling down your cheek, "Safe?" you repeated, "You think that's what I care about? I don't care about being safe if you're gone, Yuta"
Silence crashed down, that comforting smile he was trying to maintain finally dropped.
"I can see it in your eyes, Yuta, you've already accepted the possibility if not making it out alive" your voice trembled, "And it's killing me already"
He was silent the whole time, heart shattering as he listened to you.
"You're being selfless to everyone but selfish to me" you expressed.
Yuta stopped in his tracks. Your words landed so deeply it felt like it went straight through him and stayed there.
But you continued, desperate to make him change his mind, "So you didn't think of a future with me? Am I that unimportant to you to leave behind?"
His breath hitched, "What? Love, of course I did. I always do. I've thought about a lifetime with you! Us getting married and being a family.."
You sniffled, "Then act like it. Act like you really want it to happen, because all what we dreamt of wouldn't be possible of you chose that risky mission over being with me"
He paused, and he realized that he's now in-between; choose the mission but guarantee a peaceful world or choose you and let the chaos take over.
"Don't go... please" you begged whispering, eyes full of tears and it broke him to see you like that.
He swallowed hard, hands shaking, he wanted to say a lot of things but words wouldn't come out.
"So you already took the decision, huh?" you asked.
You didn't wait. You were about to break down in tears so you left running.
"Love wait.. please" he called after you.
Yuta clutched his heart, he was hurting as well.
His eyes started watering, he was stuck in that dilemma, torn between two choices.
( 18+ mdni ) frat!sukuna breaks the only rule he cared about: don’t catch feelings.
fratboy!sukuna who notoriously doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. everyone knows he’s trouble— tattoos crawling up his arms, that sharp tongue dripping with sarcasm and filth. everyone adores him just as much as they loathe him. it’s sukuna, for fuck’s sake. the unpredictable, sharp-edged party boy who lives in constant chaos. girls rotate through his bedroom like clockwork, only for him to discard them the moment he’s done. he doesn’t text back, doesn’t offer breakfast the morning after, and never promises shit, but that’s fine, because everyone knows where they stand with him. sukuna doesn’t do strings. he doesn’t do relationships. but he definitely does dares.
fratboy!sukuna who sits sprawled out on the dingy leather couch in the middle of another friday night dorm party, ignoring the blaring music and cheap vodka in someone’s hand. the conversation has turned into a game, one of his frat brothers leaning back with a shit-eating grin and that look that screams, it's your turn. “i’ve got one for you, sukuna,” one of the others slurs, leaning close and pointing across the room. “see that girl? nerdy little thing, y/n. bet you couldn’t pull her.”
sukuna’s eyes flick lazily to you, tucked in the corner. you’re chatting it up with one of your friends, wearing those little wire-rimmed glasses that make you look harmless, a sweatshirt pulled snug over your frame like you're hiding yourself from the party. you don’t belong here. and that’s exactly why the dare piques his interest.
“i could pull anyone,” sukuna scoffs, grinning slow, sharp, and smug. “but, sure. why not?” he doesn’t even think twice about it. it’s just a game. always has been. he strides over to you like he owns the room, all confidence and heat, sliding himself into your conversation without hesitation. that cocky smile is burned into your memory by the time the night is over.
fratboy!sukuna who wasn’t expecting you to be so fucking pretty up close. when you finally tilt your head up to look at him, his world stutters for half a second. you’re biting your lip nervously, adjusting your glasses, and your voice is sweeter than he expected when you mutter, “do you... uh, need something?” pretty. soft. so completely opposite everything he’s ever gone for before. something about it makes his chest tighten in a way he doesn’t like or understand, but still, sukuna pushes deeper— complimenting your smile, teasing you subtly until you flush, and offering to walk you out when the party dies down. you let him, much to his surprise.
but at first? it’s just harmless fun. he wasn’t expecting to fuck you right away— thought you’d be one of those ‘pure’ types, the ones that get all flustered if someone stares too long at their lips. but you surprise him almost immediately. when he leans in closer and murmurs, “you seem tense, sweetheart. never had a guy flirt with you before?” you blink up at him, smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, and say, “not like you.” it’s enough to make his cock twitch in his jeans before you excuse yourself with a cute little “goodnight,” leaving sukuna more frustrated than he’s been in a loooong time.
fratboy!sukuna who starts bumping into you more often after that night. in class. at the library. in the quad. it shouldn’t mean anything, but everytime he runs into you, there you are— dressed modestly but with this soft, natural kind of beauty that drives him insane. your hair always smells sweet, and when you look up from your books and push your glasses up the bridge of your nose, it fucking wrecks him. he turns it into a game; teasing you relentlessly, taking the empty seat next to you in lectures just to mutter filthy things under his breath that make your cheeks heat up, watching out of the corner of his eye as your thighs subtly clench. sukuna can tell you don’t play games like this, and that’s why it’s so fun for him.
fratboy!sukuna who decides to make a move during yet another party. you don’t go often, but this time sukuna had a hand in convincing you to show up. tossing careless words your way all week, like, “i don’t get why you hide all the time. bet they’ve never seen you in a dress,” followed by a wink. to his surprise, you actually show up— looking fucking gorgeous, no less. your usual baggy sweatshirt gone in favor of a tight little dress that hugs your curves. he wasn’t supposed to react to this, wasn’t supposed to notice how good you look, but fuck, now his mouth is dry, and he wants you bad.
it starts with small talk, heated glances, subtle touches— his fingers brushing the back of your thigh when no one’s watching, the deep rasp in his voice when he leans in close and murmurs, “you’re gonna ruin me tonight.” you giggle nervously, but he sees the way your eyes light up. like you can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him.
fratboy!sukuna who ends up with you pinned against the wall of his room an hour later, tearing that tight little dress straight off your body. the whole night had led to this— him pushing boundaries, you not stopping him— and now, sukuna admits, you’re better than any fuck he’s imagined. he’s fucking obsessed already. you’re shaking, clinging to his shoulders, your soft moans muffled against his neck as he whispers filthy shit into your ear, voice dipping low like gravel. “knew you’d be fucking sweet, baby. that tight little pussy just begging for me to ruin it.” he lifts you easily, shameless about the way he palms your ass roughly, swirling his thick cock around your entrance before thrusting in completely.
you cry out as he stretches you, and sukuna loses his mind with how tight and wet you feel. he rams into you relentlessly, sweat dripping from his forehead as he fists the back of your hair, tilting your head to force you to look at him. “see that, sweetheart? look at yourself. cockdrunk already, yeah? can’t take your eyes off me, huh?” his grin spreads wider as the tears stream down your cheeks, overwhelmed sobs escaping your lips as your body trembles with every brutal thrust. he knows it’s nasty. he knows he’s going too far, sucking marks into your neck, positioning you how he wants, legs thrown high over his shoulders so he can jackhammer into you, then face down on the mattress so he can admire the pretty way you arch your back for him.
fratboy!sukuna who falls harder than he ever thought he could. it’s not just about fucking anymore— the way you unravel under his touch, the soft, nervous laugh you make when he teases you about being a little nerd, the way you whisper “missed you” everytime he leave— it leaves an ache in his chest, one that spreads further every time he sees you. he wasn’t supposed to like you. you were a fucking dare. but now, you giggle and ramble about some book you love after he’s fucked you raw, completely naked in his lap as you tuck your face under his chin, and sukuna realizes he doesn’t want anyone else in the room except you.
fratboy!sukuna who’s falling, and you notice. you see the change in how he touches you— his hands lingering longer on the curve of your back, the soft way he tucks your hair behind your ear. it terrifies you because for as much as he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the room, you know what he is. you know every girl he’s fucked, every name he’s probably forgotten. men like sukuna don’t fall. they don’t change. he can’t love you— not someone like him.
but then he fucks up. after sneaking you out of his room following another sleepover, one of his frat brothers makes a comment when you pass. “finally bagged her, huh, sukuna?” his friend grins, smug as ever, not noticing the storm brewing in sukuna’s sharp glare. “always knew you’d win the da—” the word doesn’t finish before sukuna slams him against the wall, snarling something about shutting the fuck up and staying in his lane. you freeze. the dare. you weren’t stupid— you put it all together as all the pieces fell into place, and the betrayal sinks deep into your chest.
“what dare?” you ask quietly when sukuna catches up to you afterward, his favorite cocky mask faltering. “tell me, sukuna. was i just some bet to you?”
and the thing is— he wants to deny it. to explain that he didn’t think you’d matter to him, to admit you were supposed to be nothing... but then somehow became everything. but he can’t form the words, and you’re already pulling away.
fratboy!sukuna who doesn’t know how to fix it. he doesn’t know how to look you in the eyes and admit, i fucked up. i fucked up, but i’m in love with you. and now you're gone, just like that, leaving him empty in a way he’s never felt before. of all the shit he’s landed himself in, none of it compares to the ache of knowing he lost you, the one girl he never intended to care about in the first place. you were supposed to be a game. why does it feel like his whole world just shattered?
fratboy!sukuna who hates himself, realizing too late that he never gave a fuck about the dare— that the first time you smiled at him, he was already yours. but now? now he’s sitting alone on that same couch with his cock in his hand, scrolling through blurry photos of you, drunk and desperate because no matter who he tries to touch now, nothing feels like you. maybe he fucking deserves it…
You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.
pairings - Nepo baby! Gojo x Reader x Boxer! Sukuna
warnings!!! - dear god lol - first time blow jobs, threesome (m/f/m) eifel tower, possessive Sukuna, desperate and pathetic Satoru, swallowing, oral (f and m receiving) p in v sex, degradation, praise, (they love to make reader cry and ruin her pussy tbh) cumplay, rough sex, choking, angst, basically the messiest chap EVER and this one leans towards Satoru (Sukuna's was last chap lol) - 12.1k (god lol)
As always this will have 3 endings - i'll repeat again if anyone reads authors notes - three endings! One Poly, One Gojo, One Sukuna. Poly end will be first.
<<<part five - masterlist - playlist - part seven
part six
𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆
“Then open that pretty mouth.”
You obediently do just that – open your mouth for him, as his mind rushes and whirls with thoughts – you clearly have feelings for that fuck, and he won’t fault you for it, he wants all of you. Even the part that cares for a dumb, gaslighting little white haired fuck who just looked at you like he couldn’t imagine anything better than drinking Sukuna’s cum from your pussy.
His hands entangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, you damn near have cute little hearts in your eyes when he takes his tip, smearing a bead of precum right along your lips like a gloss. He exhales and then lets the heavy weight of his reddened tip glide on your tongue, the taste making you swallow and moan around him.
“Take as much as you can, pretty lil brat,” he whispers, moaning when you start bobbing up and down his veiny length, you’re so damn pretty like this, obedient like always, your nails pressing into his thighs. “Sucking me first, hmm? Me?”
“Mmm,” your answer is a soft moan that makes your throat flutter around him, tears pricking your pretty eyes and glimmering off your cheeks, sniffling as he keeps fucking into your throat deeper. “Mhmm…”
“That’s it, fuckin’ so proud of you,” he can tell you’re dying over the praise – you deserve that and more. “Always listenin’ s’fuckin’ well. Hah – there you go, just like that… fuck…”
You try to take more of him, your enthusiasm outpacing your skill, and you gag around him, throat constricting, your eyes watering instantly. A thick, messy string of drool slips from the corner of your mouth, dripping down onto his veiny shaft, even onto your little hand where it rests on his thigh.
You pull back and start coughing, your face flushed so cute, he can see you’re embarrassed, chuckling softly at you. “I’m sorry… I um…”
“You were taking too much too fast,” you blush so hot he feels it burning when he touches your cheek, you kiss his tip, a thick string of saliva connecting your swollen, glistening lips to his reddened tip. “You need to breathe through your nose and ease into it, my cock isn’t fucking going anywhere.”
“It’s not?” You tease, lips twitching at the corners, Sukuna loves the fact that you’re in here with him, he knows Satoru was trying and that you let him taste you, but you’re here.
On your knees.
Obediently waiting for his directions, for him to show you everything – no matter what fuck ass direction things go with Satoru and you – whatever weird throuple shit he may have to endure? He eats up the fact that you’re his, that he took you first, your mouth, your pretty cunt, fuck he was your first real kiss and not for show.
Possessive and sick, fucking depraved is how you make him – so depraved he’ll do anything to make sure you stay his. You belong to Sukuna as much as he does to you.
“Try to take more,” he leans forward now, adjusting his cock so it glides up in your throat easier, sucking in a breath as the wet, slutty sounds fill your room. “That’s it, mouth wrappin’ me, throat that tight? Fuck – m’gonna stretch it out, have him hear how badly I ruin it. So loud and slutty.”
You’re whining out at his toxic words, you – as pretty, sweet, and innocent as you are – are toxic too. He senses it in how you respond, in how you whine out when Sukuna holds you there, buried to the hilt, your nose pressed against the coarse pink hair at his base. He groans and keeps you there, brushing your hair back as you drool, throat quivering.
“You can take me brat,” he whispers softly, pulling back and letting that precum dance on your uvula as he moves. “Want me to use your throat, huh? Just like this?”
You sniffle and nod, just a beautiful, ruined, tear streaked mess, your lips are so swollen and bruised when you pull back and he lets you get a breath, just to suck him down obediently, letting him choke you with his length. Your pretty, lidded eyes are all glassy, that saliva slipping down your chin.
You’ve never even looked more beautiful, never been more his than on your knees, swallowing every fucking drop he pumps inside your throat, greedy and eager to please, your nails pressing hard into his thighs, digging in and making him suck in a breath, cock throbbing now.
“F-fuck… that’s it, greedy lil girl aren’t you?” You pull back with a messy pop, tongue lapping the undervein that wraps his thick cock. “You’re slutty for me… Love my cock ruining your throat?”
“I do,” your voice is weak and shaky, shifting on your thighs.
“Touch that pretty lil cunt while you take me, while you swallow me,” you reach down and blush, he laughs softly, cupping your face. “I want you to cum, wanna feel you scream around my cock, can you baby? Be good f’me?”
You nod quickly. “Y-yes, Kuna. Wanna be good for you.”
You swallow him so good, you drink every bit down, opening your mouth for his spit to join it, taking his greedy fucking kisses.
Once Sukuna has you in your bed all tucked in and tugged against him, he can’t help but let his mind race, to observe your pretty face quietly.
He can’t help but wonder just what was going on in your head.
“What is it, Kuna?” You murmur, voice all rough from where he’d fucked your throat.
“Just wondering if I should go ahead and fuck your ass,” you gasp and he smirks. “I can’t have him getting any hole first.”
“You’re toxic!” You shove him playfully but he cups your face, looking right into your eyes, making you pause, your lips parted. “Kuna?”
“I won’t let you fucking go,” his voice is harsher than he means, his grip on your face is too tight, you’re trembling. “You’re mine, all mine, fuckin’ need you, okay?”
“I wasn’t planning on leaving you at all,” you lean up, frowning now, kissing his lips softly. “I need you.”
“Do you need me, baby?” He whispers, you nod quickly, eyes slipping tears. “If you fuck that dumb white haired shit, would you tell him I hit it better?”
“Kuna!”
“Tell him he can’t make you cum, too,” you snort and roll your eyes.
“You’re insane.”
“Don’t fuck him till he stops bringing those sluts near you,” you nod and snuggle against him. “I’m serious.”
“You assume I’ll fuck Gojo.”
“It’s obvious he’ll beg enough, but I want you to remember who split you open on their cock first,” he whispers, watching your eyes go dazed. “Yeah?”
“Yes, Kuna.”
He knows you’ll let him in, but Sukuna sure the fuck was gonna make sure that dumb fuck didn’t hurt you, and that he was in control. He can’t not have you – all of you – and if he has to share, Gojo needs to learn that you’re his first.
****
𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚
Satoru can’t stand the fact that you look so goddamn happy when you go off in the morning to box with Sukuna, how you get all peppy and do your hair, getting ready to go meet him. You’re making breakfast when he gets up the next morning and walks over by you, remembering the taste of your cunt on his goddamn lips – the way he desperately licked your thighs.
You were ruining him just existing, and now you couldn’t be his – just his – if that really was what he wanted. Was it?
Did he want to pump you full of his cum, have his babies, all those Gojo heirs his parents had pushed on him but instead of the perfect kids, they’d help take down shit parents like yours and his. The mix of your sweetness and Satoru's ruthless nature, kids of his own he could raise and try not to fuck up anywhere close to what your parents and his had done.
What a fucking insane dream, before he knew it your hips would widen – those hips that just beg for his hands, breedable ones he can’t stop imagining, he’d seen your pretty cunt, your tits, but imagine you folded in half? He’s sure it’s how Sukuna had you, part of him wants to see it – this sadistic goddamn part of him that he can’t explain away with any reason.
Satoru Gojo wishes he never pushed you away, he wishes he gave whatever the fuck this is some chance rather than shoving you into Sukuna’s arms, willing to get little crumbs and pieces of you at best. You shouldn’t even have let him taste you, shouldn’t have let him near you – yet you did.
Sukuna did.
What was his motivation, some fucking control, some way to torture Satoru? Did he think Satoru wouldn’t try to make you his if he got the chance to, that he wouldn’t sink to his knees if you just commanded him to? For as sweet and precious as you are, you have Sukuna Ryomen ready to do anything for you – including beating your parents and letting Satoru himself touch you.
He sees why, when it would merely take a few words and he’d do anything you asked, too, your tentative smile all shy and sweet like you weren’t wrecking his mind, like you didn’t have his dick utterly broken. He can’t even think of another woman without disgust now, and it’s all your fault.
“Good morning,” you say softly, tentative as if you’re not sure when or if he’ll snap, say something mean as fuck to you.
Of course you think he would.
“Yeah,” he can’t even say good morning to you, not when he heard slurping noises coming from your room last night, gagging and choking, and your lips are fucking swollen today. He walks behind you, making you tremble just a bit, an arm on either side of the counter. “Where’s your lover?”
“He’s at the gym,” you barely manage to speak, clearing your throat. “Where’s Jennifer? Chloe?”
“Fuck if I care or know,” you turn to him now, a little bit of batter on the corner of your lip, he swipes at it, pressing it between yours and watching as his thumb parts those lips. “Suck.”
You bite him.
“Fuck,” he laughs then as you glare, teeth indentations in his skin. “Guess that only works for Sukuna.”
“He always gives me a choice,” you blush furiously now. “Also… he only just let me do that.”
“Haven’t you two been fucking?”
“Yes,” you turn again, stirring the batter quickly, feeling his breath against your neck. “My lip was busted and he was worried. But also I never have… so… my only experience was watching you.”
Satoru pauses.
“Watching me?”
“Well not spying but I saw Chloe on her knees when you didn’t shut the door all the way, and that random girl you brought… they both did,” you clear your throat, Satoru’s heart sinks. “I um… wanted to try something that made him feel good like that I guess.”
“Ah,” how does he respond? When the pain is written on your face as he steps to the side and looks at you, when your lip is trembling. “You were curious, hmm?”
“How to please you at first? Yes,” you start pouring the batter into the muffin tins, clearing your throat. “I thought very foolishly that you’d eventually want me that first month, that you’d just let me try and I’d be able to make you like it.”
He can’t speak again.
“It was stupid,” you sigh and lean over to set the timer, placing the pan in the oven and letting it whir. “I was stupid then, so fucking stupid.”
“You weren’t –”
“On that you were correct,” you shut the door and look at him, the oven rushing warmth and making your cheeks flush. “That I was so pathetic I’d have dropped to my knees for you.”
Satoru Gojo hates himself.
*****
𝖄𝖔𝖚
He says nothing as you start heating up butter for the eggs in the pretty diamond coated pan – Satoru was nothing if not great for the finest items in the kitchen, the finest of everything. He studies you in a way that makes his blue eyes feel like a physical touch, making you remember his desperation last night, making you remember so much about it.
You’re utterly confused.
“It wasn’t pathetic,” you scoff then, looking at him in shock, he curses and shuts his eyes, hand rushing through his white locks. “Wanting to please your husband was what you were raised for, and it was all you really knew.”
“You think that was all of it?” You hardly hold your emotions back, but he looks at you in this way that destroys your soul. “You think I didn’t have feelings long before we got married?”
“How could you? You didn’t know me.”
“I knew of you, I saw you – so sweet I thought,” you laugh without humor, stirring the eggs up and trying to keep your composure. “I always thought you’d rescue me from them, that you’d show me love, that I could give you your heirs. And make you so happy you wouldn’t regret me.”
He’s quiet.
You’re quiet, but he studies you carefully, with aching reverence as you busy yourself more. “I was stupid.”
Satoru shuts his eyes, before he tugs you to him, cupping your face and trying to ruin you, his eyes glittering with emotion. “You weren’t stupid, you just didn’t know what a disappointment I would become.”
You can’t speak, you can’t say anything, heart hammering in your chest as he leans low, pressing a kiss on your brow that has no right being comforting, sighing and then stepping back, his hands shaking.
“You shouldn’t do that…” He laughs, a bitter, hollow sound, hands finally falling from your face.
“I could suck you off my fingers but not kiss your forehead?”
“It hurts more,” you admit, shutting your eyes, he sighs quietly.
“You’re going to train?”
“I am,” you murmur softly, looking back at him finally. “You’re going to work?”
“Yeah…”
Satoru walks away without another word.
*****
You bring the muffins and breakfast in a little warmer for Yuuji and Sukuna. The gym has started to feel like a little sanctuary, especially with the lingering confusion of Satoru Gojo. Sukuna is punching the bag and Yuuji is stretching, looking like a young carbon copy of his uncle, waving at you all bright and chipper as Sukuna just smirks at you.
“Good morning!” You smile and walk over, holding up the little lunchboxes now. “Ooh, for me?”
“Mhm! I made plenty too,” you look at Sukuna and grin. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” the way he says it makes your core tighten, he knows what he does with his words, when the three of you go over and sit, eating in Sukuna’s little office. “Fuck, you cook this good?”
“I love to bake,” Yuuji is on his third muffin, moaning.
“I love you. I mean!?”
“I’ll kick you through a wall, brat,” Sukuna glares and Yuuji looks frightened, you’re just giggling, handing him a little thermos.
“I made coffee too.”
“Oh it’s so sweet!” He’s happily sipping, before looking at you carefully, something feels so perfect about sitting here with both of them, even if you’re constantly being pulled in another direction.
Is this what it feels like to be split in half?
“Are you still hurt?” Yuuji breaks your heart, you shake your head and touch his shoulder.
“I’m okay, I promise!” He sighs and then peers over at Sukuna, clearing his throat.
“I’m going to clean up a bit, I have a class to get to.”
“Go ahead kid.”
“Thanks again,” he smacks a little kiss on your head, making you smile with affection, Sukuna carefully studying you, his expression unreadable as he leans back in his seat, raising a brow.
“Kuna? What is it? You’re quiet.”
“Did he eat these fucking muffins?” You snort in laughter, shaking your head and walking over, sitting on his thigh and letting him roughly tug you against him on his lap. “I’m serious.”
“No muffins for him, silly man,” Sukuna shoves one at you. “Not a single one actually.”
“You need to eat, I don’t like that you lost weight when you’re needing to gain muscle and train,” you flush at just how much he cares, snuggling closer and taking the muffin in your hand, biting it. “You haven’t been eating for shit.”
“It’s because I’m a little stressed,” his lips quirk up, his hand brushing against your thigh, making you wince. “Ah…”
“And stiff. Do I need to come over and massage you tomorrow night?”
“You could,” he sighs, swiping a little blueberry off your lips, humming to himself. “Are you doing a match tonight?”
“Yeah but if you need me…”
“Gojo isn’t going to bother me.”
“Mhm.” He’s glaring as you take another bite. “He doesn’t give a fuck if you eat or not, and I have to worry because you’re not living with me.”
You blink at that, his big arm wrapped tightly around you, you thoughtfully chew the muffin, his eyes unreadable. “Would you want me to live with you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” You blush now, he chuckles a bit. “Don’t blush when I say I’ll fuck your ass, but you blush about that?”
“Hush!” He’s breaking out in a laugh that pisses you off, you shove off him and he tugs you back, kissing you mean and brutal, the way that steals your breath.
“Thanks for breakfast, brat,” he murmurs softly. “I’ll be over to give you that massage tomorrow night. Yeah?”
You bite down on your lower lip, nodding. “Yeah.”
****
𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚
He supposes now is his payback for the two months he’s spent fucking girls in your house and having you listen – to have Sukuna come over as if this goddamn place is his too, and look at your pretty face brighten up. Your eyes are all dazed like he’s got you hypnotized, your giggles louder once he’s apparently ‘massaging your sore muscles’.
Sure, that absolutely sounds like you’re getting ‘massaged’ – the squelching of your loud little cunt, the soft whines and sounds of skin smacking, to the point he’s dripping precum from his tip. He rushes over and opens the door, scowling at the both of you, before pausing, the sight of you like that ruining him.
“Do you all have to be so fucking loud?”
It sounds ludicrous to his own ears as he stands there, Sukuna’s got you bent over, cock buried deep, your tits are slipped out of that sweater, the big loose one he has tugged down, when your eyes lock with his. He hates that his cock is aching, hates another man’s hands on what’s all his, the way you look up at him somehow innocent and sweet even while you’re actively getting split open.
Sukuna pauses his strokes, pulling you up on your knees, taunting Satoru with the image when he slowly pulls that sweater up and off you. He can see the bulge of his cock in your tummy, something he wanted for himself, something he was dying to have when he took you the first time.
Now, who knows how many times you’ve been fucked by Sukuna?
You look back at Sukuna for just a moment, your expression entirely unreadable, he wraps a huge tattooed arm around your body, kissing you possessive, before he eyes Satoru. His brows lower and his smirk shows, slamming up into you again, your tits bounce with the movement, further making Satoru ache.
“Gonna stand there and watch?” He says then, Satoru scoffs, looking away now. “Didn’t you make her watch?”
“Yeah,” he supposes he put you through this too, but the difference was your goddamn eyes, and the way you roll your hips now just so. “I did.”
“Bet you’re gonna jerk it to this, huh?” Sukuna makes Satoru wanna kill him, cut his arms off that are wrapping yours. “Jerk it to her all the time don’t you?”
“Tch, can you two just…”
“Come on then,” Sukuna brushes a hand down your back, pushing you on all fours. “You don’t deserve it though.”
“Deserve…” He sees your hands clutching the blanket, your lips parted, he walks over tentatively, Sukuna’s eased his movements, far too familiar with your body already. Satoru stands in front of you and your hand slips up his cock over his pants, making him suck in a breath. “You’re this slutty already?”
“Only I call her that,” Sukuna murmurs, Satoru quickly tilts your chin back up, staring at the girl he knows he fucked up with, knowing he doesn’t deserve a touch from you.
“What do you want?” He asks for the first time ever, you pause and blink just a bit, sighing as Sukuna slowly fills you up.
“I don’t know,” you admit softly. “Just to… forget. To… not think.”
“Yeah,” he breathes out ever so softly, undoing his belt, his cock is dripping pre right on your blanket. You whine out, this sound he can’t get out of his fucking mind, a hand brushing your hair back and holding it. “I don’t want to think either.”
“Say please, because she’s doing you a favor,” Satoru scowls right at the giant pink haired man in his wife, but then falters as he sees your eyes.
“Please, suck me… if you want - ah,” your tongue laps at his tip, his grip tightens hard in your hair, as your mouth wraps him, and fuck he could almost bust from just that. He’s whimpering from one little suck and a kitten flick of your tongue, as you’re forced to take him deeper, Sukuna’s thrusts jolting your body. “Fuck… feels s’good I just…”
“Should thank me, I taught her,” Satoru wants to kill Sukuna, but he also wants to fuck your throat until it’s stretched out, till it burns and you think of him, he wants to look into your pretty eyes and imagine you’re only his, that he didn’t ruin it all. Instead, he’ll take anything from you, anything at all. “Praise her, don’t just fuckin’ stand there, she deserves it.”
You moan around his length, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers dig into your hips, pressing in the flesh there, and then you look up at him all cross eyes, his pink tip against your uvula. “You’re doing such a good job.”
You suck him deeper and whine around him, he wishes you didn’t know how, that he was the one to show it to you, but he fucking knows that’s insanity. He knows he had the chance and actively shoved you off, turned you down every moment you tried, and that he doesn’t in any way deserve to have you choking on him, your soft little moan echoing in his ears as his own mixes with your sweet sounds.
Even sucking cock and getting fucked you somehow are sweet, cute, the way your nails press into his thighs and your lashes flutter – how is someone this pretty mid blow job? Satoru has shared women with his best friend, he’s not new to it, but he’s never been fucking furious that another man existed, that he was getting to feel your surely pretty cunt wrap him.
Satoru is so lost in your eyes he hardly notices the giant man he hates easing into your cunt, he doesn’t fuck you hard, it seems more intimate than that, the way his hand slips down the curve of your spine. Your moan around Satoru’s length, eyes damn near unreadable when he brushes your hair back, going to pull it and then stopping himself.
“Do you want me to pull your hair?” You pause and pull back, saliva dripping down your lips in a thick string, connected to his tip, Sukuna’s hands tighten their grip on your hips visibly dimpling your flesh.
“You can, I like it,” he wishes you didn’t know that you did, but he’s too needy and aching too much to say anything.
Does he have a right to wish that?
He’s had how many girls suck his cock since you all ‘got married’?
At least three women, so what if you got with Sukuna, he gets it. Deep down he doesn’t even fucking resent you for it, he deserves much worse for all the terrible things he put you through – but there’s another part of him that’s feral, that’s tugging your hair and fucking into your throat, wanting it to have his shape.
He wants you to know him, have his cum pouring inside you, but for the moment he’s sucking in a breath, fucking into your tight little throat now, tugging your hair back.
“Fuck you’re doing s’good,” you whine out, he takes one of your hands, sucking your little fingers in his mouth, shoving his cock deeper and feeling you drool. “So good. fuck…”
“She is,” Sukuna murmurs roughly, fucking into your cunt with the loudest noises. “That praise has you soaked, brat, is he finally doin’ something right?”
“Fuck off, Sukuna.” Satoru moans out though, you’re taking him fully, to where your nose is flush in his white nestle of hair, choking on him so your throat constricts. “Are you wet for me, sweetheart?”
“Mmm,” you let him fuck your throat now, clinging to his wrists, letting him rock his cock faster, the sounds filthy, along with the slams of your cunt from Sukuna. You’re swallowing around him, ass arching back for more.
“Gonna cum around my cock, milk me?” Your little hum is your answer, but when your eyes lock with Satoru’s?
Satoru can’t handle the way that look fucking ruins him – how he’d do anything to keep it in his brain forever, that look of devotion he wasted mixed with this look of fucked out pleasure. He doesn’t think anything will ever hit him like your eyes, his cock twitching inside your throat in response.
“Go ahead and cum,” Satoru whispers, brushing your cheek with a finger as he pulls back and eases his cock back in your throat. “Let me see you.”
****
𝖄𝖔𝖚
You shatter with one more stroke of Sukuna’s cock in your snug, messy cunt, Satoru’s eerie blue eyes looking down at you with something akin to reverence, something you wonder must be your imagination. Yet his eyes, his cock choking you out mixed with Sukuna’s thick cock wrecking your hole sends you over the edge, you feel Sukuna grip your hips, Satoru cupping your face.
A girl who just a week ago was a virgin now has two nine inch cocks inside her – Sukuna’s buried to the hilt, a thumb pressed in your other hole, Satoru Gojo with his pretty pink tip buried in the back of your throat. You’re moaning around it when Sukuna angles his hips and has your cunt gushing, squirting down his thick, veiny length and dripping down his heavy balls, full of cum.
Pleasure has you dizzy, almost falling if Satoru and Sukuna didn’t hold you up, your hands clinging to Satoru’s dress shirt, trembling and quivering around Sukuna as your orgasm ruins you. Have you ever cum this hard before, you can’t say you have, there was nothing like having blue eyes on your face, and red eyes boring holes into your skin.
“Look how much you came, messy, slutty girl,” Sukuna cooes like a sweet name, for Sukuna he did mean it that way, scooping up some of that slick now, leaning forward to press his cock impossibly deep. “Squirting for us again.”
Satoru exhales, pulling back and twitching hot and heavy against your mouth, his voice breathy. “So p-pretty when you cum.”
Your tummy clenches, already weak from the pleasure Sukuna has brought you, with the added insanity of the man who ‘hates you’ and ‘doesn’t want you’ whimpering as you suck him. Satoru eases back now, tip glossing your lips with his salty pre, your tongue laps it up eagerly, feeling Sukuna’s own spurting light little trails against your puffy cervix.
“Where do you want this,” he asks softly. “I’m close.”
“She’s that good,” you look back at Sukuna, biting your lip, his red eyes are dark, his thrust possessive, as if to remind you that you’re his. You push back on him, earning his eyes rolling back. “Fuck, backing it up on me? Learn so well…”
Satoru tilts your chin back to look at him, cock twitching and leaking white trails of his seed down in rivulets. “You pick where, I’ll cum in my hand if you want, or anywhere on your body.”
“My mouth,” he shuts his eyes and exhales, Sukuna chuckles just a bit, pressing that thumb in your other hole deeper, making you suck in a breath. “Mnh! W-want you both to finish inside.”
“That’s my pretty little brat,” Sukuna leans over you, tilting your chin to kiss you all messy, tugging at your hair, before murmuring in your ear. “I’ll fill you up, fuck all that cum back inside, all you want.”
“Please,” you’re trembling now, lost in how good you feel – you can’t think about anything else, just how good he feels, Satoru’s stroking his cock and you can’t help but bite your lip then. How would he feel inside you?
Should you feel terrible wondering?
“Swallow all of it, like a good girl,” Satoru’s words fuck you up, Sukuna surely feels you clenching around him, pushing him to get closer with every quiver. “Fuck I mean… Please?”
“Mhm,” you open your mouth and he spits right in it first, the action filthy, his eyes damn near going cross as he slips his cock back inside, and Sukuna drags your ass back to slam your cervix. “Mnph!”
“Takin’ both of us so well,” Sukuna’s praise is rough, it’s sensual, the way he controls your body, while Satoru’s strokes are easier, tentative.
“So well,” Satoru agrees softly – praise, from him? You never thought you’d see that, have that, it almost feels like there is no reality where it exists. “Can you swallow all of me?”
He pulls back again, letting you speak. “Mmhmm.”
Satoru’s cock is back dragging heavy on your tongue, the soft tip gliding against the roof of your mouth as Sukuna twitches inside you, you’re moaning and making Satoru more sensitive, eyes rolling back when Sukuna slams against your cervix so hard it hurts. You cum again, sending Sukuna and Satoru right with you, one flooding your throat, the other your messy cunt.
You’re so full of them you can hardly think, swallowing somehow sweet cum, as so much floods your hole, Sukuna’s other finger easing out of your ass with a pop, his cock gliding in and out and pushing into your cunt. “Fuck… takin’ it like that, such a good girl…”
“F-fuck…” Satoru’s stuttering, his hips bucking as you drain him, glides his cock right down your snug throat and feels it contracting, you suck every drop down eagerly. When he pulls back he exhales, kneeling and kissing your lips.
Satoru’s kissing you.
Sukuna eases out with a wet, messy pop, gliding two fingers in the creamy mess he made and pulling you back, slipping his own release in your mouth. You suck them eagerly while Satoru kisses down your neck, exhaling and whispering your name in your ear, Sukuna does the same while you suck his fingers, glossy against those rough, calloused knuckles.
Your eyes meet Satoru’s carefully, still trembling and kneeling, his hands glide across your breasts almost worshipful with his movements, thumbs brushing against your nipples. You feel split into two pieces then – no you haven’t forgotten what he’s done, you don’t pretend to know who he is, but for a moment you see it – what could have been, what you could have felt.
It hurts more knowing there was something there.
Sukuna’s fingers leave your lips, now you have both men in your mouth, on your tastebuds – overwhelming you. You swallow nervously as Satoru kisses across your collarbones, one of your hands tentatively brushes his hair back, the other reaching back for Sukuna’s sure grip, feeling it wrap around your wrist.
“She’s perfect, isn’t she,” Sukuna says lovingly, even as he’s gruff, kissing across the back of your shoulders where you’re slick with sweat. “Too good for you.”
“She’s too good for you,” Satoru says, Sukuna raises a brow then smirks.
“Yeah, she is.” You go to protest when he nips your shoulder, your thighs and arms are trembling, his lips on your ear. “You’re all mine, even if I let you have him too. Mine, just mine, had you first, didn’t I? Came inside, I’ll fucking keep cummin’ inside you too.”
“Sukuna…” You trail off softly, sometimes his ruby eyes are insane, like right now, his huge hand cupping your face.
“You don’t get to fuck those other girls then come here and use her,” Satoru scoffs at that. “I’m serious, I won’t have her getting something off your slutty secretary.”
“I use condoms,” he admits quietly, looking at you now. “You certainly don’t – slutty don’t ya think?”
Why does the way he says that fucking ruin you?
“Why would I use a condom when I can cum inside her?” Sukuna chuckles, the two men silently scowling at each other. “Besides, it’s only her I’m with.”
Only you.
It screams the truth – that Satoru was up until the other day still actively fucking other women, and now you are with Sukuna, but Sukuna just gave you the opportunity to suck Satoru, he shared you even though he’d not have anyone. It means a lot to a girl who’s wracked with insecurities, leaving you to look at Satoru curiously.
“I’ll give you a moment, but just one.” He smacks your ass and grips either side, nuzzling your neck. “If you want one.”
You nod shyly, turning to kiss him, tasting his cum right off his mouth, easing to kneel and feeling how sore you are. “Yes if you’re okay with it, Kuna.”
“Yeah well, let’s see if his dumb ass stops inviting messy sluts over,” you expect Satoru to lose his shit about that statement – but instead his gaze is fixed on you, and you can’t read those goddamn eyes.
Who even is your husband?
Sukuna walks around blatantly naked when he shuts the door, Satoru helps you up, heat rises in your cheeks when his eyes see the creamy mess of your pussy, you see his cock is already hard again, twitching with his tip so pink it’s almost red. Satoru sits on the bed then, hand brushing across your face, eyes completely unreadable when they study you.
“You can still be with who you want,” you whisper softly, sighing now.
“Who I want, hah,” he laughs without humor, confusing you more than ever. “You think I want them?”
“Well, yes? Sukuna just gets…”
“Psychotic and possessive?”
“Yeah,” you blush even more now. “It makes me feel really special. I guess that wouldn’t make sense to you.”
“No it…” He sighs and looks back down, hand slipping across your tummy, it trembles underneath his touch, the sticky mess coating your inner thighs. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“I feel fucked for wanting it,” you admit, blinking rapidly as he studies you, tilting his head. “It doesn’t change what’s happened, or everything you did. I want Sukuna, and… I want…”
“Me?” He finishes softly. You look away again as his fingers brush the sticky mess of your cunt. “Hah, another man’s cum inside my wife.”
“Temporary wife,” you correct softly, before you cry out, his fingers grazing your clit, making your eyes jump up. “Remember?”
“Yeah,” he sighs, finding your clit with ease and rubbing, spreading Sukuna’s cum so that it’s sticky, staring right into your eyes as he runs circles, your own eyes flutter shut. “Look at me.”
“Why?” He uses his free hand to tilt your chin up.
“I wanna see if it’s different when you cum for me,” he whispers, earning your look of shock.
“Why would you care, wasn’t it just fun?”
“Fun,” he laughs without humor, slipping two fingers in your sore cunt now, you suck in a breath at the sensation, as Satoru peers down at the mess you’re making, white and gossamer just gushing down. “Fuck you’re so tight… pretty, beat up cunt, look at you, shit…”
He’s shoving them deeper, tugging at your hair now, rocking them up and down. “Gojo…”
“Satoru, fuck please,” he’s desperate now, lips parted, hovering over you and pressing your back into the bed. “Got me so pathetic I’m fingering Sukuna’s cum inside you, at least call me Satoru.”
You swallow, unable to speak or think, it was one thing to suck him – another for him to rock his fingers inside, looking at you with insane, desperate eyes. You swallow nervously, Sukuna had let you have Satoru but what does this mean? You easily fuck Sukuna alone, and Satoru is your husband, but it feels so different with him, when he kisses your lips.
“Bet you'd feel so perfect wrapped around me,” his voice is hoarse, toxic, laughing as his fingers rock up and down, faster and faster, making you dizzy, lashes fluttering. “Wish I could have broke it, fuck wish it was all me. Now look, your cunt is a mess, stretched out, ruining these sheets.”
Every word fucks you up more, his kisses bruising, teeth clicking it’s desperate, a hand tugging your hair.
“Can taste myself,” he hums, tongue swirling, hitting this spot that makes you hiss, clinging to him, pussy drooling. “I'd fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to walk. Fuck every thought out of your head till you're dumb. God the things I'd do to you.”
“Gojo you're so – ah!” His eyes go dark, feral grin on his face – the man that didn't want this now desperate, insane, obsessed, making your cunt squelch so loud it's obscene.
“Just lemme feel it grip me,” he sighs now. Cock leaking pre all over again. Moaning when you tense up, teeth sinking on your lip, his long fingers pressing against your cervix. “Cum for me, just once for me.”
He curves them deep again, you let out a moan that’s embarrassing how loud it is, fingers fucking you faster and faster, heel of his hand grinding right on your clit, watching you shatter for him. You’re twitching, squirting down his hand, he moans at the sight of it, studying you with dark eyes so unreadable, pulling those fingers out to run up your slit.
“You do look different,” he whispers, rubbing all that mess and shoving his fingers in your mouth like Sukuna did, you wrap your lips around them obediently, his own part at the sight. “Fuck…”
“Hmm? Mnh!” Satoru’s kissing you again, drinking your cries up, thumb pressing your clit in circles. “Sensitive!”
“God I could watch you cum all day,” he whispers, you shake your head, tears suddenly hitting your eyes when he looks at you, pausing. “So fucking pretty…”
“You’re so fucking confusing, Satoru Gojo…” He sighs, resting his forehead on yours, fingers entwining in your hair and tugging.
“Yeah, I know,” he sighs and pulls back a bit when Sukuna walks back inside, crossing his arms in the doorway. “Lemme guess, my time is up with my wife?”
“Yep.”
“I’m not an object to give or receive,” you cut them off then, Sukuna smirks a bit at that.
“I like you standing up for yourself,” he comes over, tilting your chin up, thumb brushing across your jaw, studying your slick thighs and tensing a bit. “Did he at least make you cum, or is he shit at it?”
“He did,” you whisper, Sukuna hums and leans over you, cock already leaky and hard again, your hands grip his hair as you let him kiss you, he eyes Gojo over your head now.
“When will he beg for your forgiveness though?”
Satoru tenses as you pull back, looking down just a bit. “Kuna, I really want a shower. Can we take one?”
He cups your face and nods, picking you up and carrying you the way he does, leaving Satoru in the room. When he is running that water you hug his chest, letting his arms wrap around you tightly, the steam filling the bathroom.
“Why are you letting him… letting me…”
“Listen,” he tilts your chin up, your head falling back to look at him. “You haven't done shit before me, and you had feelings long before I met you. I'd rather you figure this out with me here to protect you.”
“Kuna,” you're in tears now, he shushes you and guides you to the shower, where the hot water beats down on you both. “I'm fine if it's only us. I am.”
“I know,” he tilts his head, hands coming to wrap your waist. “You were in love with him, and I'm brand new.”
“I didn't know him then, it was like some fairy tale to keep myself alive,” he frowns at that, ruby eyes narrowing. “I'm falling in love with you and it's really fucking scary.”
He says nothing and you immediately feel anxious, taking shaky breaths as he studies you. “And I am with you, all of you – including that sado masochistic part that likes that white haired fuck.”
You giggle then, shaking your head. “Sukuna!”
“You're mine, I'm your first,” he whispers possessively, turning you around so your ass presses against his thighs, kissing down the side of your neck. “First in your mouth, in your perfect cunt, had you bleeding all down me huh?”
“Insane,” his words ruin you, the heavy spray of the water beating down, his hands cupping your tits which are sensitive with your ovulation. “You are my first.”
“Remember that when he's inside you,” you blush at the thought, he runs a thumb across your nipple and bites your neck. “Mmm, I'll only share if he gets his shit together though, I swear to god if those secretaries come over again I'll make them cry.”
You giggle at that, grinning over your shoulder. “I feel so at home in your arms.”
He pauses now, sighing. “Yeah?”
“That and the boxing ring, it's the only place I've felt at home ever,” your lips tremble now. “If he's inside me, I would never forget where I feel at home.”
“Fuck, you ruin me every day,” he groans and kisses you roughly, desperate, needy kisses, before pulling back and laughing. “He really fingered my cum out of you?”
“You're so sadistic!”
“Should get him a fancy cuck chair.”
“A what!?”
“You're cute,” you have no clue what on Earth he's on about, his hand possessive on your tummy. “Imagine the Gojo heir with pink hair.”
Sukuna is truly batshit crazy.
*****
𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚
Satoru can’t stop picturing your mouth wrapped around his cock the next day, how could he have pushed it all away, let you fall in love with Sukuna all to ‘save you’ and ‘protect you’. Perhaps it was the best thing, to protect you and keep you away from himself, give you the choice to find love with someone who clearly is obsessed with you, who you moan for and look at with hearts in your eyes.
Yet how the fuck does he explain the look you gave him when you sucked him, when he fingered your lover’s cum right from that pretty cunt? The one he could have had first easily, but he was so set on making sure you had your choice – well you chose him until he made sure you ran off.
Perhaps Satoru didn’t account for how he’d feel, how when he looked down in your eyes and you whispered that you wanted babies he wanted to fucking give you them. He wanted to give you anything and everything just to forgive him and forget all the horrible fucking shit he did, the time he wasted on women not even close to your caliber.
The clock ticks on the wall with the little sounds echoing loudly, his fingers tapping on the cherry wood of his desk, unable to focus on anything without you running through his mind. Perhaps before he tasted you, before he had your throat swallowing and gagging around him, before he cupped your face and saw the pain he inflicted…
Perhaps then he could act unaffected, act as if any of this was acceptable or normal to him in any way. Satoru couldn’t help but think to himself how terribly he fucking treated you, and he’s never even apologized – sure, that night he did, after taking you away from your parents, but couldn’t he have done more? Couldn’t he have done what Sukuna did?
All this talk of being different, was Satoru different from his shitty father and what he did to his mother? Or did he turn into the very fucking thing he hated?
His door knocks, drawing his attention away. “Come in.”
You are opening the door with a box, his heart hammers in his chest, lips parted as you pause at the door, clearing your throat. It was normal for you to ‘show up’ for the aesthetics of a wife, but you usually just brought something now from take out, that looks like one of the damn boxes you made that he fucking made you cry over, with that note.
How much can a man loathe himself? Satrou asks himself that as you hesitate and don’t walk in fully, a flush on your cheeks. “Is it okay if I…”
“Yeah,” he breathes out the words and stands, you shut the door behind yourself with a click and walk over to him, hands trembling when you hand him the little box. “You… made me something? Why the fuck would you?”
You flinch and he curses, shutting his eyes.
“As in I don’t deserve anything from you, not that I’m irritated,” you ease just a bit, it’s so clear the way you must remember the last time you came in, everything about you is tense and on edge, you’re fidgeting with your hands nervously, looking all pretty in your little dress today.
“I am bringing Sukuna one later,” you answer, earning his jaw setting.
“Oh so your husband and your lover?”
“Yes,” he sighs, shutting his eyes and setting it on the desk. “I felt like we… am I stupid to think that we had… a moment or something and… maybe it’s nothing…”
Satoru cups your face, his hands overtaking it, looking down at you with his lashes lowered, looking into your eyes, anxiety filled ones already glimmering with your emotions. “I can’t stop thinking about last night. Thinking of your mouth,” his thumb trails across it carefully, breath ghosting yours as he leans down. “Your slutty cunt and how she gripped my fingers.”
“Gojo…” You trail off now, chest rising and falling with your breaths, he’s pressing you against the desk now, his hands sliding down your neck, your shoulders, the sides of your breasts.
“Why do you still look at me like you could ever not hate me? Why not look at me like I fucking deserve?” You swallow and look down at his mouth, then flicker back up to his eyes.
“If we didn’t meet like an arranged couple, do you think you’d have hated me so very much?” You whisper softly, making him pause when his hands slip to your hips, gripping and tugging them close, your hands fall on his chest.
“I don’t hate you,” you shake your head now. “I don’t – I fucking hate myself.”
“You love yourself more than anyone I’ve ever seen,” your hands grip his dress shirt now, little shaky breaths escaping your lips. “Do you love to confuse me?”
“As if you don’t confuse the fuck out of me, think I ever thought I’d finger some man’s cum? That I’d damn near beg to eat it out of you?” Your eyes get dazed, your pupils dilated, but your jaw is set, even as he bars you against that desk, arm on either side of you.
“You, eat someone out? Laughable,” he snorts just a bit, blue gaze flickering across your face, your throat, your pretty tits barely visible in that neck line. “Do you hate me less because I made you cum?”
“I don’t fucking hate you –” you scoff and he slams his lips on yours, moaning into the kiss as the door opens, and you both hear a gasp.
“Satoru!” He glares at the door as Jennifer rushes in, coming right up to the two of you now. “What’s she doing here!?”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He says now, at his wit’s goddamn end with this girl, at least Chloe fucked off when he sent her. “I’m kissing my wife.”
His wife.
You’re his wife, for now, until you left him for Sukuna – until you gave him babies and were happy, Satoru could only hope to worship you until then, to beg for any bit of you that you gave – the pieces that he doesn’t deserve. Your pretty eyes looking up at him in that way that ruins his soul, your taste on his lips.
“The wife that is with another man?” You blink and look at her when she comes right up to you, snatching you up. “You want him suddenly, huh?”
You flinch once more – Satoru knows that’s your response even after the way you’ve changed, Satoru snatches Jennifer’s wrist so quickly she almost falls, tugging her off you and seeing her trembling lips and fake ass tears. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
She pouts as you rub your wrist, curling into yourself and hurting his fucking soul.
How could he have hurt you like your parents did? Not physically, but didn’t he do his damage?
“Satoru, I’m just-”
“Get your shit and go home, you’re fired,” you blink a bit and look at him incredulously, as Jennifer gasps.
“You want the world to know that I slept with you, what she is doing!?”
He laughs softly, walking over as she tries to fucking cling to him, opening the door. “Say what the fuck you want, like I give a fuck. Get out.”
“Satoru please I-”
“Suguru?” He shouts for his partner in his office across the busy room, he stands up curiously, the whole of the floor staring at the scene happening. “Can you please help Ms. Jennifer with her things and give her a letter of recommendation?”
“You can’t be serious!” She hisses, Satoru rolls his damn eyes, Suguru immediately comes up and sees you curiously behind Satoru, curiously clearing his throat.
“Sure, Satoru,” he says, gently taking her arm and shutting the office door, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet, his head resting on the door for a moment.
“Did I ruin that for you?” He looks back, narrowing his eyes and seeing you trembling, hugging yourself just a bit. “I know you were with her-”
“I couldn’t care fucking less, she shouldn’t have barged in and put her damn hands on you,” he walks over and takes yours in his own, studying them quietly. “I should have done more with your fucking parents.”
“I don’t think so,” you whisper, looking where his hand joins yours.
“Sukuna beat your dad, the night he fucked your pretty little cunt first, didn’t he?” Your eyes dilate, his voice breaking in the middle with his desperation about to ruin him utterly. “That’s what you wanted.”
“It’s not! I asked him not to, he just…”
“Loves you?” You look down again, earning him tilting your chin up. “He is in love with you.”
“He hasn’t said that yet but he cares for me, yes, very much so,” you suck in a breath when he rests his head on yours, breaths mingling together in the quiet of his office, with the sunlight filtering in.
“You love him.”
“I’m falling in love, yes.”
“Could you ever not hate me?” He asks now, tears filling his own eyes, you bite your lower lip, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “I’m not asking you to not love him, not fuck him, I earned that shit, I know.”
His fingers slip your dress up, gripping the smoothness of your thighs, the tension making him fucking ache, cock throbbing and leaking pre, dying to bury himself inside you. “What are you asking then?”
“For a taste of you, a goddamn piece of you until you finally get to leave me,” he sinks to his knees and looks up at you with his hands slipping your panties down, watching your thighs shaking, that slick on the inner parts of it. “Any of you that you wanna give me, I know I don’t deserve it.”
“Y-you want to… but you don’t…” You’re bare to him, he’s looking right at you, inhaling that sweet scent, you jerk when his breath tickles your skin.
“Let me lick your pretty cunt,” he murmurs, he never thought he – Satoru Gojo – would be begging to eat pussy, with his arranged, cheating little wife of all people, but he can’t imagine not lapping you desperately. “Let me drown in you.”
“You want to drown in me?” Your thigh shakes when he puts it over his shoulder, the noise of his office drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears and the heart beat racing.
He sighs, lashes fluttering when he inhales you. “Let me, fuck just let me taste you, how pathetic do you need me?”
You lean back on his desk, arching your hips and making him moan out loud, parting your plump lips and watching wetness trickle out, hearing your little gasp when he touches you.
“You’re soaked, sweetheart,” he murmurs, nose bumping your clit when his mouth kisses on your cunt – Satoru’s never bothered to be down like this, never cared to put in that much work with a woman.
Until you.
He’s dying to have you shatter for him, just once before you go.
Your answer is to blush all cute like you’re not ruining two grown ass men, hand gripping his white locks, and a little nod.
If Satoru wasn’t already fucked mentally from you before, he was now.
****
𝖄𝖔𝖚
Satoru looks at you with those blue eyes, the ones you can’t figure out to save your damn life, then he surges forward, clumsy and starving.
It's not skilled like with Sukuna, who knew exactly where to lick and suck to absolutely destroy you, it’s messy and desperate. His mouth presses against your clit as he targets it, sucking the twitchy little thing in it – wet and hot, his tongue lavishing you without any rhythm. He’s not even close to your spots but the way he whines out, the way he whimpers against you.
It’s impossible to not fall for those bright blue eyes, burning gaze as he’s drowning in you, his hands dragging you against his face. Your own are flying to his hair, his clumsy mouth devouring you so goddamn desperately, your own slick dripping across his pretty face as you lose yourself, arching further into him, your hips pressing against his face further.
“Why do you have to taste like this?” He whispers, voice thick with desire and his mouth full of your slick. His eyes darken as those pupils blow out, sliding a finger into your needy cunt, fucking right against your cervix and making you gasp, hands tugging at the roots of his hair. "See what you fucking do to me?”
You can hardly register the devastating way he learns your body, your eyes fluttering shut, Satoru adding another, stretching you out, scissoring them inside that needy, messy cunt that squelches. “Gojo…”
“Satoru, fuck,” he muffles those words against you, tongue flicking faster on your clit, his other hand stroking himself, before he sucks it and starts moaning, all messy with your cunt drooling on his face.
You’re overheated and dizzy as his fingers – long and thick – start pressing against your spot, he keeps analyzing you even while he’s messy, needy, honing in on every way you arch and tremble.
“Cum, fuck… just cum on me…” You’re crying out when he accidentally flicks his tongue just right, whining out when he’s standing and turning you around, sinking his fingers right back inside as he bends you over his desk. “Don’t think of him right now, don’t.”
“Did you fuck her on here?” You look back even as your cheeks are flushed, his fingers moving up and down, his lips brushing your neck, teeth sinking in your delicate skin. “How many times since we’ve been together?”
“I couldn’t count,” he admits now, pulling his fingers back just before you can cum, sucking your taste off them with his cheeks hollowing. “How many times has he cum inside you?”
“I couldn’t count,” you answer, his lips messy and mean as you unwillingly arch for him.
"Does he make you this wet?” Satoru’s undoing his belt, lifting your thigh and toying with that slit slowly, watching it drip down. “So wet you drip on the floor?”
“He does,” you admit now, whining out when you feel the blunt of his tip slipping down your slit, making you tremble. “He eats pussy better than you, he makes me squirt all over.”
“I can’t stand you,” he says with a soft laugh, tugging at your hair hard, making your head fall back, his tip hitting your clit and making you jolt. “I told you I didn’t fucking know how, mean little brat.”
“Me, mean? W-what a fucking joke, ngh,” you can’t do this, you can’t fucking do this, even if Sukuna told you that it’s fine, even if he swears that he’ll still want you. How can you fuck Satoru Gojo?
How can you fuck the man that broke you?
How is he the same man that just begged to taste you, the one positioning himself, making your eyes roll back. “I wish I fucked you first, wish your blood slid right down my cock like it did his.”
“Psycho,” you whisper out, scowling right at him, your hands gripping the desk as his hand lifts your thigh, tip taunting you. “Just fuck me, what are you waiting for? Wanna chat and have lunch?”
“You are mean now, fuck,” he’s moaning as if you being mean makes him harder, before he slams his lips on yours and shoves his cock inside you. “Oh my… f-fuck… you’re so…”
He says nothing for a moment, length buried all the way inside your cunt, as you’re throbbing around him, desperately trying to handle how full you are. “How many women were you inside, h-huh?”
“None of them fucking matter,” he gasps out, pulling back and slamming in, the sound messy and filthy. “None felt like you, god no one… perfect little cunt, fuck you for it.”
“Fuck you, Satoru,” he whimpers as he fucks into your cunt, and you can feel his tip dragging your spot, making you sensitive, gasping out for a breath, ass arching despite your words.
“You hate me, don’t you? You fucking hate me,” he moans now, burying his face in your neck, slamming into you harder, a hand coming to wrap your throat, squeezing ever so gently. “You should hate me, you shouldn’t let me inside you, shouldn’t even let me w-watch you with him.”
You hate his words and how desperate they are, you hate how good he feels when he steals your breath, you hate that you both could have been doing this instead of what he made you endure. You hate him utterly and completely, even as your eyes roll back in your skull and his pelvis slams that thick, lengthy cock even deeper inside your walls.
“I do hate you,” you whisper – nothing like with Sukuna, who you’re falling in love with every moment more and more, with Satoru it’s hatred, it’s toxic and terrible, even as he feels so sinfully good. “I do.”
“Good baby, you should,” he kisses you and squeezes your throat, shoving so deep inside that you almost scream out if he didn’t shush you with his kisses. “Cunt was made for me.”
“No it wasn’t,” your answer makes him glare, fucking you harder, mean with it, somehow reverently kissing you as his cock wrecks you, and you feel yourself even closer. “Mnh!”
“Was it made for Sukuna, baby? Does he hit your spots like this?” He slams in again and you whine out, looking into his dazed, psychotic eyes.
“He does,” your answer makes him moan, squeezing harder and burying his cock to the hilt, his hand snatching up yours, putting it on your clit. “Ah…”
“Play with that slutty lil clit f’me,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut when you spasm around him. “He showed you, huh? What to do?”
“Yes,” you whisper softly, letting his long fingers guide your own, the mess of your slick falling, when he whimpers, kissing you desperately, the pressure of his cock in your cunt making you shatter. “Ngh!”
“Don’t stay quiet,” he whispers – psychotically as fuck when you try to bite your lip, your clit twitching underneath your fingers as he slams deeper. “Make that noise, let ‘em hear me fucking you, your slutty cunt’s so goddamn loud.”
“You’re… whimpering l-like… a bitch,” he grins at that, laughing and kissing you. “Don’t make me like you.”
“You like my cock,” you’re spasming, his fingers taking over when yours fall, pinching your clit between two of them and watching you fall apart again, sucking in a breath for a moment at your rolled back eyes, the way your brows draw together. “Fuck you’re beautiful.”
“D-don’t… say that… please,” you barely manage coherent words as you squirt down his length, hips twitching, Satoru cups your face and looks at you with those blue eyes that were once cruel, now they’re desperate, his pupils so big they look black.
“So beautiful, fuck you are, god I w-wish I said it before,” you feel your emotions hit when he buries his cock to the hilt, crying out with his weight pressing you onto the desk.
“Gojo…” He pulls back and his cock slips out, dripping down on the floor with the creamy mess you two have made, sitting you on the desk and fucking you face to face, eyes tortured and so black they’re terrifying with those white lashes.
“Satoru,” you shake your head, even as he kisses you desperate and needy, slamming his cock so deep you feel him all over, curved tip bruising your puffy cervix, you’re crying out into his mouth, nails digging into his back over the dress shirt. “Perfect, you’re perfect, fuck you’re s-so… tight, so wet, so…”
You don’t answer him, you can’t think when he takes you over, ruining your mind just like Sukuna does, making you not think.
You can hardly breathe with his kisses, nose brushing against yours, breath ghosting your swollen lips. “Lemme cum inside, fuck… please, please…”
“You shouldn’t get to,” he sighs and pauses, hands tugging you even further down, shoving up your dress to look at the bulge move, moaning at the sight.
“I’m inside you, filling you,” you swallow – throat gone dry, his tie is crooked, collar coming undone, his hair falling out of its usual perfect place. Satoru is a mess, a whimpering mess for you, whispering your name like a devotion, his lips still taste like your slick. “Wanna fill you, have my cum coat those slutty walls. Please, what the fuck do you do to me?”
Sukuna asks that – what do you do to them?
You take a shaky breath, hand brushing over his undercut, his tip leaking as he thickens inside you, tugging him down for a kiss, making him moan into your mouth, tongue bullying yours, sucking all your oxygen till you can’t breathe. “Satoru.”
“Oh my fuck,” he busts inside you, burying his face in your neck as he takes over your body, teeth sinking into them as he bites and sucks, as if he’s marking you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… god… n-never felt it that good…”
He’s mumbling as he floods your cunt with white, the warmth spreading in your core, you cling to him weakly, thighs spasming as he spills down his own length with the force of your orgasm. His teeth nip under your chin, his eyes drugged when he looks down at you, cock still pulsing as your aftershocks milk him for all he’s worth.
It’s quiet, then.
You hate Satoru Gojo even more now.
You hate that you could have had this if he wasn’t so horrible.
He brushes a tear aside, sighing and kissing your closed eyelids. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“For what this time?” You ask then, swallowing when he rests his head on yours. “For everything?”
“Yes,” he breathes out the words, pushing into your sore cunt. “Sorry I sent you to another man, now I have to watch you with him and dream you’re mine.”
You don’t know how much pain you can take, wanting to forgive and love a man that did this to you, torn now between what’s toxic and terrible, and what’s toxic and loving.
Sukuna was toxic too, but he loved you.
What did Satoru feel?
“I won’t stop seeing Sukuna,” he sighs and glares at you. “Just because we fucked. I am falling for him.”
“And what do you feel for me?” He asks, slipping his fingers across your cheek, blue eyes drinking in your face as his words brush over you. “Just hatred?”
“I don’t know,” you whisper brokenly. Taking a breath he eases out of you, his fingers slipping through the creamy, gooey mess, pressing it back in. “What are you doing, mnh!”
“His turn to play in my cum,” Satoru smirks as you glare at him. “Will you hate me less if I tell you I’ll never fuck Jennifer again?”
“And Chloe?” You stand up with his help, he sucks the mess of you two off, kissing you with it, your hands crumbling that fancy dress suit.
“Never, don’t care if I have to share you,” he sighs those words into your mouth.
“Really?” You look up at him, and he’s dead serious, nodding.
“No one,” you swallow nervously, backing off finally, thighs trembling. “Lemme guess, you gotta visit your boyfriend?”
“I do…” You adjust your dress, taking a shaky breath, laughing just a bit.
“What?”
“I guess since we’re all gonna be…” You trail off, what the fuck even are you three? “Well, what are we all going to do for dinner tonight?”
He smirks a bit. “I’ll let you and fucking ‘Kuna’ pick.”
*******
You swallow nervously as you walk over to Sukuna in his office after the gym is closing, and his gaze drifts across your neck, your shoulders, seeing how tense you are.
“I need to talk to you,” you whisper now, he just sets your lunch down and tugs you onto his lap, you gasp when you straddle him right in that chair. “Kuna I need to tell you-”
“He fucked you,” you swallow and nod. “I told you it was fine if you did, why are you panicking?”
You bite down your lower lip, entire body trembling when he cups your face. “How are you not disappointed, mad?”
“Why the fuck would I be, hmm?” He smirks now, his hands pressing so hard into your thighs they’re bruising. “Question is, did you tell him he sucked?”
You laugh with tears in your eyes. “I told him he sucks at eating pussy, and whimpers like a bitch?”
“Good girl,” you both laugh softly, your hands slipping up his chest, when he shoves your dress up, his pink lashes flickering, jaw setting as he gets serious now. “Pull my cock out.”
You bite down on your lip, doing just as he commands with his gaze serious now, crimson eyes flashing dark once he’s in your hold. He tugs your panties aside and eyes the mess your cunt is, raising one of his brows as he pulls the elastic.
“He cum inside that needy little cunt?” His voice is hoarse, you exhale, nodding, when he sits you on his cock and shoves all the way in, no prep, no touch, just slams it to the hilt, making it burn.
“Ah!” You’re trembling as he grips your hips bruisingly, lifting you and slamming you down once more, the burn and stretch making tears prick your eyes, ones he kisses off your cheeks, the little salty drops on his lips as you cry out from the stretch, the pain that’s so sweet.
“I told you I’d fuck his cum out, huh?” A little gasp escapes when Sukuna bounces you up and down his length, Satoru’s cum slipping down on his own cock with the mess of your own. Your eyes roll back, desperate gasps escaping your lips. “Slutty cunt didn’t need my fingers, did she? She wants all that cum, doesn’t she?”
“W-want yours, please,” he slams you down so hard you’re crying, sniffling out, nails digging into his bare shoulders. “Please, please…”
Satoru begged for you.
You’re begging for Sukuna.
“Show me you want it, brat, lemme see,” you rise up and down, your thighs sore and aching, Sukuna’s teeth biting where Satoru sucked. “I’ll mark you worse, fuckin’ bruise every beautiful inch of you.”
“K-Kuna… ah!” He sucks hard on your neck, moaning as you drip down his heavy balls, ready to breed your hole better than Satoru could, his words filthy, whispering your name like a mantra as he guides your hips, you’re lost in him, dizzy and floating, the pain the only thing keeping you tethered.
You fucked Satoru and he came inside – now Sukuna is fucking his cum out, and letting it drip down his cock.
You’re utterly torn, lost in the high that Sukuna gives, with the lows that Satoru is trying to fix, wondering if you can love two men, wondering if either of them could truly love you. Sukuna slams you down and pins your hips, making you wriggle and cry out, sniffling from the pressure, he groans.
“So pretty crying, is it too much, baby?” He taunts, gaze flickering. “Can’t you take me?”
“I can,” you sniffle more, trying to ride him, thighs shaking, head falling forward as he bites your neck again. “Kuna…”
“Make yourself cum,” his hand slips up your throat, tightening and squeezing, voice devastating. “Milk me for all that cum your slutty cunt needs, that’s it – take what’s yours.”
The maddening rhythm of you working him as he sits there, watching you ride him, grinding your cunt right on him so you drip down his pants, dress rumpled from two sets of hands on it – you’re lost in it, cunt aching.
When Sukuna pumps cum inside, teeth biting harder until a little bit of blood drips down your neck, you’re almost about to faint. Dizzy when he’s kneeling and you’re up on his desk, your thighs spread – you hardly realize he’s videoing it, the sight of all that white pouring, scooping it up and shoving it back inside.
“Kuna why’d you video?” You murmur, just for you to get a text from Satoru. You glare at him and he’s chuckling like a psycho. “You sent it to him!”
“I sure did,” he shoves his fingers deep in your sore hole, his lips trailing up your neck, your phone falling from your hand. “So, what are we having for dinner, brat? Are you cooking?”
Your phone keeps going off, you take a shaky breath, cunt a mess of both men pouring out of you. “Satoru said you pick?”
Sukuna snorts and kisses you, tilting his head. “I’ll pick then,” he nudges your neck, sighing and tugging you close. “Did you really tell him he sucks at eating pussy?”
“I really did!”
“I guess I’ll have to teach the little fuck, but,” he trails off and tilts your chin up. “He won’t ever make you cum like I can.”
Sukuna kisses you, he’s so rough you’re weak, not gentle or easy – like he’s kissing every frustration out, all you can do is fall into his arms, unsure of just what the fuck happened, and how you make any sense of it. You’re married and you have a boyfriend, one who is laughing sadistically as he marks every spot Gojo did even harder.
How does this end up?
plz be respectful in the comments as this was a LOT OF WORK - and I'll repeat again - THREE ENDINGS LMAO
Patreon for more exclusive fics - Kofi link for commissions <3
You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.
pairings - Nepo baby! Gojo x Reader x Boxer! Sukuna
warnings!!! - Heavy angst, cheating, Satoru starts off cruel and mean, reader starts off very shy/insecure, yandere Sukuna. This chap - OH BOY - Toxic, red flag Sukuna, he's obsessed, lighter angst but don't get fooled, a fuck ton of sexual tension, voyeurism, oral (f receiving) fingering, squirting, rough sex, possessive sukuna, yearning satoru, like yearning bad, reader is conflicted, unhealthy relationships, toxic dynamics, Sukuna not giving A FUCK, some violence, too many feelings, pining, finger sucking, creampie. yep that's it I think - 10.8k wc
it's MESSY - can't wait for the very distant future poly end hehe
part four- masterlist - playlist - part six
part five
𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆
Ring ring ring.
Knock knock knock.
No answer.
Sukuna decides to beat on your parents door instead, grinning like a psycho when a butler finally answers, turning up their nose at him. Yeah, he’s used to that shit, even if Sukuna was wealthy, even if he was a whole nepo baby like Satoru himself, there was always disdain for the ‘failed son’ the ‘disgrace of society’.
Your dad – he thinks that’s who this is at least, he looked him up last night curiously – walks up to the front door now next to the distraught butler, scoffing. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I came to pay ya a visit, pops,” he says mockingly, cracking his knuckles and watching your dad pale. “Heard ya like to hit little girls.”
“She’s an adult –”
“So you did hit her.”
“No!? What the – I will call the police!” Sukuna laughs now, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he thinks of beating the living fuck out of him.
“Call ‘em,” your mom comes rushing forward, gasping when Sukuna slams your dad to the ground, straddling him and yanking at his collar. She’s waving her arms all around like some frantic chicken.
“You can’t just come into our home – you’re so uncouth!”
“Uncouth is hitting your daughter, oh and marrying her to a dick.”
“Satoru Gojo is better than she could ever do!” Sukuna snorts at that, pressing his forearm down on the prissy man’s throat. “Get off my husband this instant!”
“I’m not scared to hit you too,” she gasps and backs away. “I’m here for him though.”
“Speak your business and leave,” your father has clear fear in his eyes, Sukuna grins wide. “We know your type.”
“You don’t know shit about me.”
“Some friend,” your mother scoffs out those words.
“I am her friend, that’s why I’m here, to teach you both a lesson about hitting your damn daughter. Lesson one.”
Sukuna lifts his tattooed fist, his knuckles white when how tightly they’re clenched, and brings it down hard onto your father's jaw with a sickening crack that echoes. It’s like music to his fucking ears, Sukuna can’t help but grin as your dad’s head snaps back, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
“Not a little girl, am I Pops,” he’s coughing, Sukuna doesn't stop, either – he knows he should. He intended one hit, but to think again about that split lip and black eye of yours? No.
He lands another punch, this one to the other side of your father's face, grinding his knuckles into the man's cheekbone until it damn near shatters – a little more force and it would. Yet Sukuna knows you’ll be upset about this altogether, the last thing he wants to do is have you more upset.
"Did that hurt?" Sukuna asks, his voice dangerously calm, a smirk on his face spreading. "Shouldn’t you ‘know your fucking place’."
Your mother screams when Sukuna stands and brushes his hands along his shoulders, knuckles bloody from the contact. Your mother is rushing to her husband's side, cradling his bleeding face and glaring up at Sukuna.
"You monster! You brute! How dare you!"
Sukuna looks at her, then at your father, who is groaning on the floor, clutching his jaw, before leaning down, hands on his thighs. “Ya gonna lay your hand on your daughter again?”
“You have no right to speak-”
“No,” she stares at her husband in shock. “I won’t, fuck.”
“Pussy too,” Sukuna snorts, standing straight and jerking toward the butler just to make him piss himself, laughing even louder. “Leave your daughter the fuck alone, both of you, or I won’t be so ‘cordial’.”
“Well I never!”
“Now you have.”
Sukuna walks out – not in handcuffs surprisingly, seems your parents at least weren’t snitches, but then frowns as soon as he sees your text.
You - Where are you?
Shit, you were gonna be real mad.
****
𝖄𝖔𝖚
You’re reading Satoru’s texts and your heart hammers in your chest, a girl who was hopelessly in love just in a month has grown feelings for another. You feel so much for Sukuna, so deeply, yet something about Satoru’s desperate texts are tugging at your fucking heart.
You’re dripping Sukuna’s cum, littered in bruises from his grip, from where he’d fucked you senseless into that bed. You’ve never felt like this, your thighs trembling, your heart split in half, from the odd guilt you feel and the euphoria in equal measures. You know Satoru’s done worse – right in front of you at that, yet it didn’t somehow free you from your thoughts.
Sukuna wasn’t there when you woke up, a stranger in his penthouse.
You sigh and call Satoru, who surprisingly picks up fast.
“Are you all right?”
“You care?” You can’t help but say it harshly, sighing and shutting your eyes then. “I am fine, Gojo. Promise.”
“Well considering you didn’t write me once and… you saw my…”
“I saw them,” you lean back on the couch, toying with the edge of the big shirt Sukuna threw on you. “I was busy.”
“Busy, hah,” he laughs without humor over the phone. “Busy getting fucked by your psycho boxing instructor?”
“Yeah,” Satoru pauses, and your eyes shut, cursing internally. “I was getting fucked by him.”
“So you… you’re not…”
“A virgin, no. Guess you can’t use that insult – you could use whore now though, if you feel like it,” he says nothing instead. “You have no right to be upset.”
“Yeah I fucking know,” he laughs again, a harsh sound in your ear. “Okay so you fuck someone, does he at least make you cum?”
“Why would you care? As if you’d have done anything for me if we were together. Should thank you for not, by the way.”
“You don’t know what I’d do, haven’t you heard those girls cum?”
“Yes I have, your welcome for fucking somewhere other than your house where you can hear.”
“Right,” he sighs now, a loud sound. “Have fun?”
“I did actually,” you swallow down the guilt – he doesn’t deserve your guilty feelings, your hurt heart. “So she’s not there?”
“No, and I didn’t invite her either yesterday.”
“Didn’t tell her to go, did you?”
“I… are you coming home today?”
“Sometime, yeah, I know we have the event tonight but how am I going to cover this bruise up?”
“I can have someone come professionally cover it, I offered you a makeup artist before if you remember.”
“I guess that’ll work…” You trail off again, taking a breath. “You said you wanted me to come home.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I just… it was as if we… I wanted…”
You pause and try to let him speak, wishing you didn’t care, wishing your heart wasn’t aching – for what?
“Just come home.”
“You let me know it’s your home Gojo – I don’t have a home.”
Your tears slip through before you can think to stop them, the fact smacking you sharp in the face, you’re so happy to be with Sukuna, to be in his home, but it’s not yours. Perhaps the boxing ring is the closest thing you have to feeling that way, that felt homey for you to come to, even the home you grew up in didn’t feel that way, nor your apartment you had for a few years.
“Can me and you just fucking talk? Without him?”
“We’ve had time to talk,” you swallow nervously. “I’m feeling a bit of happiness, will you just let me, if you don’t completely hate me?”
“Just come home soon, okay?” He hangs up, leaving you as fucking confused as you’ve ever been, looking at the phone when it rings.
But this is from your mother.
“Hello?”
“You had the man you’re cheating on Gojo with beat up your father!?”
“What?”
“I know it was you who sent him, you dumb little whore!”
“I don’t know–” She’s screaming the worst things at you, making you start to feel sick. “Stop yelling please.”
“What a fucking discgrace, first you have Gojo threaten us, now your lover beats your dad’s face in!? What sort of whore are you having these men dumb enough to fight us over you. Worthless girl.”
“Mom I didn’t do anything-”
“I wish I had another child, fuck anyone but you would do,” your tears fall at her cruel words.
“I wish I had good parents,” you finally speak up, breaths making your chest rise and fall, tears hot and stinging. “I wish it was anyone but you, terrible, miserable, cruel fucking woman.”
“Don’t you dare-”
“Don’t you dare ever call me again, I don’t ever want to even see you.” You hang up quickly when Sukuna’s opening the door, pausing as he sees your tear streaked face.
“Shit… Let me…”
“I asked you not to do that,” you’re sniffling as he shuts the door, setting the keys on the counter, walking right for you. “You could have went to prison!”
“I’d get out,” his jokes don’t work, and he notices, frowning again as he stares at you, brushing your messy hair back. “I had to do something, you expect me to let someone fucking hit you?”
“It will just make stuff worse for me, I know you care but – mnh!” Sukuna brushes his thumb against where you’re hurt, making you suck in a breath.
“He did that, and this,” he touches where your lip just healed, making it tingle underneath his thumb. “I don’t listen to what anyone fucking tells me, and I’m sorry – but I won’t listen to a girl who’s getting abused defending her abusers.”
“Yet I asked you to!” You shove at him now, glaring even through your tears, Sukuna cups your face, leaning low.
“Guess what? I’d do it again,” you gasp, eyes locking with his – an impossible, insane red. “I told you I’d burn down the fucking world for you.”
“You c-can’t,” he turns you around then, wrapping his huge arms around you, cock pressing on the curve of your ass. “Why me?”
“Because it’s you,” he bites your neck, earning your sharp hiss. “God it’s all I can think of since I first saw you, how fucking pretty you were, how broken. How I want to fit these beautiful, broken pieces back together.”
“You’re insane,” you whisper, when he turns your face to him.
“I punched him twice,” you shake your head just a bit in his strong hold, his other hand gripping you between your thighs. “Wanted to kill him, wanted to beat your shitty ass mom.”
“Sukuna!”
“I hate them, I hate anyone who hurt you,” his fingers brush you over that soft shirt until it’s soaked, and you’re writhing for his touch. “And I hate that they made you think you deserved it."
His voice drops to a low whisper against your ear, his breath hot against your skin, making your tummy clench with need. “I know you care, I just… you don’t understand how deep it runs and… I am being a dis-”
“You don't fucking deserve it, and you never did."
His words leave no room for argument, as he’s touching your cunt, wrecking your mind to the point you’re arching against him, whining out desperately. “Kuna…”
“Love when you call me that dumb nickname,” his teeth sink into your neck before he’s bending you over the arm of the couch with a firm push, leaving you breathless when he hovers over you with his heavy weight, his knuckles coated with the dried blood from your dad.
“That’s…”
“Sorry I didn't wash my hands yet,” he laughs and turns your face towards him, breaths mingling together.
His hands yank that big shirt you're wearing up over your ass, the curve of it making him groan. “Mnh…”
"I'm not sorry for what I did," your hands grip the pillow he’s got you pressed against, his body heavy as he presses you down, you hear his zipper sliding down, cunt already responding to it. "I'm not sorry I beat his face in. I'd do it again."
Sukuna’s pressing the wet, slicked head of his cock against your entrance, you’re arching back for more, earning his desperate groan, arms wrapping around your waist to drag you down. Your cunt is struggling to take his shape, eyes rolling back just feeling the stretch.
“I need to be inside you,” he whispers hoarsely, eyes dark as they study you. You’re soaking him, drool spilling from your cunt as he just presses, swiping it up and down, the wet noise echoing in your ringing ears. “Can you take me brat?”
“Mhm, but I m-mad,” he chuckles. “Not funny!”
“You’re just too fuckin’ cute,” Sukuna doesn't prepare you, doesn't wait, drives into you in one brutal, deep stroke that makes you scream out, him moan as you wrap him so goddamn tight. “Oh fuck… stretching her out, huh?”
You cry out, your fingers digging into the arms that wrap you now, face pressed down toward the couch cushions as he gives you just a moment and starts to move inside of you. Mean, possessive strokes that suck the breath from your lungs, tip dragging along your walls, stuffing you so full you can’t think.
“Deserved every fucking hit for touching you,” Sukuna’s voice is dark, his hand coming to rest on your head, entangling in the nape of your neck, lips moving across your jaw. “Deserved worse.”
“You can h-hit everyone who h- hiccup!” He’s fucking you too good, angling his cock so it ruins your snug little hole, still sore from last night – a sweet, addictive ache that rushes through you.
“I can, hah…” He’s gripping you with his bloodied hand, capturing your lips and slamming inside again, filling you until he’s bulging inside your tummy, the one still pressed on the arm – the pressure too much. “I will kill anyone who hurts you.”
You swallow, tears threatening to spill, unable to do anything other than arch back and whine out, eyes rolling back in your skull. Tears do spill, with drool, when he slips your hand down to your own clit. “Mnh, why do you care s-so much for me?”
He pauses, pulling out and lifting you in his arms, your hand falling off as you cling to him tightly. Sukuna’s guiding his cock back inside slower now, studying you with his eyes unreadable – if only you could know what he was thinking. Why he deems you so special that he’d do anything – do too much for you, but he’s pressing you right on the nearest wall, holding you there.
“You ask dumb questions, brat,” his words are soft, cock stuffing you full, his hands digging into the plush of your ass, dragging you down harder as your nails grip his shoulders. “I already told you, I won’t let someone hurt you.”
Your thighs press against his hips, his grip on you tightening until he leaves marks, eyes catching yours – his thrusts are slower now, easier on you, you’re so tight still you can feel the pop of the ridge on his cockhead, every raised vein down his shaft on your gummy walls.
“Feek s’fuckin’ perfect, made just f’me, huh? All me.”
“Don’t stop,” you whisper drunkenly already, the way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel, your voice trembling and shaky. “Please…”
“I’ll give you whatever you want,” his words are rough, but the way he caresses your face is delicate. “Fill you up with as much cum as you need, all of it.”
His lips capture yours, and suddenly none of it matters – your mom’s nasty calls, Satoru’s call, it all just fades as he fills you and fucks your thoughts away.
Addictive.
Sukuna is addictive.
*****
𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚
Seeing you after your night out, littered with marks when you walk in with some brand new dress Satoru’s never seen, his heart sinks in his fucking chest. He knew what you did, that you gave Sukuna your virginity – the thing he told you he never wanted, but what a fucking lie it was.
Satoru wanted you the moment he fucking saw you at the engagement party, he just wanted to give you that freedom, and now you have it, you’re using it. If he didn’t care he’d be happy for you if anything – not feeling this sick jealousy creeping underneath his skin, mixed with the sheer desperation to get even the smallest hint of you.
Your lips underneath his? He didn’t care where they were, if they were sucking Sukuna off or not, didn’t care if your cunt was full of Sukuna’s cum and stretched out – he’d pump more inside you. It’s driving him insane, the need that’s been building, that increased from that night when he took you away from your parents, and now he just got that nasty fucking call.
Sukuna beating them up? He doesn’t blame him actually – he wanted to, but the problem was he knows now things will be worse for you. And yeah, Satoru fucking cares. Imagine him, caring for a human being? He didn’t know he was even capable of it, and here she is wobbling and all bruised from this fuck ass Sukuna.
“You look like you had fun,” he manages to say, you’re blushing as you shut the door. “Too much.”
“Yeah I need to go get fixed up,” you hesitate, pausing in front of him, opening your mouth as if to say anything, but then closing it. “So she’s not here?”
“No,” his answer is quiet, the clock ticking on the wall loud suddenly, the only sound aside from the whirring of the fan overhead and your breaths. “You know he beat your dad up.”
“I know,” your eyes close. “I told him not to.”
“So he didn’t listen?”
“Don’t act like you’d listen to me,” you scoff and shake your head. “No, he shouldn’t have done it, but… he did. And he was honest.”
“You think I didn't wanna beat the shit out of him?” You shake your head.
“No, I don’t think you did. Why would you?”
“Why? I watched… I heard…” Satoru turns, emotions hitting him hard. “Sukuna’s not the only person who gives a fuck.”
“Well that’s a very new development,” you sniffle just a bit, making him turn back to look at your glassy eyes and swollen lips trembling. “I don’t know what to believe from you, what’s jealousy, what’s a game. If you cared, how could you have acted like that, the day in the office?”
“I needed you to give up,” he laughs without humor, walking up to you and leaning low, a hand on the wall behind you. “You did give up, didn’t you?”
“Now you wish I what, held on longer? You don’t even know I’m sure – I wrote you a note in there. Bet you threw the lunch out.”
“I ate it,” you blink in clear confusion. “I read the note.”
“You read that, and said nothing?” Your tears stream down your cheeks, still marked from that hit, Satoru swipes at one gently, his huge hand cupping your face. “You probably laughed at it.”
“I didn’t laugh,” his voice is soft now, as he feels the regret from it all eat him alive. He never planned to care for you during this, he never planned to feel anything – he actively avoided it, but now all he can think of is that note. “You said you felt things when we kissed.”
“I did,” your lip trembles under his thumb. “You said you felt nothing.”
“I did say that,” he sighs now. “Was your cunt wet, your heart racing? Did you ache right here?”
His hand presses your tummy, heat seeping through, your chest rises and falls with your shallow breaths. “It doesn’t matter what I felt, does it? I was no different from Jennifer, Chloe, whoever you could find. In fact – you wanted them.”
“And you think I don’t want you?”
“I know it,” you press your hands to his chest, pausing for a moment. “I asked you if you cared a bit to let me be happy.”
“He’s psychotic.”
“So are you,” he laughs then, shaking his head.
“Yeah I guess so,” he eases back reluctantly, every nerve ending was screaming to lift you up, to kiss and fuck the thoughts of Sukuna away. “I’ll have the makeup artist cover your hickeys up too.”
“Yours are where you can’t see,” your hand slips to his abdomen, he sucks in a breath as you lift that shirt, revealing the purple bruises and touching them.
Satoru almost cums from a caress on a goddamn hickey.
His hand grips your wrist tightly as you look up at him under your lashes, not the shy unsure look, there’s just a little something different there already. “I have a few of these too.”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” he slips your sleeve down, revealing a bite mark right on your shoulder. “I’d be mad he bruised every bit of your skin – but I’d do it too.”
“You wouldn’t, you don’t want to mark me,” he smirks, thumb brushing over the bite, making you tremble, goosebumps rising. “You’re just mad I fucked someone.”
“Yeah I’m mad, but oh sweetheart,” he leans down, lips hovering over the bite on your neck, your hands cling to his shirt, head tilting to the side. Satoru’s hand slips up your spine slowly, lips barely a breath away from your skin. “I’d mark you even worse than he did, your pretty tits would be covered, your waist, your hips. Every cute little slutty inch.”
You say nothing, whining softly, your dilated eyes fucking destroying him as he pulls back, leaving you blinking – it takes everything to do it, against every damn instinct he has. “Gojo…”
“Call me Satoru while we’re out tonight, yeah? Especially when the cameras are on us, they’re gonna ask hard questions about your boxer.” You nod and he drags himself away, shutting his eyes. “You smell like his cologne.”
“I’ll wash up…” You brush past him ever so slightly, Satoru’s hands clench into fists.
He wants to fucking kill Sukuna, but moreso he wants you to look at him the way he saw you looking at Sukuna yesterday, with that damn look in your eyes. Yet he doesn’t deserve that – he didn’t deserve anything from you, fuck he deserves to hear you get railed by him every night.
Just because he knows that doesn’t mean he stops craving it until it drives him insane, jerking it just hearing you in the shower later like a desperate freak. It’s what you make him.
*****
𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆
“How was the night?” Sukuna asks the next day as you’re both in the boxing ring, you frown a little. “What?”
“It was just hard to deal with all the questions, all the photos that they were taking of me,” Sukuna wipes the sweat off his forehead, it’s early in the morning before anyone else comes, Sukuna had hated being away from you after sleeping with you.
In his arms, where he fucking needs you, but last night he had a match he had to coach, and you had that dumb event, where he had to see you on Satoru Gojo’s arm. He knows it’s for show, but there’s something about the two of you together, this sinking fucking feeling you harbor more for Satoru than you let on.
He’ll gladly fuck every thought of the prissy little nepo baby from your mind, but at the same time, he’s so desperate to be with you, he’d rather let you get whatever it is out of your system, under his control. He could see it in the way your cheeks heat up when you talk about him, the way you looked back at him in the house the other night when he took you away.
Sukuna knows that Satoru is gonna try shit on you – he’d rather make sure that he understands you’re his, and that you understand it.
“Sukuna,” you frown as you stare at your phone, Sukuna hits the punching bag and leans over to look at you.
“What, brat? Avoiding training? Think because you got dick you don’t have to put in effort?” You roll your eyes but your lips quirk up, he laughs when you shove at him.
“Jerk,” but your face falls, Sukuna frowns at you.
“What is it? Better not be your fuck ass parents.”
“No, it’s just that someone took a picture of me at the event, after all the cameras stopped and posted this…” Sukuna picks up the phone, frowning when he sees the name, brows raised.
“What kinda fuck ass handle is that? Is she a stalker or some shit?”
“She’s a paparazzi for the shittiest company, so yeah,” you sigh, Sukuna can tell the words are hurting your feelings. “She said I’m… that I…”
“Shh,” his jaw sets now, seeing her nasty little comment when he takes your phone from your shaky hand. “What a stupid bitch, does she need some good dick or something?”
“Sukuna…” You giggle a bit as he takes his own phone out, pulling up the shitty comment on the candid picture of you, you’re still gorgeous it’s just a really odd angle, and there’s a hint of your black eye and swollen lip with the lighting. “What are you doing!?”
“I’ll make this dumb bitch cry, thinking she can say shit about you,” he laughs then, his eyes flashing just a tad redder than usual, black painted finger nails flying over the phone.
“Don’t be mean!”
“You’re a little too nice brat,” he turns away when you try to grab his phone, letting you reach around him.
“Give it!”
“Nope, if I beat up your dad I’ll cuss this bitch out.”
“Sukuna you shouldn’t have done that, I’m still hearing about it,” he shrugs, looking back at you.
“They still talking shit?” You look down. “Ah, another visit.”
“No more visits, you can’t fuck your way out of trouble every time you know,” Sukuna turns and raises a brow at you. “Isn’t that what it was?”
“No brat,” he tilts your chin up with two fingers. “It was me wanting to bury my cock inside you.”
You’re a blushing mess, cheeks hot under his fingers, making him chuckle softly. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“You’re just cute.”
“I can be serious,” you cross your arms, making him smirk.
“She can say what she wants, you have my mouth on your cunt, and my cum inside you. Bet no one’s ever fucked this bitch.”
“Don’t be too mean!” You frown when you see his comment pops up on your phone, pretty eyes widening. “Oh god, you can’t tell her to do that!?!?”
“Sure I can, brat,” he laughs maniacally as he starts typing even more, ripping the surely sad girl to shreds. “Bet she–”
“Ryoumen Sukuna!”
“Fuck you’re sexy when you’re all mad,” he tugs you close, shoving his phone in his pocket, huge hand on the small of your back, tugging you against his body. He’s slick with sweat, your little hands gripping his massive biceps, fingers pressing in against the muscles. “You have even that dumb twink dying after you, surely you know she’s full of shit, yeah?”
You bury your face against his chest, sighing. “He doesn’t want me, I don’t know why you’re so convinced.”
“I’m not blind, look at his fucking face in the photos – yearning like a loser, can’t blame him though. I would too if I couldn’t have you.”
“Insane, you’re toxic and insane,” Sukuna grins at that, seeing you’re still visibly affected by the words.
“I am, so I’ll just eat your pussy until you forget her comment,” you gasp when Sukuna is on his knees, tugging down your leggings, already inhaling your scent, fuck he loves it. “Bet she’s touching herself to pictures of your dumb husband and he’s jerking it to you instead.”
“You’re insane, ngh!” Sukuna drags you against his face, wrapping an arm around your hips and tugging you close, tongue lapping up your slit and gathering those juices, groaning. “Kuna they’ll be coming to practice soon.”
“Then you need to cum quick,” he spreads the meat at your inner thighs apart, tongue lapping all those juices up, moaning as you fill his mouth. Your phone goes off with another comment, and you pause, blinking. “What is it?”
“He commented,” Sukuna chuckles against your heat, slipping his thumb to press on your clit, making your whine our, arching.
“Defended you?”
“M-must be for show or…”
“Or he wants to bury his face,” Sukuna’s tongue slips inside your hole, your phone falls, clattering to the soft floor of the ring, hands clinging to his shoulders. “You’re fucking beautiful, don’t listen to that shit.”
*****
𝖄𝖔𝖚
How fucking awkward.
You, Chloe, Jennifer, Sukuna all at a fucking dinner table that night.
Satoru looks utterly miserable between the two girls fighting over who gets a whack at him tonight, excusing himself to go grab drinks, Sukuna’s enjoying this shit far too much, slipping his fingers in your cunt while you all sit there. Being all… Sukuna like… ruining all your senses every time he touches you.
You’d barely gotten to cum earlier when the hoard of people coming to practice started walking in, but you had an orgasm, one he licked off his lips and fingers hungrily. You know he hasn’t cum though, not since the last time he fucked you – when he pressed in fully without warning, when he’d been insane.
More insane than usual.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” you murmur to him, he nods, swiping your slick on your thigh.
“Gonna squirt right here, ya worried?”
“You’re so sadistic,” he just grins big, sharp teeth glinting. “You are.”
“Mhm, I am, go on before I make you squirt in front of these sluts,” your glare does nothing.
Sukuna truly gives no fuck and that’s frightening as it is sexy.
You bump into Satoru who is walking in from having a cigarette clearly, you can smell the smoke on him, feel the chill from the outside as he grips your arms so you don’t fall. You swallow, looking up at him nervously, the two of you haven’t spoke a word directly to each other during this slutty, dysfunctional cheater dinner.
What can you say?
“Sorry,” he laughs softly, leaning low.
“For walking?”
“Yeah, I mean… not sorry,” you close your eyes. “I um, am going to the bathroom.”
“Yeah.” It’s all he says, hands falling, you halt him then, murmuring his name, making him look at you curiously. “What, I’m just dying to eat dinner with the man who leaves bruises on your throat.”
“And I’m dying to hear annoying bitches argue over who gets to suck your dick first!?” He laughs again, this time genuine, snorting and shaking his head.
“You saying ‘bitches’ is so out of place, it’s kinda cute.”
“I’m not cute mad! You both need to stop saying it.”
“Yeah well, hate to tell you, it’s hard to find you intimidating.”
“I split your lip,” you smile meanly, he licks that lower lip, doing some fucked shit to your tummy. “Didn’t I?”
Yesterday when he’d touched your bite mark and… you can’t even think this way, just because you all have some weird ass understanding, you can’t do that to Sukuna – want someone else, especially Satoru. Yet how do you tell your younger self who loved him to stop feeling? Tell your body not to respond, your heart not to race?
You have to remember this is temporary, and an amusement at best.
“You did,” he murmurs thoughtfully, toying with the lighter in his hand, a little light blue one he keeps fidgeting with. “Got a hell of a hit.”
“Um, thanks for standing up for me with the internet girl,” your words clearly surprise him. “It was kind of you.”
“Me, kind?” He snorts, shaking his head. “Right.”
“It was, even if it was just… like the act of a defensive ‘husband’ for your PR.”
“It wasn’t,” he murmurs quietly, eyes flickering down your body. “The shit she said was all wrong.”
“Is it so far off what you said, the last person on earth you’d want?” Satoru opens his mouth, your emotions hit too deeply already. “I’m sorry I can’t just bring that up, I meant to just thank you.”
“Stop thanking me for shit.”
Satoru walks off, you rush to the bathroom, splashing water on your face, cringing when you hear the laughs of Satoru’s annoying ass companions, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You look tired, your cheeks are sunken in from not eating enough again, dark circles underneath your eyes, a little drawn.
You want to pick yourself apart, all the parts that aren’t perfect, but Sukuna’s words ring in your ears, and now Satoru’s.
Not true.
None of that mean shit is true.
Satoru comforting you is not something you’d have bet on, about as unlikely as Sukuna having dinner with him.
Your life has gotten messy, hasn’t it?
“So what made you wanna become a secretary,” Sukuna pops a bite of food into his mouth, smirking over at the two women who are clinging to a simply exhausted Satoru Gojo. You’d laugh if the sight still didn’t irritate the ever loving shit out of you, the girls are giggling as you sit there, sighing and poking at your food.
You suppose you’re happy that at least you two can sit across from each other in your weird ass dysfunctional way. Satoru’s eyes keep catching yours, darting across your skin, your neck, your chest. Sukuna’s hand constantly on your thigh, squeezing protectively, possessively.
“So, Mrs. Gojo, what do you think of what they’re saying about you?” You blink a bit, tears about to form, you’re sensitive about that, Satoru glares right next to her now.
“How’d you know about it, Jen?”
“Well it’s all over, isn’t it Chloe?”
“I didn’t see it,” she’s running her fingers down Satoru’s chest as you sip on that wine he brought – a good thirty years old, those girls are downing the shit like it’s Boone’s farm of course. Yet you simply take your time, trying to find an appetite, you know you’re not helping things not eating and Sukuna would get on you if you don’t.
“I thought it was mean,” you answer finally, Jennifer gives you this nasty little smile when Satoru takes her hand off him.
“Why don’t you head out, Jen.”
“What!?”
“Yay, I win!” Chloe is practically fucking dancing when Sukuna stands up, taking your hand and tugging you toward your room.
“Sukuna…”
He turns you toward him, tilting your chin up as you both stand in front of your door, you can feel Satoru’s eyes on you both, Sukuna peers just a bit at the annoying Jennifer throwing a fit and Satoru honestly looking so done. “Come to bed, brat.”
******
“Sukuna…” you're gasping out later as Sukuna kisses a messy trail down your body, saliva making those marks glimmer underneath the soft lights of your room, your hand covering your mouth so Gojo doesn't hear.
“Fuckin' look at you,” Sukuna breathes out, tugging your panties to the side, seeing your pretty, glistening cunt, looking up under his sooty pink lashes at your face. “Who are you this wet for?”
You hear it then, the worry, you take a shaky breath as you take your hand off your mouth, trembling underneath him. “You’re asking that?”
“Yeah I am,” he tilts your chin up, staring right at you as his fingers toy with your messy slit, watching you jerk underneath him. “He’s dying for a piece of you, and you can’t see it.”
“Sukuna, he's got that girl in the room, ah!” You bite down on your lower lip to stop it from trembling, Satoru got so annoyed Jennifer had to go, but apparently Chloe annoyed him just a bit less.
“Yeah and he wishes it were you, so is this all for me?” He pulls his fingers off, slipping them in your mouth – you hear it, see it, the anger and possessiveness, letting you suck yourself off them.
“You,” it's true – Satoru and you have reached some odd standstill, an understanding, he's in the next room getting sucked off, but you're not even upset at it anymore.
How can you be with a giant six foot five man between your thighs, with those crimson eyes so dilated they’re almost black? Parting your folds and eyeing your soppy little cunt hungrily as he kneels, the weight of him making your bed sink, spitting a messy trail right on it with a bubbly string of saliva.
“Don't stay quiet,” you gasp when he shoves your thighs against your chest, insanity written all over his face, this sadistic grin as he watches you twitch underneath him. “Let him hear what he can't have.”
“You're insane Sukuna,” you whisper hoarsely, still trying to keep it down – but he just chuckles, those calloused fingers sliding up underneath the plush of your thighs to pin you, spit still trickling between your puffy lips.
“Insane would be making you pregnant right now,” he tilts his head, folding you in half, clothed cock nudging the slick mess your cunt is, soaking his pants. “You think I'm that crazy? Put a fuckin’ baby inside ya?”
He knows you just started the pill – but that doesn’t stop him from saying the craziest shit ever, and your body reacts to it all, clenching in your tummy, your cunt pulsing around nothing. You’re aching to be filled by him, the spit all sticky when he presses on it once more, pressure and friction against your clit unbearable.
Yet you think about it – what Gojo’s doing.
You shouldn’t care anymore, here you are, with a man who beat your dad up like a psycho, who licked you dumb in the boxing ring, and now he’s slapping your cunt with a loud, wet smack. You’re gasping out at the pain, lost in those ruby red eyes of his, the tattoos on his neck glinting underneath your light.
“Pregnant? Mnh!” He’s grinding harder, thickness pressing between your folds and nudging your needy, twitchy clit. “Sukuna, that is crazy.”
“Think I don’t wanna breed your cunt?” Your hands cling to him tightly, as he brushes your hair back, hands pressing into your waist. “When the fuck wouldn’t I want to?”
Sukuna ruts against you, knowing you need more but not fully giving it, your eyes get dazed. “Kuna…”
“I wanna fuck every thought of that blue eyed fuck from your mind,” Sukuna unzips those pants finally, his heavy cock just thwacking your soppy cunt, as his insanity bleeds into his every action. “I’d let you have anything, but I damn sure would be the main one in your head, make sure I cum inside first, if he’s lucky I’d let him after.”
“Sukuna I didn’t s-say I wanted that,” his tip glides through your folds, pushing the arousal around that leaks on him, precum beading from his pearly tip and sticking to your twitchy clit. “Never did.”
“I can see him yearning, who could blame him? Fucked up letting you go,” he shoves his cock all the way inside, deep, tip pummeling your puffy cervix, rolling his hips and putting even more pressure in your core. “He wishes he was in here.”
“Just kiss me,” he hovers over your lips, not quite touching, as your mind spins, cunt fluttering around his cock, swirling down the veins that are pressing inside your quivering walls. “I’m wet for you, okay?”
Sukuna moans desperately, slamming his lips on yours again, fucking into your cunt – rutting you right into your bed, teeth clicking with the way he loses himself. He’s taking over everything for you, making you forget – filling you with that hit of dopamine you’re so desperately lacking in life.
It’s all Sukuna in your muddled mind, thoughts running and fuzzy, your cries getting louder before you can stop yourself, nails pressing against his biceps as they bunch and roll.
“Kuna,” you whine out when he fucks you harder, balls slamming against your ass – heavy with cum he wants to pour inside. “C-can’t breathe, s’much…”
Sukuna slams in and holds it, studying you with eyes gone batshit. “Then breathe me, yeah? Breathe me in.”
You nod weakly, Sukuna’s mouth moves over yours again, tongue swirling around yours, his cock pounding your tiny cunt. Sukuna’s dying to fucking claim you, to ruin you, to stretch you out on his cock so it’s only him – just him in your head, the thought of you forgiving Satoru has him fucking you harder, grabbing you tighter, whimpering your name against your skin.
“All me,” he murmurs against your neck, breathing against your ear. “Let him hear, like he made you hear.”
Your whine is loud when he drags his thumb across your clit, Sukuna can’t help but grin.
“Good girl.”
******
𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚
How can he cum when you’re in the next room getting pounded into the fucking mattress? How can he think of anything but how good your mouth would feel, how pretty you’d look taking him? The girl on her knees is pretty enough he supposes, she’s not shit compared to you. That used to not bother him, he could get over it – but now him hearing you?
Fuck your moans are just sexy, perhaps the only thing keeping him throbbing hard, knowing Sukuna was fucking you – fucking his goddamn wife. The one he pushed to this, and knowing that hurts more, impossibly more. That you were going to eagerly give yourself, you begged for a kiss, your note where you told him you felt something and he broke you.
That was the moment of no return, wasn’t it? When he yelled at you in his office after you made that sushi, the cute little heart shaped ones he didn’t bother to thank you for. That cute pink note where you poured your heart out, and he couldn’t be bothered to apologize, to ever acknowledge it, no he continued on, you wouldn’t be with him long anyway, would you?
He didn’t know seeing you with someone would infuriate him so goddamn much, was it because it was Sukuna?
Was it so much more he doesn’t wanna fucking think about it?
“Satoru,” Chloe whines out, stroking his cock with a tight fist. “I want you to cum for me.”
“Then suck harder,” he shoves her head down, hearing another moan, and a muttered – Good girl.
Good girl, imagine him calling you that? Would you cum on his cock as you did, would you arch for him, let him pin you down as he fucks Sukuna’s cum right out of you, and puts his inside instead? Satoru’s never not used a condom but he would fill you up, feel your cunt quivering around him as he made you forget Sukuna.
He knows you feel it, the way you look at him…
“F-fuck…” Satoru busts in her mouth at the vivid images of you, exhaling with shaky hands, barely able to keep himself together as she swallows it down so greedy, leaning up as if to kiss him.
Satoru doesn’t wanna kiss her – he wants your lips on his, the one screaming out fucking Kuna.
*****
𝖄𝖔𝖚
Sukuna’s snoring when you walk out to get a drink later that night, turning the corner into the kitchen just to smack into Satoru’s hard body. He catches you before you trip and fall, his hands taking your waist over, feeling too intimate – it’s utterly too much, when he looks at you, his lips parted, eyelids lowered.
“Have fun?” He asks softly, you nod with a jerky motion, your hands going to push him away but faltering.
“Did you have fun, Gojo?” You ask, tilting your head back to peer at him, your heart hammering in your chest.
You want Sukuna.
You can’t want Gojo too.
His words echo in your mind – Gojo wants you.
He can’t want you – if he did, he’d have never done what he has to you, if he does it’s some sick fucking game. You ease back but he doesn’t let you go, stepping until your back is against the island, the cool marble pressing into your skin, you’ve only got a crop top and a little pair of shorts on. Satoru’s touching bare fucking skin, lowering over you.
“No I didn’t have fucking fun,” you gasp at the harshness in his voice, the desperation that breaks him, the same tone Sukuna had when he asked if you were wet for Gojo. “Hearing you moan underneath him? Do you think I liked it?”
“I’ve listened to you moan this whole month,” you practically hiss the words, Satoru sighs, his eyes shutting, resting his head on yours. “You can’t act like you care now, so stop it.”
“You think I’m fine with him fucking you?”
“Gojo…”
“Does he cum in you?”
“Yes,” you’re not trying to be mean, you’re being honest – he scowls down at you, brushing your hair back and feeling you tremble. “I’m on a pill.”
“Yeah? Taking birth control so he can fuck you?”
“Yes,” you look down nervously. “A baby right now would be insane, even if I so badly want one some day.”
He frowns a bit, looking down at you, tilting your chin up and wrapping his arm around you. “You want a baby?”
“I told you, that you don’t know anything about me, you never wanted to,” your hands close into fists over his soft shirt, gripping the material tightly. “Don’t act like you want me.”
“Act?” He laughs harshly. “The act was me pretending I didn’t want you, fuck do you really not see it?” He cups your face now with both hands, thigh pressing between yours, he’s too much – just like Sukuna, taking your breath.
Yet Satoru took your dopamine, didn’t he? He took the only bits of hope you had and crushed them, you can’t go forgetting it because he’s looking at you like this. You swallow nervously, unable to fully disentangle yourself from him, stuck in his gravity. Satoru exhales, his eyes so dark they’re black behind the shocking snowy fringe of his eyelashes.
“You think I didn’t want you? Really?”
“You said you didn’t, and you chose everyone,” you grip his wrists, both of your voices barely over a whisper. “Anyone you could get your cock inside, and I listened to it all, fuck I saw you with them, riding you in your bed, on your desk. All so I’d know that there’s no ‘us’. Right?”
He says nothing, swallowing now, his eyes coated in a little sheen of moisture, dying to yank him off but still unable to make the move.
“Why are you mad that it worked?” Satoru’s grip tightens, you suddenly feel too much in that moment, every bit of pain you’ve been keeping inside threatening to spill over. “You pushed me so fucking far to ‘spare me’. Consider me spared.”
“I didn’t…” His thumb brushes over your lower lip softly, hesitating as it moves against you, when you hear Chloe gasping.
“Satoru!”
“Jesus fuck,” he glares at her now. “Go home or something.”
“What!? What are you doing with her?”
Sukuna’s yawning in his boxers, scratching his abdomen when he sees your face cupped by Satoru, and you panic at the precarious position, sure he’ll be furious with you for not shoving him off. You’re already trembling, realizing just how deep of a disappointment you’ve become to anyone, sniffling when Gojo looks down at you.
“Fuck, you okay?” he brushes your tears and you nod, Sukuna walks up and tugs you against him, frowning.
“Brat, you’re okay. I’m not mad,” he’s gentle then, as he kisses your forehead. “You can’t make me mad.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” Sukuna sighs and hugs you closely, you rest your head against his chest. “My feelings are all over the place.”
“Yeah, gaslighting and manipulation does that shit,” he glares over your head at Satoru. “There a reason you had a death grip on her face?”
“She’s still my wife, you can’t be mad if I held her… but I was not going to hurt her if that’s what you think.”
“I think you’re trying to fuck her head up,” you sigh, hearing Chloe’s annoying voice whining. “Can you fucking uber her home before I do?”
“I can’t believe you’d talk-”
“Yeah,” you gasp, looking at Satoru now who’s sliding his phone off the counter, pressing the screen. “Time to go home sweetheart.”
“Huh!?”
Sukuna’s snorting, Satoru’s trying to get her to leave, confusing you utterly, you blink and look up at Sukuna then. “Desperate for you isn’t he? Pathetic.”
“Kuna,” he tilts your chin up carefully, heart hammering underneath your palm. “You’re not upset?”
“I’ll fuck any thoughts of him away, I’d fuck his cum out of your cunt and fill it with mine,” his words are filthy, making your heart race. “I’d fuck your throat so raw you couldn’t moan his name, but if you wanted? I’d give him to you, I’d fucking do anything for you.”
“Why? I don’t think I’m so special,” your lips are trembling, Chloe’s leaving and Sukuna’s kissing your lips. “Mmm, I want you, Kuna.”
“I know,” he lifts you by your thighs, having you wrap around him, sitting you right on the counter. “You want him too.”
“No,” you shake your head quickly, Satoru turns and eyes you both – his hands on your thighs, the way you look right at Satoru. “I can’t.”
Sukuna kisses up your neck when Satoru comes closer. “I wasn’t done talking to her yet, Sukuna.”
“You can talk while I make her cum,” Sukuna’s hand trails down your tummy, feeling it tremble underneath his sure touch. “You probably could learn how from me.”\
“I don’t need lessons,” his eyes dart across where Sukuna’s sliding your shorts to the side, exposing your cunt to him. His cheeks flush red, lips parted, his own hands trembling until he clenches them into fists. “Gonna finger my wife on my fucking counter?”
“Should ask you to lick up the mess when she’s done,” Satoru scoffs, Sukuna’s lips brush your ear, sinking two fingers in your cunt and curling them, making you cry out, Satoru moans at the sound. “Bet you would, huh?”
“Why’d y-you send her home,” you ask shakily, thighs trembling as you feel his gaze locked in on your cunt. “If you knew I was with him.”
“She was fucking annoying,” Satoru mumbles, exhaling then, while Sukuna starts fucking his fingers inside you. “So loud, huh? Your cunt, I could hear it – even louder now.”
“She gets loud for me,” Sukuna’s eyes meet yours, confusing you even moreso. “Told you he’d die to touch you.”
His words are low, just meant for your ears, moving up and down faster as you cling to the counter. Sukuna peers back at Satoru then, who’s transfixed in place, his eyes now meeting yours, fingering faster until you’re desperately clinging to his arm, cunt spasming, Sukuna’s cupping one of your breasts, a thumb brushing right over your nipple.
“Do you like watching your wife’s cunt squirt? All over me?” He asks, you’re biting down on your lip, trying to gasp for a breath, but Satoru says nothing.
His eyes just hit yours again, full of…
Desire.
*****
𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚
Imagine having to watch your wife cum on a counter with the man you’ve hated for years – that’s Satoru’s reality. One he knows he fucking deserves – shit he doesn’t even really deserve to see your cunt, even if it’s got Sukuna’s tattooed fingers inside it. All puffy from fucking, but got it’s pretty, so wet the squelch and squish is echoing, his fingers moving faster inside you.
Why do you have to look at him like that? Shouldn’t you only hate him, for all the shit he did, shouldn’t you tell him to fuck himself, to blatantly grind on Sukuna in front of him just to rub it in Satoru’s face? You’re soft still, you’re fucking sweet somehow, how do you manage to look so pretty and precious with your thighs spread on a counter in front of another man?
Satoru has been able to have any woman he’s ever wanted in his young life – he’s barely older than you by a couple years, but the differences were drastic. Before you found Sukuna and he wrecked your pretty hole, Satoru knew you hadn’t done anything at all.
I’ve n-never kissed before, I’m probably just bad at it.
Please, Satoru, just give this a chance.
It rings in his head, the fact that he could have had you first, you’d have willingly done it too, he bets all he had to do was unzip his slacks and you’d have been on your knees, serving him. You’d have done anything to please him, a pliant, sweet little thing – but you’re not now, are you?
And maybe Satoru loves seeing you like this, open about the body you were insecure and hiding, instead spreading wide, letting Sukuna shove your top up so your cute tits just stare at him. He’s so hard it’s painful, leaking so much pre he’s stuck to his damn boxers, hard to remember Sukuna’s even in the room with his fingers buried inside your hole.
What’s it feel like? Fuck he can’t even imagine how she grips, how tight she is, you’re struggling to take Sukuna’s fingers, he can see the way you’re glistening more and more slick. The way Sukuna controls you is fucking terrifying, how he murmurs something and you utterly comply, he says loosen up – you do. He says to touch your tits – you do.
He can’t tell what Sukuna’s game is, some ploy to make Satoru fucking utterly pathetic? To show him how much you belong to him, and never Satoru? Give him a hint of you just to take you away the moment he can.
Sukuna probably would give you those kids you want.
Sukuna would marry you and you’d still be rich.
A fresh start, what he knows you deserve, the whole reason he pushed you away from him in the first place – but now all he can think of is how badly he wants to bury his face between your thighs, how he just wants to finger your slick cunt until you shatter. Your eyes are rolling back in your skull, your head falling back, a sick torture to a man who can’t stop jerking it to you.
Who can’t cum without picturing that it’s you he’s fucking instead, how fucking pathetic he is without Sukuna’s game.
“C’mere,” Sukuna earns Satoru’s eye roll.
“I’m not doing shit you say.”
“Ask him to come here, if you want brat,” he murmurs to you instead, and you look at Sukuna, blushing and then looking back at Satoru.
“Come here if you want,” you whisper, Satoru damn near sprints to you like some fucking loser – hating himself more and more for what you do, hating you for whatever shit you pulled on him. Satoru’s hand brushes your thigh, tugging it open and moaning out loud at the sight of your soppy lips drooling on Sukuna.
“I know her every spot,” Sukuna smirks and leans forward, pushing his fingers up and down, up and down, over and over, Satoru’s eyeing the drooling mess of your inner thighs as he moves, and your hand clings to Satoru and Sukuna’s shoulders. “I’ve taken real good care of her.”
Satoru says nothing, too fucking lost in how gorgeous you are, he’s never been so hard, never been so leaky, he could cum watching your pleasure. He can smell that sweet arousal, making his goddamn mouth water – after having two girls fight for him, all he can think is how they’re not a goddamn thing compared to you.
Was anyone?
And here you are, close enough to smell, your skin underneath his fingers, scent filling his nostrils, his thumb brushing a hint of slick that’s leaking from your pretty pussy. Satoru who could fuck anyone, Satoru who has fucked anyone but you, choosing to send them home to watch you with someone else.
Yes, he hates you for it, for having the audacity to look utterly beautiful in the soft night lighting of the kitchen on his island, whimpering out with this throaty little sound that has him groaning himself. Sukuna’s leaned over, kissing your lips right in front of Satoru, knowing how badly he wants it – perhaps his own version of twisted fucking payback.
“Cum f’me, pretty lil brat,” Sukuna breathes those words and it’s like again some command you obey – shattering and spasming, indeed squirting all over, droplets hitting his hand as it rests on your inner thigh. “You can give me more, can’t you?”
“S’too much,” you’re clinging tighter to Satoru’s bicep, gushing mess spilling from your little cunt, thigh shaking underneath his hold, he’s so close he has to palm his cock, wincing as he watches your eyes flutter shut. Your hips buck up, his own fingers almost brushing your cute pussy, the one he can’t imagine not having. “Ah! M-messy, fuck… embarassing…”
“Hah, you know I love it,” Sukuna’s kissing you again, before he pulls his fingers back, sucking you off them and moaning.
You must taste sweet.
Satoru’s said nothing, Sukuna’s taking your hand off his shoulder now, placing it on your clit, and Satoru whines.
How can he not at that sight?
“Sukuna?” You ask faintly, looking at him curiously.
“Take some of that and have him suck it off,” Sukuna kisses you once more, looking at Satoru then. “He’ll probably cum in his pants from a taste.”
“Yeah I fuckin’ doubt all that,” he grumbles.
“Wanna suck her off my fingers?”
“Fuck no,” he takes a breath now, shaking his head. “Sure you’re not exaggerating, moaning like she’s dessert?”
“I’m not,” he kisses your swollen lips, you sigh and lean into it. “Come back to bed after he gets his little taste.”
Satoru’s eyes lock with yours, your hand trembling as it glides through your mess you’ve made. “So you squirt all over like that?”
“I guess, it is a little embarrassing,” you’re so goddamn cute.
Why do you have to be?
“I don’t eat girls out,” Satoru says, leaning close to you. “I much rather have my cock sucked.”
“So you don’t need to taste-” you’re going to close your thighs when he holds them open, stepping close.
“I want it, fuck okay? I’d… I’d lick him off you, that’s what you’re doing to me, and acting cute and shit like you’re not.”
“I have no clue what you’re on about,” you lean back now, touching your slit, just a little more open to it, meeting his eyes as you do. “Sukuna loves eating pussy.”
Satoru laughs softly. “Yeah, does he?”
“Mhm,” you slide your fingers into your stretched out hole, Satoru’s eyes almost bulge out of their fucking sockets.
****
𝖄𝖔𝖚
You’ve never done something like this.
Sukuna makes you so bold, he makes you feel sexy, like you are desired and beautiful, Satoru has made you feel terrible – unwanted, undesired, hated for just existing, hollow remnants of what it was like with your parents, with the added sting of his infidelity. Yet now he’s standing here watching you hungrily, his eyes so bright and vivid blue they hurt to look at, speaking insanity.
Why was Sukuna giving you moments with him? What did he see?
“Fingering your cunt like that, do it often?” Satoru taunts, still terrible, even underneath all that calmness, he’s about to become unhinged, his thumb brushing circles near your cunt, lips just a breath away.
“Why don’t you eat girls out, Satoru?” He pauses now, a little flush on a notorious man whore’s cheeks, you sigh as you scoop more of your slick juices all sticky from your quivering cunt.
“I don’t know I never really felt like doing it,” he answers, for the first time maybe honest. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t make you cum.”
“You think?” You’re too bold, too brave, sounding more confident than you are, pulling your fingers out and watching them drip.
He steps close to you, between your thighs, his hands on each of them, lips parted and waiting. “I know I would, sweetheart, fuck you so good you’d forget the shit I did.”
“I won’t forget,” your words are soft when you take your fingers and brush the soaking mess against his pretty pink lips. “Suck.”
“You’re ordering me?” You nod and smile, he takes your hand and rolls his eyes. “Fine let’s get it over with.”
Satoru wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking them into his hot mouth, but that’s when it all shifts – his act, the way he was so conceited, no he’s moaning and sucking every bit of your juices off your little fingers in his hot, wet mouth.. Bobbing up and down as he sucks them, leaving you breathless, your heart racing.
He pulls back with a string of saliva and moans, leaning down and licking the mess from your thigh, teeth sinking in, mouth brushing higher. Your hand entangles in his hair, gasping as he goes to the other thigh, licking you all up, like he’s completely and utterly desperate for you.
“Fuck you for tasting like that,” he whispers, lips smacking your skin, standing and hovering over you, hands squeezing brutally. “I hate that you do.”
“Better than the waitress at the party?” You ask, he laughs without humor, like he’s lost it, shaking his head and licking his lower lip, leaving it glossy.
“Yeah, better than her, even though your cunt is so goddamn slutty, so stretched out from him, huh?”
“Yeah, it is,” you smile and he helps you off the counter, leaning so low he’s almost kissing you. “Good night Satoru.”
“Good fucking night.” He leans even closer before rushing off, leaving you so goddamn confused, so breathless, walking into the room and shutting the door, laying your back against it for a moment.
Sukuna’s sitting right there, thighs spread on your bed, his cock leaking so much pre it’s coating it in white, raising a slutty brow as he studies you. “Bet he’s cumming just imagining the chance, but you’re gonna be with me tonight, aren’t you?”
‘Yes,” you walk towards him now, kneeling right between his thighs, lost and fucked up from the high of having these men want you – one, who you thought you loved and now hated, the other one you’re falling in love with.
How stretched can you be?
How many pieces can you have?
Sukuna’s tilting his head, studying your pretty face, sucking in a breath when you stroke his cock tentatively. “Why did you let him taste me?”
“I want all of you,” he whispers, as you kiss his tip lovingly, your mouth on it for the first time. “Every bit, the fucked up you, the damaged you, the parts of you that you don’t wanna see. I want them. I just fucking want you.”
“Wh-”
“Ask me why and I’ll fuck your ass tonight,” you gasp, blushing, and he just stares at you, brushing your hair back and pulling. “I want all of you.”
“I want all of you,” he moans softly – not a whimper or a whine like Satoru can be heard doing from the next room, it’s husky, dark, your tongue lapping around the reddened tip, swirling on the head of him. “Teach me what to do, Kuna.”
“Yeah, ready for that?” You nod eagerly.
“I want to please you, I want you to cum in my mouth,” you whisper, body thrumming, the exhaustion replaced by two straight hits of dopamine.
Ryomen Sukuna wanting you.
Satoru Gojo…
Did he…
Did you care?
You do, you do care and Sukuna knows it, but in this moment all you can think of is how badly you want him to fuck your throat, how you wanna choke on it, swallow it until you’re full. How you want Sukuna to fuck your pain away, make you never think of anything but how you feel.
You want to make him feel good like that.
“Please let me, Kuna.” You whisper, hand not even close to wrapping around his girth.
“You want to suck me, me first, your first?” He whispers, pulling hard on your hair now. You swallow and nod eagerly. “Then open that pretty mouth.”
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You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.
pairings - Boxer! Sukuna x Reader x Nepo baby! Gojo
warnings!!! - Heavy angst, cheating, Satoru is cruel and mean, reader starts off very shy/insecure, yandere Sukuna. This chap - oh boy please read the warnings because there is abuse In this chapter (reader's parents) physical and mental, emotions like a mf, jealous Gojo, insane obsessed ass Sukuna, p in v sex, loss of virginity, breed kink, concerning levels of obsession, cream pie, multi rounds, possessive Sukuna
This WILL have multiple endings (I get asked this so often ugh lol) a Sukuna, Gojo and a Poly. All three are gonna be messy. Told from Reader, Gojo and Kuna's POV and split up by each!- WC - 11.2k god lol
<<<part three - masterlist - part five
part four
Satoru
Does Satoru Gojo really know his wife at all?
He wonders that as the two of you walk hand in hand – a pretense to get your clearly irritated parents to leave you alone. You’re stiff next to him, and he can still remember that kiss last night, remember the way his heart almost pounded out of his fucking chest, the desire to lift you and fuck you right against any and every surface, in every room.
The way he wanted to bury himself to the hilt in a woman he so easily could have, who now doesn’t want a fucking thing to do with him. When he kissed you there was this brief moment where he thought you wanted him back, this sigh he drank up, your hands gripping his shirt for just a moment, lips parting.
Then you pulled back, furious, running off and leaving him all alone – and fuck he was alone. Jennifer was a body, Chloe was a body, he felt nothing for either of them, just distractions, helping him cum so he doesn’t desperately jerk his cock to you every day, even though it didn’t completely stop him.
Your scent always in his fucking senses, your teary eyes he imagines being that way from overstimulation instead. Never has he wanted to just bury his face in between someone’s thighs like he does you – so desperate he’d do damn near anything to taste you, to see more of that body.
What if he did that, what then? Trap you in a marriage forever when you didn’t want this either. You thought you did, but he knows it’s just what’s programmed.
The moment you’re in your parents mansion though? All that feistiness you had started was gone – suddenly you’re utterly docile, head lowered, hands clasped together as they start to rip you to shreds verbally. Small little jabs at first that start spreading, and yet you say nothing back. No slap like you do him, no nasty words in response.
This is who he met – this girl. But was it you?
“You finally look presentable,” your father says, downing that glass of wine in one gulp. “At least you did something right for once.”
“I’m sorry father…” Is all you say, Satoru watches in a mix of horror and curiosity, trying to deviate the topic.
“So, how is business?” Satoru asks, hoping they’d back off somewhat, but every few moments they pick you apart all over again.
“So, who’s going to talk about that Sukuna heir?” Your mom suddenly says, you blush furiously, looking at your untouched plate. Satoru’s fists clench at his sides, the mere mention of Sukuna makes him sick.
“I um… just like to box…”
“You’re not allowed,” she says, scowling at you over her glass. “No daughter of ours is hanging out with Sukuna.”
“He’s very nice though –”
“No,” your father cuts in now. “Look what they’re saying, already suggesting that you’re together with him? A picture of his hand on your back? Did we raise you to be a common whore?”
“Okay,” Satoru cuts in now, clearing his throat. “Let’s all just talk it out, she’ll surely watch being seen–”
“You’re a disappointment, after years of polishing,” your mom says again, cutting Satoru off. “All you have to do is be a subservient wife, why are you failing? Do you know how important being a Gojo is?”
Tears slip from your cheeks, gripping your dress tightly. “Can I please be excused for the night?”
“No,” your dad’s words are sharp. “You can continue this privately so you don’t further embarrass your husband though.”
“She’s not embarrassing me,” he cuts in, you look at him with wide eyes, shock written on your pretty, forlorn features. Of course you’re shocked – he has been nothing but cruel to you on purpose. Seeing your shock from the smallest bit of his defense makes him feel…
Like a piece of shit human.
Isn’t that what he’s been? Cruel like your parents? He thought it all for your own good – who would want to be with him, he was saving a girl like you, giving you the chance to do your own things. Yet now he lives to already regret it, knowing marks on your neck are hidden, and underneath were hickies, bites from a man he can’t stand.
If they were right about anything, it was ending up with a man like Sukuna – fucking unhinged, in and out of jail for just fighting everyone who pissed him off while in college. Sukuna was notorious for being a dick, for not giving a single fuck about anybody or anything.
Satoru’s unsure what game Sukuna is playing with you that you see anything different.
“Just allow us a moment with her,” your mom stands and he watches you tense up, eyes in horror as you look at the woman in the elegant dress, smiling so sweetly, eyes cold. “We will just have a chat then we can get dessert.”
“We’ll have drinks,” your dad pats his back, smiling at Satoru all friendly. “We’ll not make it too long.”
“I think we are leaving soon,” Satoru says, standing now, feeling apprehensive with the way they each take one of your arms in theirs, like they’re having a fun little pow wow with you. “Right, sweetheart?”
“Um yeah, we have… a movie to see…” You mumble faintly, but they’re already tugging at you.
“We’ll be fast, don’t worry!” Satoru can’t erase the look on your face from his head after that night.
*****
You
It’s quick that their demeanor drops – their fake kindness and saccharine words out of the window, throwing you down on the floor the moment the heavy wood clicks shut – and you know you’re all alone. Satoru surprised you somewhat being kind, but there was no escaping this.
Flashbacks race through your mind as you shrink into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, tears steadily falling down your cheeks as they stand over you. It’s a conditioned response you’ve had since childhood – shrink down to take up less space, make yourself harder to hit. It’s the girl they raised, the one who submits, who says sorry for every little mistake.
The girl who is never going to be perfect enough, who tries so hard.
Tired.
You’re tired.
"We raised you better than to let rumors fly about you and Ryomen Sukuna,” your father says, words cutting you. Perhaps his cruelty was worse than hers – something about your dad hurting you felt more painful. “Look me in the eyes and show respect.”
“You have me on the floor,” you whisper then, staring at him, his lips pressed in a cruel, terse line. “And speak on having respect?”
“We’re your parents, we did everything for you, have you wanted for anything!?” Your mom’s voice raises ever so slightly, as if she realizes that she lowers it, coming to kneel in front of you. "A common criminal? Are you trying to destroy the alliance we built?”
“Sukuna has his own business,” they laugh at that. “I am an adult, and I can have the friends I want.”
“Some friend, lying to my face,” she grips your hair so hard it pricks you with pain, tugging your hair at the roots. “I raised you not to lie.”
“I’m not–”
“Satoru is the most powerful man in the country, and you’re out whoring around with a jailbird?" Your father’s words burn more than the hair pulling, you look up at his angry face, a mask of feigned disinterest gone. “You’re making our family look bad because you can’t keep your legs closed.”
“I haven’t opened them – ah!” She tugs again, popping you on the mouth and making you wince at the sting.
“Keep it down, since you seem to have even Satoru Gojo falling for your pathetic little tricks.”
“Don’t hurt me,” you whisper, tugging at her wrists, brows lowering. “Get off of me.”
“I’ll do much worse if you don’t go and beg your husband’s forgiveness.” She lets go of you then stands, you get to your knees, just for your father to shove you back down.
Sukuna’s voice rings in your ears – defend yourself, do something, anything. Tell them to get fucked.
Why can’t you do it?
You disappoint your parents, Satoru and now Sukuna. You are an utter disappointment, the realization of disappointing him however hits the hardest, the way he seemed to believe in you when you don’t find yourself truly worthy of it. You take a shaky breath and stand up, hands shaking at your sides.
Could you stand up to them? Satoru was one thing – his cruelty was new, they had done it since you can remember. A trembling fear fills your body as you swallow down spit that threatens to turn into bile, acid already burning your throat, your heart is thudding even faster with every moment as they look at you with cold eyes.
“You both have no right to tell me what to do, especially when he does anything he wants.”
“He’s allowed to,” your father cuts you off once more, stepping closer, and you can’t stop shrinking back. His hits are rare but they always hurt the most. “He’s your husband, he’s a Gojo, you learn your place.”
“My place,” you laugh then, without humor, shaking your head and swiping at your eyes. “What do you mean ‘my place’. I tried with him, do you not realize it’s him who doesn’t want it?”
“Then become more desirable,” your mom cooes those words, touching your chin, making you jerk back.
“If you were fulfilling your duties he wouldn’t be as prone to be with other women, that fault lies on you. Now tell me what exactly you’re doing, running around like a slut and giving us a bad name.”
"Answer him," your mother says, sneering at you as you stay silent, your jaw clenched together so hard it hurts. It clicks when you finally loosen it, sucking a slow breath through your lips.
"I wasn't... we're just friends." Your voice trembles, barely a whisper.
"Friends? You don’t get to have friends." You shake your head once more, your mom grips your wrist tightly. The fear of the past when she’d beat you and lock you away all spill over the edge again.
Tell them to fuck off.
How, Sukuna? How can I?
"If you ever embarrass us in front of the Gojo clan again, I swear to god you’ll live to regret it.” Your mother is talking, pulling you out of that dreamy fog, the one where you think you could be happy for precious few moments. “You will fix this, will you not?”
You don’t answer fast enough.
"Answer your mother," your dad is looming over you, as you don’t speak, too hurt, too frightened, trying to fight that little girl that wants to cower in a corner, to think of something to say. To be strong.
Are you strong?
You look up, tears still swimming in your eyes, feeling the defeat crushing and overwhelming, suffocating you. "I just don’t understand-"
Crack.
The backhand comes out of nowhere, stunning you completely, heavy and brutal against your skin. His huge gold ring catches your cheekbone, and the force of it snaps your head to the side so quickly you’re dizzy. Tasting copper flooding your mouth with the warmth of the blossoming blood, your lip splitting open against your teeth.
You barely get a moment to process what’s happened when he hits you again, this time harder, and you cry out, falling right back down to your hands and knees you’re so dizzy from the sudden pain. Your blood pressure rises through the roof, the room spinning violently with the sudden pain, a loud thud hitting when you collide with the ground.
All you see are his polished dress shoes and her Monolo Blahniks.
That’s all you would see when they forced you to kneel for hours after getting a B instead of an A. All you would see when they’d tell you to show your respect, all the memories of that scared little girl forming with the woman trying her best to gain any sense of confidence, happiness, identity.
Just that girl all over again.
"Don't you dare talk back," he snaps as he looks down at you, shaking his hand out as if hitting you hurt him more than it did you. "Ungrateful little bitch. We gave you everything, and you act like a cheap slut in the papers."
What hurts worse, their words, or the hit?
"Get up," your mother says, her voice cold, staring at your bleeding lip with mild annoyance rather than concern. "Fix your face.
How can you stand? How can you do anything when this is your life? You feel tears mixing with the blood on your lips.
“Crying, all the fucking time, can’t ever-”
“The fuck is going on?” The door swings open.
Great, here comes your other bully, to humiliate you, to relish in the pathetic girl who can’t stand up for shit, right?
Satoru’s blue eyes widen when he sees you, and for the first time since you’ve known your ‘husband’ his face is… softer. It’s forlorn, the way his mouth drops open, before he shuts it and scowls at your parents, who immediately act innocent, your dad holds up a hand that has droplets of your blood on it.
“What the fuck?”
“Satoru we were helping you-”
“Helping me by hitting your daughter?” He rushes over to you, you don’t even look at him at first, until he tenderly touches your cheek, exhaling. “Hey.”
You look up, bursting into more tears when you see his expression, seeing the boy you met years ago buried inside whoever this guy was. The little glimpse that had you thinking he’d be your prince and sweep you away from this life – only to cause you more pain than your parents ever could.
Trapped between the three people who hurt you, crying.
Why can’t you do more, be more, say more?
“Say something to me, tell me to fuck off,” he whispers, assessing you to clearly check if you’re all right.
“Fuck off.” You whisper, he smirks sadly, helping you up gently, before stomping over to your father.
“You hit girls? That’s what you like to do?” He shoves him now, pressing your dad against the wall.
“You should discipline her so we don’t have to,” Satoru laughs at that, shaking his head, fist clenching at his side. “We are merely trying to teach her manners.”
“You both will be ruined forever if you touch her again.”
“But-”
“No,” he turns and shuts your mom up now, his eyes furious. “You don’t get to speak. I’ll make sure your entire family is run into the fucking ground, have you all filing bankruptcy when I expose all the shady shit you do.”
They’re suddenly quiet.
You clutch your dress, eyes taking in something that must be some fever dream – why would Gojo care if you got hit? He doesn’t care you exist. Confusion mixes with the relief and gratitude, and a deeper pain – the memory of your longing, the way you craved Satoru, the way you thought yourself in love with him.
It hurts deeper, him.
“Let’s go,” he says then, letting your dad stumble out of his hold, taking your hand in his. “She’s not yours to beat.”
“Gojo come talk-”
He stomps out of the house now, shaky breaths puffing condensation in the air of the night sky, when you pull your hand out. He looks down at you for just a moment – a painfully long moment that steals your breath away.
“Th-thanks…” You whisper, he sighs.
“Thanking me? For what?”
“For… I…” You turn then, picking up your dress, gaining as much distance as you can from him, from this house – suffocating you.
“What the fuck, come back,” you rush off, it’s so dark and you can’t see shit, but you can’t be here.
Gojo can’t comfort you.
What a joke, really, even if you’re thankful, it’s just ludicrous to take comfort in the arms of a man who helped make it worse, even as his blue eyes are filled with concern, and his hands are warm on your shoulders. It scares you then, the way he looks at you, like he could ever understand.
“Just, let me…” he brushes your cheek, you wince a bit at it, he swallows – adam’s apple bobbing. “He hit you.”
“Yeah well, he’s done it before,” you mumble, looking down, avoiding his gaze. “Just not in a while.”
“You never told me…”
“Have you ever tried to find anything out about me?” Your words land, his hand falls then, your cheek is stinging, on fire, burning from your dad’s ring splitting your skin open. “Even if it was some act or something, thanks for stopping him.”
“It was just… fucked up,” he shakes his head, jaw setting then. “My dad hit me too, but you’re just… a girl. And…” He trails off, leaving the two of you standing there in the night, in the darkness, you barely hold yourself together, hugging your own body, feeling his gaze drift.
“You shouldn’t have been hit either,” you say softly, sighing and shutting your eyes. “I may hate you but you don’t deserve it any more than I do.”
He says nothing, it’s almost pitch black aside from the stars illuminating the sky and the distant porch lights of your parents mansion, a cold place you thought once Gojo would save you from. Idiotic, idealistic thoughts that somewhat came to fruition in a sense.
In another sense, you got punished because of him.
The silence hangs heavy between you both, his eyes looking right through you, yours avoiding him, tears falling down your cheeks.
You miss Sukuna.
Sukuna would have probably punched your damn dad in the face though, fuck he may have smacked your mom too, and that would have been a debacle. Gojo handled it well and got you out of there without further word – but it all made you realize just how terrible it’ll be when you both do divorce.
You’ll always be a failure.
“If I knew I…”
“What, wouldn’t have been evil? I doubt it,” you swipe your tears now, shaking your head. “Did you think my parents were good people?”
“I didn’t know they hit their grown daughter in the fucking face, that your dad would call you that shit…” He turns a bit, disgusted. “God what he said to you, and you took it.”
“It’s true, I did fail,” Satoru’s lips part, then close. “I failed at being good enough for Satoru Gojo, the only job I ever had to do. And I failed it, utterly, completely. He’s not wrong.”
“He is wrong.”
“He’s not, I did, and I am a ‘whore’ like he said. I am with another man, and I couldn’t keep you interested. God I don’t think you even looked at me until I came home with marks, then only out of spite,” Satoru grabs your shoulders then.
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“Fucking just do it,” you do, and his tears are in his eyes, making you gasp out in shock. “I am sorry that I caused him to hit you. I’m so, so fucking sorry I caused them to hit you.”
“You didn’t–”
“Yes I fucking did,” you shake your head.
“They’d do it anyway for something, okay?”
“Has it ever been that bad?” You swallow nervously, eyes closing, tears falling and dripping down your chin. “Answer me.”
“No, never that bad, he’s never hit me that hard in the face,” you touch it gingerly. “Usually he kept it in places no one saw.”
“What?”
“We’re more alike than we thought,” you admit, sad for the boy Gojo was then. “Is that why you became so cruel?”
He says nothing.
“It’s how we were raised, who we become to an extent, but Satoru I didn’t choose cruelty, you did,” you turn away then, looking out in the distance a bit, wind whipping your hair around. “You didn’t have to be that cruel to me, just because they hurt you. You chose that.”
You go to walk and he tugs you against him, your back against his chest, arms wrapping your body, tears hot on your neck. “I’m sorry, fuck I am sorry they hurt you like that.”
“Please, don’t,” you pull off, turning to look up at him, barely able to keep his tears in, and your own won’t stop. “You don’t get to comfort me, not after what you’ve done.”
“Then who will right now?” He gently cups your face, swiping the stinging tears. “Let me do one right fucking thing for you, before you never have to see me again.”
“You did, you took me out of there,” you take a breath, shaking, lips trembling so hard you bite them to stop. “I do thank you for that, Satoru.”
Fuck.
You’ve never said that – his name. It feels odd on your lips.
“Sorry I know you told me never to call you that.” You whisper, lips trembling, wishing you could get yourself together, even as your cheek burns and your stomach feels so twisted in knots. You watch his jaw clench, the stars and moon bright and as silvery as that hair that’s usually perfect falling over a brow.
“Thanking me when I caused it?” He laughs without humor, studying you ever so carefully. “Don’t thank me. He’d have not hit your face if I didn’t do what I did.”
“I don’t know the answer to that, but what’s it matter? It’ll all be done soon, and you can go live your life, I’ll live mine.” You grip his wrists now. “But don’t act like you care suddenly, don’t play that game. That’s an even crueler one.”
He leans down too low then, kissing your cheek, both of you sobbing as you stand there together. “You’re just a girl, and you were just a kid, okay? Don’t deserve that shit.”
“I didn’t deserve you being cruel either,” he sniffles as he tries to hold back his own upset, and your eyes are swimming, barely able to see. “I don’t deserve any of this. I’ve done nothing but try, God I tried so hard just to make you like me. Even when I watched you fucking her, I still tried, I did. I wanted to be good, to not fail everyone.”
“You didn’t fail shit,” is all he says, and he holds you, letting you sob, even as you smack at his chest. “Just let me hold you for a minute, fuck… you need it.”
“Not you, not you,” you whisper, trembling, sobbing so much you’re limp, until you do snuggle to him, sighing sadly, feeling him trying, that comfort.
The longing.
The yearning for the Gojo you thought was your prince, rescuing you from a tower. Yet Gojo is damaged just like you, just like Sukuna, but he clearly couldn't handle it.
You had become the perfect, subservient girl. Sukuna apparently had a rough patch and left it all. Satoru let his vengeance and hatred for it all change him.
You're sad for that boy, but the man that's been so fucking cruel? You're still scared.
“It doesn’t change anything, but I do thank you… for stopping it.”
“Yeah,” he has no words now, he just picks you up suddenly in his arms, ignoring your protests, cradling you too delicately, like a man would on his wedding night.
Never yours though.
“Don’t carry me, I can walk.”
“Just let me.” You’re too tired to argue, when he sets you in the limo, and he keeps holding you.
You’re too exhausted and weak to stop him from putting an ice pack on your cheek once you're home, from cleaning the cut carefully. You both say nothing for a while, an odd silence falling over two people that hate each other – two people who lived the same lives, and ended up so different.
One, too cruel. One, too kind.
One, too strong. One, too weak.
Yet here you both were – mirror images of the same life, the same abusive streak, quietly not hating each other for a few moments. When he takes you to bed, he still hasn’t said a word, and you should let him go to bed, not try to reach out, to know better than forgive what he’s done.
You don’t forgive it, but for a moment you get him just a bit, and maybe Satoru gets you.
“Satoru,” he turns, looking to you with sad blue eyes, as you fiddle a bit with the big sweater he through on you. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me for shit.” His words are harsh, the pain in them prevalent, the two of you quiet.
“I will, because you didn’t have to interfere,” your eyes meet his, and your heart breaks for who he could be – a man righting wrongs, maybe with a heart in there.
Are you foolish? Do you just want to see good in someone, or do you see those parts of yourself buried within him.
“I wish I could know the Satoru Gojo that stood up for me tonight, but I won’t get to. So I just hope you show that to the next girl, the one who has your heart. Don’t hide it with whatever narcissistic bullshit you did with me.”
He says nothing again, sighing, fingers tapping at the sides on his thighs. “You’re too nice,” he says, gripping your door handle tightly, not looking at you. “I'll make sure they never hit you again. Even after we separate.”
You blink a bit. “You can't promise that.”
“I'll ruin their reputations and make sure they never do that shit again, that's what they care about anyway.” You just look down at your lap, at the ribbons and lace on the edge of the sweater. “Think I don't wanna take them down with my own family?”
“Well I guess I wish you some luck in that,” you admit, laying down, feeling his gaze on you. “It was nice having a night where you weren't…”
“Fucking terrible?”
“Yeah,” you yawn a bit, eyes suddenly heavy. “You didn't deserve it either. Being a boy doesn't make you somehow tougher.”
Satoru's footsteps fade, the door shuts, leaving you alone, when your phone rings.
Sukuna.
You barely are able to answer it then without sobbing all over.
“Sukuna?”
“I felt something went wrong, you never wrote to me, I sound like a simpy little bitch. And… are you… what happened!?”
“I'll tell you when I see you okay?” You swallow nervously, gingerly touching your own cheek with cool fingers. “But let’s just say it was a bad night.”
There’s a long pause. “Did he fucking do something?”
“He was oddly kind, it was my… dad…”
It's quiet then, you suck in a breath, eyes shut, waiting for him to speak.
“I'm coming the fuck over.” You blink.
“You can't! You're out of town and I'm okay.”
His sigh hurts your heart and soul, longing for a person you don’t know well yet filling you. You want him to hold you, kiss you, tell you the world is just gone and it’s you two. “Then you're coming over tomorrow.”
“I think I can do that… we just have to be careful.” Your voice is ever so soft, barely over a whisper through the phone.
“Maybe I just want to hold you, think of that?”
“Yeah? Just hold me?” You yawn then, eyes fluttering shut. “Won’t you kiss me too?”
“You're sleepy,” you nod, knowing he can't see, snuggling up. “Then just… fucking keep me on until you crash. Will you just do that?”
“Mhm,” you fade, listening to him, your body hurting, your heart torn, tummy still aching with the nausea from what happened. “Night Kuna.”
You think he says it back.
The dreams are haunting, Sukuna tugging you against him, Satoru on his knees crying. And for once you don't hate Satoru, you feel bad for the boy he is, his head in your lap, Sukuna's buried against your neck.
It's blissful.
Then they tug.
Tug, tug, tug at you, Satoru dragging you down, Sukuna pulling you up.
Can you not break apart?
*****
Sukuna
It takes almost nothing to find your home.
First off, Satoru was basically public knowledge – second off, the ostentatious mansion was utterly ridiculous. His fists bang on the door rather than pressing the little ring system, he’d rushed to get home as soon as he heard your voice last night. It had him sick to his stomach just wondering what the fuck Gojo was doing – but to know your fuck ass parents were near you too?
It’s more and more tempting to kidnap you, steal you away from him and everyone, hide you from whoever the fuck thought they had some claim on you. Especially toxic ideas swim in his mind, keeping you where no one would find you, making sure you’re nice and occupied.
Sukuna never even thought of kids until he pictured how pretty you’d be knocked up with his babies, give you so many you can make your own little family and forget what the fuck you know. His fist bangs on the door once more, finally getting opened up by a butler raising a brow.
Of course Satoru would have a butler.
Sukuna was almost as rich, but he can’t even imagine that shit, though it sort of fits with ‘pretty boy satoru’ as they all used to call him. He enjoyed the finer things a little too much for someone trying to fight so hard not to do what his parents said. It’s not even the fact that he doesn’t wanna be with you, that’s to Sukuna’s benefit – it’s the way he’s dragging you down.
If he wanted to, he could just let you go.
Sukuna knows he’s obsessed, psychotic for a girl he barely knows, but even now all he can think of is decking Satoru in the face, throwing you over his shoulder and making you live with him instead. He knows what he likes and he knows it’s you, since the moment he saw you in the door of his gym.
“Where’s your Nepo baby boss?” Sukuna asks, smirking all mean when Satoru stomps over, glaring. “Hey best buddy.”
“The fuck are you doing here?” He demands, Sukuna side steps the butler, grinning right at him, just an inch taller than Gojo, but it was enough to make him happy.
“Checking in on our girl,” Satoru scoffs, gripping Sukuna’s wrist when he goes to pat his cheek. “Ours for now, that is. Hope you’ve got your lawyers on it, yeah? Or that all talk?”
“You have no right to be in my fucking house, or talking to my wife.”
“Your wife?” Sukuna laughs now, smacking his thigh, when a girl walks right up to the porch behind him. He looks at her curiously, Satoru sighs.
“What are you doing here, Jennifer? I said not today.”
“But Satoru,” she runs up to him now, Sukuna snorts as he sees her hugging on Satoru, a slutty mess with a dumb fucking secretary costume. Surely she can’t be actually wearing that shit to work? “I missed you!”
“Not now,” he says tersely, shoving her wrists off him. Sukuna's red eyes narrow, lips curved up in a smirk.
“This is your mistress, right?”
“Sukuna get the fuck out,” Satoru steps past the pouty girl. “Seriously.”
“Over her,” his words smack Satoru clearly, he watches his blue eyes lower just a bit. “You’re fuckin’ serious? Over her?”
“You don’t know shit,” he opens his mouth just as you walk out, and when Sukuna sees your face, his heart fucking pounds, anger swelling up at the sight of bruising on your cheek, darkness under an eye. Satoru looks right at you too, as you pause, taking the three of them in, before landing on him.
“Sukuna?” Your words are soft, fiddling with your hands just a bit in front of yourself, blinking glassy eyes. “You’re here?”
He ignores whatever protest Satoru was saying, ignores that average ass secretary that’s almost laughable as a preference over you, all he sees is your bruised face. He cups it gently, glaring across your features, your little hands grip his wrists, shaky and trembling, tears slipping on your cheek.
“The fuck did they do?” He demands, teeth clenched now. “What’s their goddamn address?”
“You can’t! Sukuna…”
“What’s their address? I just wanna talk,” you sigh, shaking your head, earning his glare. “I’m serious. I’ll look it up.”
“You can’t make things worse, please,” you’re already shaking even more, your breaths coming quicker and quicker. “Please don’t do anything. I know they’re already so mad at me.”
“Can’t be mad if they’re buried.”
“Sukuna!”
He raises his brows. “You’d miss those fucks, really?”
“You need to go,” Satoru says then, stepping between you both, pushing Sukuna back. “I took care of her just fine.”
“Oh did you!? Then why the fuck does she have a black eye?” Sukuna shoves Satoru, who shoves him right back, until the two of them damn near kill each other.
“Please don’t fight,” you murmur softly, They freeze at your quiet words, turning to look at you. The sight of you all bruised, emotional and pleading making them both quiet for just a moment, the tension and hatred radiating in the air. “Gojo did help, I promise.”
“Doesn’t change shit about him,” Sukuna shoves Satoru one last time, sending him stumbling into the counter with a clatter of dishes, Jennifer is panicking, annoying as fuck in Sukuna’s ear. “Don’t you deserve your face rearranged?”
“You’ll make it worse for her, you don’t understand them.”
“Don’t I?” Satoru runs a hand through his hair, looking at you.
That’s when Sukuna sees it.
In no world does Satoru not want you – written all over his dumb fucking face. For you not to know clearly just showed how deep your insecurities ran, because there’s no denying the love struck, down bad, wanna be pussy drunk off you – expression Satoru Gojo wears. Sukuna knew it was bullshit anyway, but to actively see proof of his longing makes him furious.
He gets it, he barely knows you but to think of another man’s hands on your pretty body, especially this arrogant, cocky little shit? It makes him nauseous. Furious. Sick.
“I will handle them, not like it’s any of your business,” Satoru says, his focus still locked on you, but your own gaze had shifted, landing on the woman now framed in the kitchen doorway.
“Couldn’t last a day without her?” You ask, your voice suddenly cold, just the sound of the strength in it makes Sukuna ache – even as Satoru tenses up from it. “Even right now? After everything I went through I have to see that?”
“I didn’t ask her –”
“Baby what happened to your face?” She runs up, gasping and cupping her face. “Mrs. Gojo, are you okay?”
Sukuna contemplates hitting a woman, he wouldn’t feel bad but he’d definitely do jail time – jail time meant less of you.
“Come home with me for the night,” you blush furiously, head down now, biting on your lip. “You don’t need to see them tonight.”
“Jennifer isn’t staying –”
“But SATORU I just really need you!” She’s clinging to him again, Sukuna would almost feel sorry if it wasn’t perfect, for him to have a dumb psycho clinger who’s half as attractive as his own wife.
A wife Sukuna plans on taking.
Giving you his name so he never has to hear ‘Mrs. Gojo’ again.
Psychotic thoughts, but there they are, swirling in his mind, images flitting of fucking you on the way to your honeymoon, taking you against a wall at the reception. No way he doesn’t just constantly fuck your pretty cunt once he finally gets a chance.
“You’re not going with him,” Satoru takes your wrist now, Sukuna flings it off, glaring at the blue eyed freak. “Sukuna get the fuck out.”
“How can you tell me not to?” You ask then, raising a brow. “With all you do, what right do you have?”
“You don’t know him,” he leans low, words quiet, Sukuna watches you step back, losing that nerve he’s worked hard for you to build up. “You don’t know shit about Sukuna. You can’t go with him.”
“I will,” you murmur then, looking back up to meet his eyes. Sukuna smiles, pride filling his eyes as he watches your fists clench. “I’ll be careful so I don’t… piss them off more.”
“Careful? They’re all the fuck over this place,” he shakes his head now.
“I’ll get her out without being seen,” Satoru scowls over at him, his hands on your shoulders, The sight made Sukuna want to rip those arms the fuck off and beat him with them. “I’ll take good care of her, better than you have. What kind of man sees this happen and just what… gives them a good talking to?”
“You think I didn’t wanna beat him?”
“Him,” Sukuna frowns, then looks at you, realization dawning all over his face. “Your dad did that shit?”
“Yes, um,” you take Sukuna’s hand now, so small compared to one of his massive ones it swallows it. “I’m going with him for tonight Okay?”
Satoru says nothing.
“Not okay I mean… I am. I am going. I appreciate last night, but that doesn’t mean we’re suddenly good, and it certainly doesn’t mean I’m going to have you locking me up and making me listen to you two fuck all night.”
Sukuna snorts.
Jennifer gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in feigned horror. “Satoru, you’ll let her talk to you like that?”
“Shut up god,” he grumbles, earning her lips trembling, dramatic crying ensues without a single tear. Sukuna grimaces in disgust.
“Even you could probably do better, fuckboy,” you tug at his hand, shaking your head. “What?”
“Don’t be mean to her,” you murmur, looking down then. “Won’t make anything better.”
“Oh it will, let me just get a couple jokes in and maybe punch-”
“Sukuna,” you cut him off now, stepping closer. His heart breaks at your pretty face beat the fuck up like that, your tears that are always in your pretty eyes.
Do you ever get a fucking break?
“I’ll go with you,” you say softly, looking at Gojo then. “I’m going.”
“Yeah,” he laughs without humor, hands in his pockets, eyeing Sukuna levelly, hatred just radiating. Sukuna grins right back at him, deepening Satoru’s scowl. “Have her back tonight.”
“Nah, the morning though,” you blush even under your bruises, burying your face against his shoulder. “If she wants to come back. If not? I don’t give a fuck what you threaten, I won’t bring her.”
“You really think you know her, that you have some claim on her?” Satoru demands, blue eyes narrowing in on him.
“And what, you do? Don’t you want ‘anyone but her’?”
It’s quiet, Satoru’s mouth shuts, you tense against him, he feels how tightly you’re holding his arm. “You don’t know shit, Sukuna.”
“You’re dumb as shit, Satoru,” he hugs you against him tightly. “Letting her go? Should thank you for being a fucking idiot.”
“She’s still my wife.”
*****
You
“For now, she’ll come back when she wants, not gonna control her any fucking more, any of you. Dumb ass parents, I don’t care. They can come for me, too.” Satoru says nothing, but you feel the weight of his stare, when you look behind your shoulder, and his eyes are devastated.
Was there more to Gojo?
Did you really want to know, anymore? Could you handle that, when he has Jennifer running up to him, the woman he said – wait, let me cum first – and you had to listen to it? You can’t just forgive him – that’s what the old you would do. Give up, forgive, try to please, all the things you did as a daughter.
Not anymore. You turn away, ignoring the burning gaze against your back, breathing the air when Sukuna sneaks you in his car quickly, and tugs you in for a kiss, brutal at first, before you suck in a breath of pain. He pauses, pulling back, his thumb touching your lip carefully.
“Don’t stop,” you whisper. “I want you.”
“Don’t say that shit,” he kisses you again, hungry and mean, hand tugging your body against his chest. “I’ll fuck you right in front of the Gojo mansion, huh? See his dumb, creepy ass blue eyes cry.”
“Insane,” you giggle though, brightening your face, Sukuna’s expression softens at it, swallowing. His adam’s apple bobs up and down when he brushes your hair back. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did, brat wouldn’t tell me what happened, tsk…” You’re met with another kiss, before he pulls back and starts the car. “I want you to let me know who I have to beat to death.”
Sukuna Ryomen was just a little insane. But you’re pretty sure you love that.
“Can I sleep on your shoulder?” You ask softly, he just nods, and you rest your uninjured cheek, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m so exhausted.”
“You can sleep the whole time you’re there.”
“I didn’t uh… bring clothes to stay all night.”
“Then you’ll just have to be naked.”
“Sukuna!” He chuckles, before sighing, an arm tugging you closer, his lips brushing your temple.
“What do you do to me, huh?” You’re too comfortable to respond.
*****
When you come to, you’re being carried into Sukuna’s penthouse, you cling tightly to his neck and yawn, stirring a bit, he curses then when he sees Yuuji, with a bag slung over his shoulder.
“Kid, what are you doing here?”
“Just needed some things I… oh shit…” Sukuna eases you down, Yuuji frowns and runs toward you, sweet brown eyes shimmering with tears. “What happened?”
“A long story,” his fingers hover over your face.
“Let me put this down, I’ll get some ice?”
“No, no, I’m okay,” you take his hand in yours, smiling sadly. “Don’t worry for me, promise it’s fine.”
Yuuji looks over your head at Sukuna, you can all but feel the way they communicate ever so quietly, his fingers wrapping yours now. “If something happens and Sukuna isn’t in town, I will get you.”
“You don’t need to-”
“I will.” He says it more firm now. “Sukuna can give you my number, right? If you ever need me.”
“Yuuji you’re too sweet for this world,” Sukuna is quiet when you kiss Yuuji’s cheek, emotions making your throat close up. “I really appreciate you.”
You’re crying before you can stop it.
Someone caring like this, for you? It’s almost too much, you’re such a wreck Yuuji gives you a little hug, patting your back. “It’s nothing, really. Now don’t hug me too long he’ll get mad at me.”
You manage a shaky smile, when Yuji murmurs to Sukuna, you can’t hear, instead turning and waving to him when he leaves. “I feel so bad, to worry him.”
“The kid just cares,” his voice is gruff now. He reaches out, cupping your uninjured cheek in one of his big hands. His touch impossibly gentle as he strokes the skin there, trying his best not to hurt you. His eyes drop to the angry bruise marring the other side of your face, red eyes darkening as they study you.
“He’s dead,” Sukuna watches your eyelashes tremble, little tears forming droplets on them. “Your dad, I'll fucking kill him. Then beat your dumb fucking husband.”
You suck in a breath. “Sukuna, don’t say that. I'm okay.”
“You're not,” he cuts you off, hands slipping down your shoulders, feeling you shivering, rage fucking filling him. “I am tired of you getting abused and I just met you.”
“Abused…”
“That’s the goddamn term, y’know that right?” You shake your head, earning his sigh. “Aren't you tired of it?”
That question.
Aren't you tired of it?
You nod just a bit, feeling him tug you closer, dragging your body against his, a hand on the small of your back. You feel everything bubbling over the surface, the memories of the cruelty of Satoru, the cruelty of your parents.
“I am tired, fuck I'm tired,” You're barely holding it back, breaths coming faster, hands gripping his shirt. “I'm so tired of it. Of trying to be perfect and failing. All I do is fail.”
“No, they failed,” he tilts your chin up. “Failed fuck ass parents, shitty failed husband. You didn't fail shit.”
“But here I am, with you, I'm not there being perfect. I'm being selfish, wanting you, wanting this. To be consumed by you,” he eases back, lips parted. “This isn't just fun to me and I don't do it lightly. I know the position I'm putting you in and I feel horrible.”
“Don't,” he whispers, voice hoarse, breath dancing along your lips. “No one touches you.”
You lick your lips, drawing his gaze to them. “Sukuna…”
“No one, ever again.” He leans in closer, his face now just an inch from yours, stealing your very breath from your lungs. “Just let me take care of them.”
“Take care of them,” your heart hammers in your chest at the insinuation, your hands slipping slowly up his chest. “I don’t want you having to do that, get involved in this mess that’s my life more than you already are.”
“Too late,” you laugh, breathless then.
“Too late? You’re insane, Ryomen Sukuna. You know that?” You brush your lips on his, tentatively, but it’s over for him once you do, walking you back against the wall, lifting you in his arms like it’s nothing. You exhale into his mouth, letting his huge hands take you over. “Mnh…”
“The sounds you fuckin’ make,” he kisses down your neck, teeth sinking in, earning your gasp in his ear. “Fuck I want to mark every inch of you. Have him see what he fucked up on.”
“He doesn’t –”
“Oh, he does,” he pulls back, smirking at you, his face is dangerous then, a deadly look in his eyes that ruins you. “He wants you so goddamn bad it’s pathetic, I looked right at him today.”
You blink in confusion. “If he does at all, it’s because you want me, not because of anything else.”
“Yeah I wish that were true,” he sighs, kissing you again, careful not to hurt you, the effort making him shake. “It’s written all over his face, but for whatever dumb fucking reason he has, I’m glad he doesn’t touch you. I couldn’t fucking handle it.”
“He kissed me…” Sukuna’s hold tightens, you squeak damn near. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you. It was like… some power play.”
“Then I’ll fuck away the memory of it,” you’re blushing when he carries you to his room, laying you right on his bed, spreading your thighs and sinking his heavy weight over you. “If you don’t tell me to stop right now…”
Your mind is reeling, still so dizzy and conflicted from the past couple of days – was it a toxic part of you that felt bad for Satoru? After all he’d done, and likely what he still was doing, but knowing all he’d been through, some part of you still feels guilty underneath Sukuna.
Another part of you feels so fucking good underneath this man. The way he looks at you – like there’s nothing else, utterly consumed, his kisses igniting your entire body on fire, sucking your breath with the intensity of them. It feels right like this, it feels like you can’t get enough of each other, it’s as if Sukuna just knows you.
No one knows you – even yourself – but he does. He sees you, the tired heiress trying to be perfect and hurting, sees more than what everyone has always perceived you to be. It’s insanity when you’re rolling your hips, feeling his cock pressing right over your clothed cunt, dripping through the thin cotton until it’s sticky, aching and throbbing for more.
“Mmm, stop me,” he says again, leaned up on his hands now, you cup his face, tracing the tattoo running down his neck, watching his pink lashes flutter. “Don’t be all cute and shit, I’ll throw your ass in a mating press.”
“Sukuna what?” You giggle at him, he’s very serious though.
“A full nelson, after your first time,” you’re laughing against his lips, arching up for more of him. “First time should be missionary, yeah?”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, isn’t full nelson… mmm… like a wrestling move?” He chuckles, kissing your nose for just a moment, leaning up to slide a thigh between yours, pressure having your eyes flutter shut.
“You’re too fucking cute, I’ll corrupt you if you don’t stop me,” his voice darkens then, eyes almost black with lust, you suck in a breath as your cunt drools down his well muscled thigh. “I will not feel bad about it, either, fucking your cunt and pumping it so full.”
Your answer is a soft, desperate whine, one of his hands tilting your chin up with two fingers, breath ghosting your lips.
“I’ll burn everything to the ground for you,” his words are insanity – met with his face, furious, possessive eyes that steal your breath.
“Burn everything?” You whisper, lost in his eyes – that red ring around pitch obsidian, his devious, insane fucking grin.
“I’ll kill anyone who ever made you cry. I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you the wrong way, once you’re all mine, think I care if they’re your parents?”
“You c-can’t mean all that,” you shake your head, clutching even tighter. “You don’t hardly know me, what if I… what if I…” You suck in a breath, tears swimming and blurring your vision. “What if I disappoint you?”
“You couldn’t,” his voice is softer, his expression growing serious. “You could not disappoint me.”
“You don’t know it, I feel it’s all I do.”
“That’s them,” Sukuna’s hands slip up your sides, easing your top off over your head carefully, moaning at the sight of your tits bouncing right out. “I’ll fuck any memory of it out, fuck you so hard all you can do is babble, drool. Not think a single thing in your pretty head.”
Fuck.
“You want it?” He asks then, voice a low rumble, his hair falling ever so slightly over his brow, huge frame hovering on top of you. “Do you want me to make it all go away for you?”
“Yes,” your answer is clearly enough for him, he slips off his shirt, showing those tensed muscles, the tattoos curving right with his body. You run your fingers down them, but he grabs your hand.
“Touch yourself,” you blush even now, even half naked with him, as he slips down your pants, tugging them off and leaving you in just your panties, hair splayed out all over the silk pillows that smell like him. “Show me what you learned.”
You slip your fingers over the ruined material of soaked panties, ever so softly pressing up in the fabric, soft whine drank from his lips. The pain from your lip makes you hiss, he pulls off and runs a thumb across the mark.
“I’ll kill them,” he says again – and you believe him. You believe him when he positions himself lower, sucking one of your nipples into his hot, eager mouth, making your back arch. “Should fill you with me, all of me, until you don’t want to leave.”
“Ah!” He’s kissing lower, hands bruising in their grip of your waist, tongue licking a filthy trail down your stomach.
“How can you leave if you can’t walk, huh? Pretty little brat,” he whispers, your hand still running circles when he’s even lower, pressing them more firmly where they need to be. “Good girl.”
"Sukuna, please," you whimper, your fingers leaving your soppy cunt and tangling in his hair, pulling at the pink strands. “Please, I need you.”
With a slow, deliberate tug, he removes the barrier of your panties, the fabric tearing away easily, the cool air hits your wet heat for a split second before his fingers are there, so warm and rough, sliding through your slick folds.
"So fucking wet for me," he groans out those words, his gaze fixed on where his fingers are playing with you, sliding up and making your clit twitch in response. He circles your clit with a precision that steals your breath, your hips bucking up to chase the sensation. "Look at you, dripping. All for me."
“All you, ngh!” He’s nudging your thighs apart with broad shoulders, the heat of his skin seeping through your inner thighs, his tongue licking from your ass all the way to your clit. “Sukuna, want more. Want you inside.”
“Fuck,” you can see him rutting his cock on the matress, glaring up at you even with your slick on his mouth. “Don’t test my patience, brat. I’ll fucking break you if I put it in like this.”
“I want it,” he shakes his head, dragging you by your ass to his mouth, tongue slipping in your hole, feeling it quiver around his wet muscle. “Kuna…”
“Mmph,” he lifts his head again, running two fingers and sinking them in, watching your swollen folds suck them greedy. “Your first time, and you’re all slutty like this?”
“Shh,” you touch his lips, he nips your finger, looking at you as he curls his thick digits in your hole – moving up and down at a maddening pace, the pressure so much you feel dizzy. “Don’t be mean.”
“To you? Hah,” he flicks his tongue, groaning as you gush down his face. “This is sweet for me. Only for you.”
His words and his tongue fucking end you too quick, you barely have time to arch your hips and he hits your spot, making you gush syrupy arousal all down him. “Lemme suck you please.”
“Your lip hurts,” his words are surprisingly gentle, when he sucks your clit in his mouth and hums, drawing every bit of pleasure from your body. “Not tonight.”
“See? Mean,” he chuckles, standing and removing his pants, you blush when you look at him fully, he’s massive, his cock so thick and heavy, veins wrapping around the length of it. “Oh…”
“Oh,” he chuckles at your cute little expression, kneeling back over you, dragging you by your thighs down to the center of your bed, the way he handles you is addictive, but the way he looks at you is life ruining. “Sure you can take it, tiny little cunt, never been fucked.”
“I wanna try,” you whisper, whining out when his fat leaky cockhead brushes down your slit, pressing into your hole and making you gasp out. “Ah!”
“Last chance,” he says it through gritted teeth, hovering over you, his weight heavy on your body. “I won’t go easy on you once you get used to my shape. I’ll fuck you every position, fuck my loads of cum right back inside.”
You’re spasming just around his tip, he pauses and hovers over you, even now wanting you to make the decision. As dominant as he is, you are the initiator in all of your encounters. Sukuna clearly wants you to show that side of yourself.
You reach a hand down, wrapping a fist around his cock and pressing in, whining out in pleasure and pain as he slips further. “That's it, taking what you want. Good girl.”
He lifts a thigh, your nails press into his biceps, gasping when there is a prick of pain. He pauses again, looking at your face, brows lowering, cock pulsing already.
“Touch yourself again,” he orders softly, you reach down and rub your clit as he eases back out, then presses in once more. You're so full of him, you feel him everywhere. “Breathe, you can take me.”
You exhale, eyes locking with his, cunt struggling to fit his massive cock, but every little circle of your clit and his kisses, his touches, have you taking more. “So big you’re… s'big I j-just… feel…”
Sukuna shoves his cock in half way, your hips buck up, finger slipping with how wet you are, gasping as his cock stretches your walls. He barely moves at first, breaths coming in heavy, kissing down your neck, your cheek, pulling out and making you feel so empty before shoving his cock inside you fully.
“Kuna! Ngh!” You're drunk off the first few strokes, achingly slow, pumping your cunt so full, stretching her out. Sukuna groans and leans back, eyeing your cunt now, moaning and sinking his fingers into your hips.
“Look at that, hah,” his eyes are so black they're insane, his grin psychotic as he sees the way his cock moves in your pelvis. “Filling you up like this, hitting that cervix. Didn't I promise to… hah, bruise it?”
You can only nod and roll your eyes back when he does just that, pressing into your cervix and just rolling his hips. “Ah!”
“Fuck you're so tight,” he pauses now, exhaling. “Fit so perfect though, she's taking me so well. Like it's made for it.”
The praise and the way he looks at you is overwhelming, tears slipping from your eyes a mix of pleasure and so much more you can't even describe. He thumbs your clit now, eyes watching where he's splitting you open on his cock, you blush when you see just a hint of blood.
“I'm um… it's… mnh!” Sukuna thrusts hard, taking the bit of blood on his thumb and just lapping it up, it makes his lips crimson, you suck in a breath when he leans back down. His long pink tongue laps the remnants of your long gone innocence off his lower lip. “Kuna…”
“Can you take more?” He whispers, husky and hoarse, you nod eagerly. "Gonna ruin you for anyone else." That's when Sukuna loses the gentleness, the ease. Once he can feel your cunt has accommodated his shape, he moves.
He grips the plush of your thighs, pushing your knees up toward your chest to angle himself deeper, and bottoms out as much as he can in your snug little hole. The wet slap of his heavy balls against your ass where all the wetness is pooling echoes obscenely in the room, mixed with your desperate little cries, his gutteral moans.
The angle pushes him right on your cervix, and when he presses you can already feel yourself getting close. You’re so full, never having had more than his fingers, to have his girthy nine inches just buried inside your puffy cunt was almost too much. The stretch burns, an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you dizzy, your walls fluttering helplessly around him, pushing him to thicken more.
"Fuck, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” you blink back emotions when he leans down, pressing your knees parallel with your head, folding you right in half. “Cum, pretty little brat, cum f’me yeah? Let go."
Let go.
The words mean more than his cock breaking you, the way he cups your face even as he slams his cock so deep you see stars, and you shatter for him, cumming so hard you’re blinded, dizzy and almost faint from it. It hits so hard you can’t think, he lets your thighs down just a bit, driving into you harder, gripping your hand tight and lacing your fingers together.
He pauses for a moment, to get a breath, you’re pinned against the mattress under his weight, maybe the only thing keeping you tethered to earth while he fucks every thought right out of your head.
“Kiss me again, please,” you whisper, but he’s already lowering his mouth for you, so intimate when he slows his pace, getting close. His mouth is swallowing your gasps, kissing you messy and deep.
“M’gonna fill your cunt up, can you take it all?” You nod and he pulls back, leaned up on a hand, the other gripping one of your tits, littered with marks from his mouth. “Fill you up so full of me, drip me all out in his dumb fuckin’ mansion, huh?”
Sukuna is insane.
Sukuna’s cumming inside you, throbbing and pouring white ropes and flooding you, tongues messy and slipping together over and over. You’re flooded with his warmth, pushing you to shatter again, a lighter, softer orgasm that leaves you a sweaty, desperate little mess. He’s lapping the salty slick of that sheen of sweat off the crook of your neck, slowing down his movements.
The reality of what you’ve done should hit, right? That you lost your virginity to Sukuna, that his cum is inside you, that you’re married. Yet you can’t find it in your heart to feel bad, not when he looks at you like that, when he whispers your name with filthy little declarations of affection.
Your first time is with Ryomen Sukuna.
*****
Sukuna
You’re trembling underneath his heavy weight, breaths coming in shallow pants as he eases out his cock that’s coated in your slick, tinges of red and swirls of white. He parts your thighs and moans at the sight of how much of his cum you took, oozing from your wrecked hole, so much that floods out. He exhales, fingers trailing across puffy lips, making your hips jolt up.
“Ah!” He pauses, concern all over his features.
“Did I hurt you? Tiny little cunt, she took too much, huh?” He murmurs, struggling not to be too vulnerable with you, but how can he not be, when you’re like this? Trusting him to be your first.
He hasn’t even been someone’s first, has he already fucked it up, went too hard on you? Has he -
You drag him down for a kiss, leaning up on your elbow now, hair falling off your shoulders. Your lips still coated in just a hint of blood, he swipes it off with his tongue, making them glossy, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. Lost in your eyes, hating the fact that you’d be back with him tomorrow.
Sukuna couldn’t handle not knowing what happens when you’re there, what he’s filling your head with, what they are filling your head with. When all he wants is you to be fucked out, full of cum, giggling and punching at him with your cute little pink gloves. Is that really so much to ask for? To crave?
You, he craves you, all of you.
“I’m good,” you say softly, as if reading his mind just a bit. You’d be scared if you knew all he wanted. “I thought it would hurt so bad the first time from what all my friends said, and my mother. I thought it was like… lay there and deal with it.”
Sukuna frowns at that, seeing your lip quiver just a bit, before you catch it with your teeth.
“It was amazing,” you whisper, kissing him once more. “You didn’t hurt me, even if I am a little sore.”
“Good, you took it perfect,” you blush now, the color mixing with that slight purple bruising that still makes him furious, his hands cupping your breasts, making you shift your thighs just a bit. “You sure you’re all right?”
“I just want to focus on this,” you whisper, hand on his chest, feeling his heart against your palm. “Just this. Have you take it all away.”
Sukuna kisses you again, this time it’s even more desperate, his entire body shaking with his attempt to be just a little ‘gentle’ with you, when he wants to put you in every position he can. This feeling of not knowing how long he has with you, how long he’ll get this, see you in this way, filling him with an even more desperate need, you’re reaching down to stroke his cock now, ending him.
“I'm not done with you tonight brat,” Sukuna flips you over on all fours suddenly his fingers shoved in your messy cunt, moaning when he feels her clamping down on his digits. “Not close to done.”
Your answer is to arch for more, reaching a hand back for him to pin your wrist down. You're quivering around his cock when he eases it back in, watching the white cum leaking from your abused hole, reddened tip collecting it like nectar and pushing it back in.
“Gonna plug up all this cum so it can't leave,” he tightens his grip, heavy weight over you, lips against the shell of your ear. “Do you want that, pretty little brat? Me to fill you again?”
“Yes,” your eyes meet his, dazed and fucked out. “I want it.”
“So fucking beautiful, what did you do to me,” he still doesn't know what you do when you look at him like that. All you can answer is a soft cry, a kiss where your lip busts back open, and he licks the copper blood like he did your innocence.
When he pulls back your lips are swollen, crimson staining them, eyes all glossy as you clamp down. At that moment Sukuna knows he can never let you go.
When he fills your cunt from the back and his heavy balls smack your clit, when he pumps more cum inside your hole, he doesn't think he can ever let you go. How can he even let you go back?
You're not his yet.
That's unacceptable.
So he makes sure to fill you again, more cum flooding you, until you're getting cleaned up. Until he makes sure you eat even though you're dazed and fucked out. Until you're in one of his shirts that swallows you, and he's taking you to his bed, holding you against him.
Sukuna stays up just to watch you sleep, brushing your hair back and scowling at your phone that keeps going off.
Texts from Gojo.
He places your finger gently to unlock it – he doesn't feel bad about it. Not when you're meant to be his.
Just let me know you're okay, fuck…
I know that you hate me but I need to know if you're all right.
Please just answer me, I thought we… I thought maybe… never mind.
Sukuna is dangerous, okay? Could you just answer.
Jennifer isn't here if you want to come home tonight.
Fuck it, he can come too, just let me see you.
I mean… I mean fuck him, fuck this. Just ignore that shit. Good night.
Sukuna frowns at them, contemplating deleting them all for a brief moment, before stopping himself. He studies your face carefully in your sleep.
Was there something between you and Satoru?Sukuna can't say it will stop him – no, he'd do anything for you. Including getting your parents info and sending it to himself, smirking just a little bit. He wasn't a pro boxer for nothing – he can't wait to beat your dad unconscious.
You may be mad about it, but he knows what's best for you.
Patreon for more exclusive fics - Kofi link for commissions <3
If anyone talks shit about my damn reader I may crash out, she's trying her damn best my baby </3 also if anyone says finally I may lose it as well. ahaha I hope you all enjoyed this!!! we have a LONG way to go
You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.
pairings - Boxer! Sukunax Reader x Nepo baby! Gojo
warnings!! - Heavy angst, cheating, Satoru is cruel and mean, reader starts off very shy/insecure, Soft Sukuna but he still don't mind being buried inside married reader, a fuck ton of feelings, eventual smut, explicit, mentions of insecurities. This chap - yandere Sukuna, obsessed/toxic Satoru, oral (f receiving) fingering, squirting, spitting, possessive behavior, insane jealousy, Sukuna is down bad and falling more and more, reader is getting stronger (let my baby cook) mentions of somno, mentions of sex, degradation (sexual and just in general) messy dynamics, cheating/reverse cheating... God just a lot.
This WILL have multiple endings - all of these three ends are gonna be messy. Told from Reader, Gojo and Kuna's POV based on this drabble - WC - 11.5k (dear God lol)
part two - masterlist - part four (soon)
part three
You
You rush in from the blinding lights of people’s phones flashing pictures and videos of you – Gojo’s wife and mysterious heiress – walking into a boxing gym of one of the most rebellious and notorious heir, Sukuna. Known for causing scandals and going against his own family the moment he got his trust fund, what sort of good heiress goes into a gym like this!?
You flew under the radar before you married Gojo, you never partied and made sure to not cause any problems for your family, but yesterday someone had spotted you walking into the gym and alerted all the other paparazzi. You have huge sunglasses on when the gym doors open and you see Yuuji waving you in, Sukuna crossing his huge biceps and walking out.
“Get in,” he says quietly, you do just that, hearing him now. “Any of you wanna jump in the ring with me, since you’re on my private property? Hah, no? Come on, I’d love you to fucking try, aww why are you running?”
“He’s crazy,” you murmur to Yuuji, who has his hand on your wrist, tugging you into the busy gym. “He really is, your uncle.”
“I know,” he rubs the back of his neck, smiling just a bit at you then. “You look so happy today.”
“I do?” You blush at that, and so does he, when Sukuna shuts the heavy doors and walks back in, raising a brow. “How so?”
“You just do,” Sukuna’s glaring right at him now. “She does look happy? I didn’t say she’s hot okay – she is but I didn’t say it. I mean you’re not!? I’m sorry – you are but that’s-”
“Yuuji,” you’re giggling now, watching him stammer awkwardly was perhaps the cutest thing you’ve seen. “Thank you, for the compliment.”
“Yeah, of course – uh I have to go… over there,” he rushes off where everyone is training, the sounds of the boxing bags being hit mixing with the whir of workout machines and the clinking of the weights on the floor. You feel Sukuna too close to you, not on you, but behind you, warmth seeping through even though you’re not touching.
“He’s cute,” you say, Sukuna’s eyes narrow when you look back at him. “He looks just like you, just a little sweet version.”
“Aww, am I not sweet?” You blush when he walks past you, and you clutch your bag, following him closely.
“You just threatened to fight like ten people.”
He snorts just a bit, the two of you stopping in the locker room, you set down your bag, it’s empty inside of it, Sukuna doesn’t necessarily have a ‘girls’ locker room, everyone just sort of goes together. You arrived in a baggy shirt, slipping it over your head after you take off your sunglasses, all while Sukuna sits wide legged on the bench, gym shorts slipping up his muscled thighs.
God was any of him not huge, even his thighs are thick, you bite your lip and hastily tug out your ear buds and water bottle, before shutting the locker and turning to face him. “I don’t like paparazzi, I tend to tell them to fuck off.”
“I saw that,” you tease, leaning over to set your things next to him, tugging your hair up in a ponytail, pausing when you feel his fingers slip across the back of your thighs. You suck in a breath, your heart hammering in your chest, stepping closer until you’re between his thighs. “Thank you for getting them away.”
“Wasn’t for you, I hate them,” he says gruffly, hands slipping over your hips now, thumbs pressing against your pelvis, you can’t bite back the little moan that escapes your throat then. Sukuna’s ruby eyes lock with yours, lips an inch from your collarbone, but he doesn’t cross that line, waiting for you.
You look around nervously, before stepping even closer, hands resting on his broad shoulders, tugged against him to where you feel his length against your thighs, body humming in response. You shouldn’t do this, no matter what Satoru does, you know you shouldn’t be actively seeking Sukuna out. Terrified you’d both get hurt, worried you can’t just be physical.
How, when Sukuna makes you feel this good, do you stop it? How when he looks at you like you’re so pretty, like he desires you so much? Your breaths quicken, gathering courage then.
“Guess what?” You ask, he smirks a bit, breath ghosting over your chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“What is it, brat? Got something to tell me?” He’s grinning, teeth glinting under bright fluorescent lights, you gather more courage but you’re trembling, leaning close and slipping your hands down his tattooed biceps.
“I made myself cum last night,” Sukuna’s grip is bruising, pupils blown out, before he stands up suddenly, pressing you against the lockers, a thigh between yours, making you cry out before he puts a hand on your mouth. You grip his wrist, his other hand dragging you down on his thigh, leaning close and moving his hand, exhaling. “Sorry that was too much, I shouldn’t have-”
“Shut up,” you gasp, glaring and earning his smirk. “You’re so sexy when you scowl like that.”
“Telling me to shut up… I…” Your whole life you’ve been silent, you’ve been quiet, pushed around with no sense of self. Yet Sukuna is teasing, he’s challenging you, he’s making you want to talk back, because you feel safe enough to. Your eyes look back up into his, swallowing nervously, his thumb brushing over your lips. “You shut up.”
He chuckles softly then, tilting your chin up, raising his thigh even higher. “Oh yeah, ya talkin’ shit?”
“Y-yes? I mean – yes.” You scowl all cutely again, pulse fluttering when he comes near, you’ve never felt this way, the thrill of it, talking shit to a six-foot-five grown ass man who’s got you soaking wet, drooling over that material.
“I like it,” he murmurs, easing his thigh back to run his fingers down your tummy, trembling underneath, hooking into the waistband of your shorts. “You made yourself cum for the first time?”
“Y-yes, I did – mnh!” You cover your own mouth when the backs of his fingers slip over your clit, she eagerly twitches in response, his thick digit slipping inside your hole, not teasingly with the tip like last time, no he slides it in all the way to the knuckle. Your eyes roll back from just that, cunt spasming around the invasion.
“Fuck,” he loses his bravado for a moment, yanking your hand down and curling his finger up before pulling it back, making you gasp out at the loss. “I’ll give you that reward later, for being a good girl.”
“L-later?” You hear the chatter and realize you both won’t be alone until later, looking to the side only to look back and see him sucking you off his fingers, moaning, lips wrapped around it. You drag him down for a quick kiss, he’s eagerly swapping your taste, tugging you hard against him.
God, to be kissed like this and not have it again?
You don’t know how you’d feel, to never have strong hands yanking you so close, to have his teeth clicking on yours, his tongue taking your mouth over. You’re lost in it, so lost you could forget who you are, where you are, but Sukuna is thankfully self aware, shallow breaths, hot when he pulls back.
He glares at you, hardly able to drag himself back. “Fuck are you doing to me?”
He murmurs, before giving you another kiss, and another, barely pulling back as others start to walk in, palm taking over the small of your back, bunching the material of your sports bra in his hand, lips coated in you.
“Sukuna… I…”
“Shh,” he pulls back and leaves you trying to catch your breath, his ruby gaze ever observant thankfully, because you get too lost in those moments to remember your situation. He grips your face for a moment though, smirking down at you. “Later, be a good girl and be patient.”
You nod quickly, letting his hand brush over your bare stomach before he walks off, leaning against the coolness of the lockers, heart hammering in your chest. You get a buzz on your phone then, picking it up with a shaky hand, it’s of course a text from your mother, already having seen you at the gym.
Just what are you doing boxing!? At the Sukuna heir’s gym!? Shouldn’t you be at home waiting for your husband?
Emotions hit your throat, blinking back burning tears. Can’t you for once feel good, feel excited, be fucking happy without them? Without all of them turning against you, downing you, for the briefest moment you stood up for yourself with Satoru, can you stand up to her though?
I like boxing. Gojo is plenty busy with his secretary at work, so I will not be waiting at home for him.
You just talked back to your mother, just that alone makes you dizzy, shaking as she starts typing back at you, showing a picture of you headed into the gym.
You look terrible on top of it, and now you’re disrespecting your husband? Perhaps we need to have a nice family dinner, and hone in on your lessons you’ve clearly forgotten.
You usually would cry by now, your mother was your original source of insecurities after all, but you shut your eyes and exhale, doing one of the breathing techniques Sukuna has taught you. Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth, focus on your heart beat and nothing else.
It works.
Dinner at eight tomorrow. You and your husband you’re neglecting.
You laugh at that.
Sure.
You mute your mother for the first time in your life, looking at the mirror for a moment to see yourself – and you see what Yuuji was saying, you just look… you look happier. Your eyes aren’t this sad mess, they’re glittering a little bit, there’s this brightness to your skin that was just a little dull before despite ample skincare. You just… are well rested, well fed, and you…
Came for the first time.
You feel heat on your cheeks, rushing off from that mirror then, trying to focus on training and acting casual, like you weren’t clenching around nothing just watching Sukuna sparring. Sweat gleaming down his skin, the way he could move his body despite being huge, that feral grin on his face as he gets hit.
Sukuna was still a mystery to you, but you feel you already know him better than you do your husband.
Gojo, fuck you haven’t even thought of him.
The ever present pain fades to the back of your mind – always worrying where he was, hoping maybe he’d like you, it all falls into a faint white noise.
*****
Gojo
Kuna – the fuck was a Kuna.
Why had you been moaning like that? God, just the thought of that had his cock twitching, his head falling back as his secretary sucks him down. Blue eyes shutting and forming an image of the girl he doesn’t ‘want’. The one who doesn't ‘want’ him. Not really.
You want to be the perfect wife, you'd probably get right on your knees and serve him if he hadn't turned you down on the wedding night. Let him cum all over those pretty tits and lap it right off, would your shy, cute little self let him spit his cum in your mouth, too?
“F- fuckkk,” he sucks in air through his teeth, using her to fuck her throat, to chase away any thoughts of his little wife and failing.
All he can think is how perfect your likely untouched cunt must feel, how good it would taste, milking him for all that cum you desperately want. Yet he doesn't want that, it must just be slips in his resolve, resolve to take the family down, to take everything about the Gojo Corp and shift it all.
He almost moans out your name when she swallows, gripping around his length, your tits and pretty face bouncing in his mind. It's like some sickness that's latched onto him now, one he'll never admit to you, when she swallows his salty cum down her talented, stretched out throat so obediently.
“Mmmh,” he pumps a few more times, moaning while all his release floods down to her stomach, head falling back. When his phone goes off he frowns, seeing the text from his mother.
Your wife. Surely we need a little discipline for both of you?
He scowls when he eyes that big pink haired man next to you.
Ryomen fucking Sukuna?
‘Kuna.’
Oh fuck no.
“Satoru…”
“Hold on,” she's lapping at his balls, eagerly drinking up every sip of pearly white. Normally he'd find it hot, how desperate and pathetic she is, but now it's just fucking annoying. “Enough.”
She blinks a bit, he adjusts himself, scowling as you ‘fuck you button’ his call. “But did I do –”
“Did great but can you get to work please? Actual work,” she pouts, lips trembling, tears pouring, making him roll his eyes. “Please? Be a good girl and go to work.”
She smiles again.
“Of course Mr. Gojo!”
Fuck most women are easy - even his wife was moaning a fucking heathen’s name. You, a pinnacle of innocence truly, touching your pussy to another man in his home.
Part of him doesn't blame you – isn't that where he pushed you?
Another part? Jealous, disgustingly jealous, he hates Sukuna and out of all people that's who you stumble across. His mind is racing until he's sick, shakily picking up the phone then, texting you.
We have an impromptu dinner apparently. Be careful of being seen when you're out.
You see the message.
I know. I will be careful.
He scoffs.
You really boxing or getting fucked?
Your dots move over and over.
None of your business. I'll be at the dinner tomorrow.
Satoru's jaw sets. Imagining Sukuna fucking you has him sick completely and utterly. His hands are trembling, dizzy suddenly, jaw setting.
Until I get us separated please keep your shit discreet.
Says you. Shouldn't you be fucking, isn't that all you do?
He smirks.
I just did, sweetheart, well… I got my cock sucked. Doesn't mean I can't multitask and check on my pretty little slut of a wife.
Since when am I pretty to you? And the only slut I see is you.
Satoru's teeth click together, fingers thrumming on the desk.
Be home for dinner.
Sir yes sir.
Who knew you had a bratty fucking attitude!? Who knew you would talk to him that way – the perfect girl. The perfect woman of all society, telling him to get fucked.
Why does it have him throbbing for you?
Satoru throws his fucking phone across the immaculate office, letting it slam into the door and then clatter to the polished floors below. He leans back with a sigh and covers his face.
Just what does he do with you?
Sukuna
Trying to act as if he doesn’t care that you’re hurting and crying is a shitty act, and one he’s failing at. Acting like it’s okay you go home to someone like Satoru Gojo of all people? It took him just a moment to connect the dots, so fucking enamored by your pretty face when you came for him, the way your eyes lower nervously, the soft little sighs against his lips…
Yuuji was right to watch it, but not because of Gojo, it was him.
For a man who has in his entire life really not felt shit, to suddenly feel so much so intensely was not just terrifying to feel, there’s the added layer of the fact that technically you’re not his. He’s not even sure what sort of future you all could have, if any, or is Sukuna just a fleeting time for you? One where you start to get yourself together, to find yourself out?
He’d be okay with that usually, making women cum was fun for Sukuna, he loved it in fact, and he’s used to being the first orgasm for many women. However, a married, innocent virgin wasn’t something he had in his cards, and everything she would make him feel – things he doesn’t even want to.
Sukuna couldn’t stop jerking his cock until it was raw thinking of you, he had some date and cancelled it for this weekend, how could he even see or think of anyone with you here? Yet, you’re not his. You go home to your husband, even if that’s not a permanent thing, he never thought he’d be so affected by that fact.
Thinking of Gojo touching you makes him sick.
As if you’re already Sukuna’s.
Watching you on that little treadmill, working your butt off when he knows just a tiny bit of what you go through, grips his heart and wrenches it nearly out of his fucking chest. If he just wanted to make you cum, perhaps that would be less painful, if he didn’t instead want to fuck every insecurity your parents and shit husband put in your head out of you.
Kiss every bit of you, fold you in half underneath him, never let you leave his goddamn bed – would he even get you home? Home, what nonsense, he hardly knows you and he’s over here simping for you already, he has to try to at least keep a level head about that shit, or he’d be ruined.
What if you end up staying? What then, for Sukuna? How the fuck would he get over you if you all go further – if he sinks inside you, would you sink into him, too? Already a part of you is lingering in his brain, one he can’t shove out, stuck and growing until he can hardly stand it, the overwhelming need to make you his and all his.
Imagine sending you home, cum soaked, the remnants of your innocence streaking crimson down his cock? He feels like a sick fuck thinking of it, how you’d go home to your ‘husband’ all fucked out, thighs shaking. Would Satoru try to touch you, and just instead end up fingering Sukuna’s cum?
Something sick is ruining him – if the fucker had to ever come near you, he hopes it’s to play in the fucked out mess Sukuna would leave your pussy in – though the thought of him near you at all draws something insanely possessive he’s never felt. Even a fake kiss for the public, a hand on your waist, scrolling through pics of the two of you on his phone had him almost crush it in his hand.
How can he stand sending you home to that shit and not want to protect you? Dangerous, foolish, dumb as fuck.
Helpless, hopeless.
All it takes is a cute little attempt at a smile to ruin his resolve, to wreck his mind he only needs the smallest little touch of your hand on his chest. Guiding you right now by your shoulders, positioning you and watching you punch that bag so damn good. When he tells you how to swerve and you pick it right up, when your brow furrows just a bit and you concentrate…
He shouldn’t be so enamored – yeah, you’re gorgeous but he wishes it was just a pretty face with pink boxing gloves and not wanting to know every bit of you. He hides it well, you probably think this is easy for him, teaching you to box then teaching you to touch yourself, did you know it was killing him?
“That’s it,” he murmurs in your ear, adjusting your hips, feeling the curve of your ass against his thighs, shoulder blades pressing on his chest, already aching. “Put a little more strength into one, lemme see.”
You punch the bag hard, wincing then.
“Shit, your wrist,” he curses softly, peering at it as you blink back tears that you stubbornly don’t let fall. “I should have thought of it.”
“It’s okay,” you murmur softly, letting his rough, tattooed hands glide across your wrist. “Just a little twist.”
“Yuuji,” his little nephew perks up. “Can you grab her some ice?”
“Mhm!” He runs off, you’re already shaking it off.
“I’m fine, Sukuna, promise. I want to do more!”
“Nope,” you sigh, so he literally picks you up like it’s nothing, plopping you out of the ring onto the floor.
“Hey! You can’t just pick me up and put me wherever.”
Sukuna grins at you then, watching the flush decorate your pretty cheeks. “Yeah? Well I just did. What ya gonna do about it?”
“I’m gonna go back in! That’s what,” he chuckles as you attempt to pass him, until he just picks you up by the waist and lets your feet just dangle. “Sukuna!”
“My ring, my rules, brat.” Yuuji walks up and hands you an ice pack, you fold it and place it on your wrist, smiling.
“Thank you so much,” you say softly, not all bratty like you get with him. He wonders if you only do that to him, and what that means.
Are you safe enough to do that with him?
Something about it makes the affection tug at his heart, this gnawing feeling happening too fast, so fast it makes him fucking angry. This isn’t him, right? Damn near on his knees for someone, who can’t be all his.
That’s what he wants, too – you to himself.
He walks away suddenly, leaving you looking after him, anything to get away from that scent that’s in his nostrils, whatever sweetness that danced on your skin. Fuck even sweaty you smell good – it’s actually bullshit, all effortless and pretty and don’t know it for shit, even now you’re looking at him curiously, giving him this little smile that he ignores.
He has to back off before he hurts himself, but the moment you’re both alone, and you feel that tension, you’re about to do just that – back off. He can already see you second guessing your actions, the way your mind races is easy for him to read, your jerky little motions.
Hastily tucking your hair behind your ear, hugging yourself.
It would be better if he kept the physical out of it, if he could just support you without crossing the line, but your taste is still coating his tongue. Your spit soaked lips parted and your pupils dilated ingrained in his fucking brain, his entire body aching for you, to feel you against him, wrapped around his fingers so tight.
He’d probably break you in half, split you open on his cock if he got buried inside, he’d be able to see himself move, too, claiming you for his own, his cock is leaking from your hasty little hug. His arm wraps around you, your bag falling with how tightly he tugs you against his hard frame, feeling you trembling against him, breaths in little pants, your nails pressed just a bit against his back.
He hardly holds back a moan, a soft sigh escaping, tugging you close when you go to leave, your eyes locking.
“Leaving already?” He murmurs softly, you take a shaky breath then, looking down, hands on his tattooed chest.
“I think you need me to,” your words hurt him then, his heart hammering underneath your palm.
“Did I say I want you to go?”
“No, but I feel it,” you let a little tear slip, Sukuna catches it with a thumb, the drop slipping across a painted black nail. “I have dinner with my parents tomorrow.”
“Tell them to get fucked.”
You giggle just a bit, shaking your head. “I can’t just do that.”
“Sure ya can, practice on me,” you bury your face, he feels the warmth against the sweat slicked skin, his huge hand covering your back, holding you too close. “Say it – Sukuna, get fucked.”
“No! No way!” You pull back but he’s cupping your face, smirking down at you. “I can’t say that to you.”
“Nah?”
“No,” you bury your face again, hands clutched into little fists, clearing your throat nervously. “I told you I don’t want you to get dragged in my mess, and I’m here with the paparazzi.”
“They can also get fucked, like your parents,” he tilts your chin up. “Like your husband.” You say nothing in that moment, cheeks burning hot underneath his touch. “Why are you runnin’ off?”
“I could tell you were getting um… I don’t know…” You can’t look at him, your eyes keep shooting down.
“Eyes on me, remember what I taught you about eye contact?” They go back to his, wetting your lips nervously and wrecking him with one flick of your tongue, he leans over you now, his breath ghosting your mouth.
“You seem a little um… distant and maybe I’m already overthinking it?” He just tilts his head, raising your chin higher, seeing your lashes tremble. “I am overthinking all of this. I shouldn’t be just saying I came last night, and you’re being sweet, and here I am with my life a shitshow. And I don’t expect-”
Sukuna kisses you.
He feels you melt underneath him, fingers pressing into his biceps, your soft breasts pressing against him underneath that thin little top, nipples hardening. His thumbs reach out to trace those peaks, deepening it, drinking in your cute little whimper down his throat, a hand going to entangle in your hair, yanking that little scrunchy right out.
“Mnh, Sukuna…” You whisper, pulling back, he wonders if you can already feel how hard he is, pressing so close to your tummy then, you’re stammering, a flustered mess.
“I liked you saying it to me,” he whispers, stepping you until you’re right on that counter, lifting you up, catching the reflection of his already dazed face in the mirror. “I liked hearing how you made your pretty little cunt cum.”
“Mnh…” He’s kissing you again, your hair falling now down his fingers like silk, he tugs at the nape of your neck, drawing your head to the side, kissing a hot messy trail up it, open mouthed, tasting your skin. “Ah! I j-just… don’t w-wanna hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” He laughs softly, shaking his head and pulling back, cupping your face in two huge hands. “You’re worried about me getting hurt?”
“I am,” you hold his wrists, lips already swollen from his kiss. “I don’t know if I should be doing this, I feel I should respect you, not try to grind on your thigh.”
He smirks. “What’s wrong with soaking my thigh?”
“I just um… I feel like I can’t control myself around you,” you’re so hot he feels you fucking burning against his cock, nudging you under those gym shorts, already stuck to his boxers. “I shouldn’t be so bold.”
“I like you that way,” he likes you any way – too much. “All needy and cute.”
“Needy!”
“Aren’t you?” Your head falls back for his hungry lips, dragging your cunt right against his cock, aching for you. “Cunt is so needy, she needs my fingers, huh? Yours are so tiny, so pathetic. Can’t hit what she needs.”
Your thighs spread for him as he props you higher on that counter, putting his fingers to your lips, watching them part, your gaze lidded.
“Suck them,” he orders softly. “Get them ready, nice and slick. Mmm, there you go, pretty mouth wrapping them.”
You’re sucking his fingers eagerly, obediently, making him vividly picture his cock, how the tip would coat your little pink tongue in white, how your cheeks hollow and your head bobs, knowing you’d suck him so well.
“Good girl,” you gasp out at that, your cunt so slick when he leans back there’s a dark spot forming on your cunt, you look down and blush furiously.
“Oh god…”
“Shh, take em off.”
“Oh, um off - off?” Sukuna can’t stand how cute you are.
He’d literally ruin you, he shouldn’t, he knows that shit – but when your cunt is bare in front of him, and his two fingers part your folds, parting them to see your slick pouring from your little hole, winking at him and spasming. He exhales, leaning down and spitting right on it in a messy clear trail, right on your hole, moaning at the sight and leaning over you.
One hand slipping to grip your face, two fingers tracing your cunt with an aching slowness. “Do you want me to get your slutty little cunt off, brat? I need an answer, and not a little whimper, or a sigh. Look at me and tell me what you want.”
Your lips open then close, thighs shaking as you bend them at the knee, his fingers spreading his own spit all around your needy little hole. So pathetic he could almost cum just touching you, his cock is pulsing, ready to pump you so full of cum you’re bloated from it.
Insane shit.
What do you do to him? He asked it earlier, but he’s still not entirely sure what it is, the way he doesn’t give a fuck you’re married, even that you’re married to Gojo. In fact, he fucking always hated that little pretentious shit all of high school and college, he’s thriving in the fact it would piss him off, yet the main problem is you.
Achingly beautiful, too sweet for a guy like Sukuna – corruptible in the prettiest little way.
All he can think of is taking you home, not fingering you on some damn counter in his locker room. You deserve more, but then when you finally open your mouth and say those words, he’d make you cum anywhere, as many times as you want, let you use every bit of him.
“I want you to make me cum,” he moans, leaning low and dipping his fingertips in your slick walls. “Um… please?”
Fuck you’re cute.
You
Sukuna eases two fingers deep inside, stretching you out so much your head slams against the mirror, lost in how crimson eyes ruin your senses. You know two wrongs don’t make a right, you know the damage this could cause, the anger that would be directed at you the moment Satoru finds out.
Yet nothing’s stopping your cunt from eagerly sucking his thick fingers in, from pulsing right around them, those long fingers curling inside you, a deliberate, achingly slow motion that has your back arching off the cold mirror. The sound you make is a broken little thing that echoes, earning his groan, his kiss against your neck, finding that spongy, sensitive spot inside you
"There it is," his voice is husky as he teases it, with a filthy squelch, curling up again and watching you with eyes gone black. The pleasure is so good you can’t take it, eyes rolled back in your skull, gasps escaping your lips. “That’s it, huh baby?”
Baby, fuck he’s calling you baby.
You already felt too much, but that damn near ruins you, cunt drooling down his thick fingers stretching your hole. You can't form a coherent thought, let alone answer him with words, all you can do is grip his shoulders, your nails digging into the muscle as he works you like he’s known your body, his gaze so intense you’re lost in it.
Lost in him, you get lost in him.
Paparazzi fade, Gojo fades, your parents and their fucked ass expectations, there’s nothing but white hot pleasure and adrenaline coursing in your veins, dragging him down for a hungry kiss while his fingers work up and down. “Ngh!”
“That’s it, look at her takin’ me so well,” he whispers, sooty pink lashes lowering and casting shadows under the lights, across the planes of his face. “You think I don’t wanna bury my cock deep inside that perfect little hole?”
Your heart hammers in your ears, chest rising and falling with every quick little pant, cunt messy and drooling down on that counter, your pants bunched down across your ankles. You’re dizzy as he scissors you with them, in and out, so much pressure in your core, when he leans low, smirking down at you, far too attractive.’
Too much, Sukuna is too much.
“Touch that little clit, lemme see,” you release one of his biceps to slip your fingertip down your trembling tummy. “That’s it, let go just f’me.”
Your mouth is met with bruising kisses, touching your clit like he showed you with his two fingers pressing so deep you can’t take it, feeling your orgasm approaching, higher and higher. Spit just dripping right down your tongues, your mouths, his fingers working you so good, maddening in their rhythm – your fingers falter, hips stuttering as your release hits you.
“There she goes,” his whisper is met with a devious fucking grin, he looks like some demon in that moment – maybe he was, having you spread like this, depraved with your cunt gushing and making a mess. “Doin’ s’good, look at you.”
“Mnh…” he brushes your hair back, messy now, your cunt pulsing around his fingers that slow, hand falling and useless, he takes it and sucks your little fingers in his mouth, tongue catching every drop.
“You did such a good job, I can tell you practiced,” he says, smirking then, studying your fucked out little face.
He withdraws his fingers, making you whimper at the sudden loss, god you feel just empty already, but you barely have time to register it when he's dropping to his knees before you. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open and steady on the counter as he leans in. You feel his hot breath against your oversensitive, swollen lips just a moment before his tongue is on you, flicking the tiniest bit.
Is he… is Sukuna licking you?
“W-what are you… ah!” Sukuna shoves your thighs up until they’re pressing against your tits, smushing them, tugging your pants off your ankles. “I came already like… a lot.”
“This isn’t for you brat,” he whispers, sinking to his knees now, fingers drenched in your syrupy folds, exhaling – his breath making your clit just jump, twitching for him and earning his smirk. “Not at all, actually.”
“Not for me? Then – ah!”
“Shh.”
“Shh? I - ngghh!”
He doesn't tease, doesn’t gently flick his tongue or whatever you maybe imagined this as – you don’t really even know what he’s doing. Gojo has fucked in front of you, and mentioned blow jobs, but you never saw him like this with a girl, so on this you’re hopelessly clueless, your throat dry – hands enwrapping in pink, silky locks, tugging and earning a moan.
No, he seals his mouth over your still spasming entrance and drinks.
There’s no other word but that, he drinks you up with greedy, messy slurps, groaning as he tastes your release, his tongue lapping up the gossamer streams as if he's starving. You’ve never felt anything like it, like his greedy tongue tracing every inch his fingers just plunged into, in and out, fucking you with his tongue and slurping obscenely loud.
“S-Sukuna! I… f-fuckkk…” You’re cussing before you know it, mumbling incoherently, the intimacy of it too much to even put into a word.
He’s worshipping you on his knees, like you’re some treasure, some delicious meal for him to savor, and he’s not gentle or teasing, he’s not easy, his teeth graze your clit, hungry mouth sucking the little thing in. You’re cumming again, this time so sensitive you can hardly function, when he moans and the vibrations rock through you.
He’s possessive how he grabs your thighs, your ass, how he moans when you pull his hair so hard his eyes tear, but he won’t unlatch his mouth. Even as you’re murmuring how sensitive you are, shuddering, no he’s drawing out aftershocks that make your legs shake uncontrollably, squirting embarrassingly.
But he just drinks every bit of the clear little drops that gush down his lips, his chin, the tattoos on his throat glossy.
“Kuna… I… mnhph!” He grins against you, looking under his lashes and lapping up another stripe. “Thought it w-wasn’t for me?”
“It’s not, mmm,” he parts your puffy lips again, sucking at that little winking hole, earning your hips jerking, drool spilling from the corner of your lips, when you feel him moaning, hear him almost whimper, his body tensing, as if he is cumming from it. “It’s f’me. You just happened to enjoy that shit.”
“Enjoy i-is not r-really – ah!”
“Kuna, huh?” He smacks your cunt and grins as he studies your face, spitting right on your cunt again in a filthy action, another smack echoing. “Ya like that, me smacking her?”
You’re so nervous, you cover your face, he’s on you in a moment, yanking your wrists down, his face is coated in your cunt down to his fucking chest. “I made such a mess, oh my god.”
“Answer brat,” he smacks your pussy again, you whine out, nodding, his other hand choking your throat ever so gently underneath your chin.
“I like anything you do to me,” your words are vulnerable, he pauses just a bit, sighing and kissing you, smacking your cunt once more, having you practically twitching underneath him.
“What’s Kuna, huh?”
You blush more, giggling now, all fucked out from his tongue and his fingers, he’s gently kissing down your neck, but even in his gentleness, Sukuna is brutal, so strong, leaving his mark.
“I thought you needed a nickname, since you just call me brat all the time,” he snorts, shaking his head, your eyes shut in bliss, entire body on fire. “Um… Kuna.”
“Uh huh?” Your fingers drift down, lips pressing together with your nerves, he exhales and lets your touch glide.
“I can return the favor, or I mean… try to?”
“We can do that another time,” he says, voice husky. You look down and see his hand, coated in his own white, making you flush, tummy fluttering. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Ccan I taste it though?” He groans, shaking his head when you reach down again. “How’s that fair, you just had your tongue inside me.”
“I won’t stop there, that’s the problem,” you snatch his hand then, tongue lapping at the salty white drops from his release. You’re trembling as you do it, knowing it’s filthy and wanton, but fuck if he doesn’t make you wanna do more.
Satoru was so sure you’d drop to your knees for him, suck his mistress’ cunt off his cock, but the only man you’re thinking of doing it to is right here, watching you with a tensed jaw, his nostrils flared ever so slightly, eyes bright red. You lap every little bit of him up, seeing his cock twitch in those shorts, dying to know how it looks, how it would feel.
“You’re about to get your throat fucked so good you won’t talk,” you suck his fingers harder, he pulls them out and kisses his own cum off you, hands all over your body until they hit your hips, tugging you against him. “You love to test me, don’t you?”
“I just want you,” you pause then, sighing. “I said that.”
“You did,” he kisses you again and again, slowly easing off. “You wanna suck me that bad, then you come to my place and do it.”
“But I… what if… how can…”
“Or, I fuck your throat in your room,” you gasp. “Think I’m afraid of your dumb twink of a husband?”
“Sukuna you’re insane,” you frown then, shaking your head. “We can’t just go to my place.”
“And why?” He helps you down, tugging up your pants, kissing messy trails up your inner thighs, you sigh, head falling back. “Doesn’t he?”
“Sure but it’s his home, god I think he’d actually kill us both,” Sukuna spins you to face the mirror, and that’s when you see your hair – wild, all over – your tits half out, marks littered on your throat. “Oh gosh.”
“Look how fuckin’ gorgeous you are like this,” he wraps his arms around you, hands slipping to tug your tits back in. “Bet he’s hard constantly near you, talking so much shit because he just wants you.”
“No,” you shake your head. “He could never.”
“Uh huh, I know him.” You blink in shock, looking up as he leans back, fixing your hair carefully. “Surprised?”
“Very, are you all…”
“Friends? Fuck no,” he runs fingers through your hair carefully, the realization of everything slowly starts. “Couldn’t stand that little shit, I loved to beat him in everything.”
“Sukuna,” he tugs you close, his lips against your ear. “I don’t want to go home at all.”
He’s quiet, you’re suddenly so perfect in his arms, like you don’t want to leave, just leaning there against his hard body, huge biceps wrapping underneath your pretty tits, pressing them up.
“I hate that you go home to him, that’s my fuckin’ secret,” he whispers, breath hot on your ear. “I get sick of that thought, his hands anywhere near you.”
“He doesn’t even want that,” you catch his gaze in the mirror, seeing the possessive gaze. “I assure you, he doesn’t find me attractive.”
“He’s lying,” his hand splays your stomach, half bare from your workout clothes, just a little damp from perspiration, sending a shiver down your spine. “I hate that he even gets to look at you.”
Sukuna
“Sukuna, I…”
He cuts you off with a kiss, swapping your tastes, trying to shut his own dumb fucking mouth up. Now he’s acting jealous and possessive of a girl he hardly knows, but he can’t take it – how much he needs you to himself, how he can’t stand the thought of your dumb ass husband even seeing glimpses of you.
He worried it would happen, the further you both go, the more possessive he becomes, but the insane need makes him almost sick, imagining just taking you the fuck away, locking you up in his pretty penthouse. Never letting Satoru or your fucked ass family find you, have them leave your mind alone, just give you anything.
You’d never really need to leave, would you?
His head spins, cock still sticky from where he’d cum eating you out – he jerked it maybe three times and was spurting so much cum it was ridiculous, a waste not to creampie your pretty pussy instead. Yet when he drank you, he almost came from just that, pathetic whatever it is you’re doing to his head not even trying.
“I don’t want to hurt you, ever,” you whisper softly, he laughs then, without humor.
“You’re worried for me?” You swallow nervously, nodding, not having a clue what’s racing in his mind. “I’m good, brat, worry about you. Okay?”
He backs off, but it’s physically painful, like ripping himself apart, stepping back and grabbing your sweater, your shoes, coming to hand them to you, seeing your shaky hands. It’s quiet for just a moment, he helps slip your hair into that scrunchy that somehow ended up on his wrist, trying not to make himself look more like a dumb, pussy whipped fuck.
Is this what he used to make fun of his friends about? Getting this whipped for a girl?
No, it’s different, it’s obsession, and the sight of you licking his own cum off his fingers was ruining him. It’ll live rent free in his brain on repeat, he already knows what this is turning to, so much so he should pull back, before the both of you are ruined forever.
How can he pull away, though? All he wants to do is go further, he barely holds back half the shit he wants to say and do when he’s standing by the back of the gym, and you’re holding onto him on your tip toes, eyes a myriad of emotions.
“You all right, brat? Too much?” He asks then, you shake your head. “Lost a lot of fluids, need electrolytes.”
“Oh!” You hide your face, you always do it, he wishes it didn’t tug at his goddamn heart, everything cute you do. “You’re teasing me.”
“Mmm, no, I’m your trainer and nutritionist now,” you giggle a bit, peeking up at him.
Sukuna was never sweet until you.
The thoughts of you crushing his heart without meaning to had him tense though, some sick sense of self preservation, he had to hold himself together, keep back just enough not to do the dumbest shit he’s thinking of. Literally contemplating kidnapping a pretty, married heiress is not in any way okay to imagine, nor is beating a six foot four white haired shit of a husband.
“Are you eating?”
“Mhm,” you sigh a bit then, blinking, tracing your fingers across his chest, he’s slung a thin workout shirt that clings to his body like a second skin. “This dinner is gonna be terrible.”
“You can say no,” he tilts your chin up. “You can say no to all their shit. And you can ignore whatever dumb ass things they try to say.”
“I’m scared to, I’m not all big and brave like you,” you poke his nose playfully. “I wish I was.”
“You’ve got muscles forming,” his fingers graze your bicep, just a little bit forming, you smile all big and bright. “Try telling them all to fuck off and you’ll feel better.”
“You don’t know them,” your eyes tell him more than your words do, the absolute fear in them. “They make Gojo look sweet.”
“That bad?” His brows draw together. “Do they lay hands on you?”
“They did a lot when I was younger, not for years,” he tenses. “I’m going to be all right. Promise.”
“Go on,” he steps back, his own feelings terrifying the shit out of him, trying to hold himself back. “I’m out of town for the weekend, but if you need anything you can text me.”
“No please don’t worry,” you step closer, the breeze from the now open doors blowing your little sweater around your body. “Today was insane.”
“Yeah, you enjoyed it all right,” he leans close. “Messy little brat.”
“Your fault,” your glossy lips press his, soft and sweet, tentative, your arms wrapped around his neck. “Seems like you enjoyed it too. I mean…”
You’re blushing, he chuckles a bit then. “I did, I told ya, it was for me.”
“I see that.” You linger a little too long, if you stay another minute he won’t even let you go.
I don’t wanna go home.
How does he just let the girl who’s racing in his mind constantly, the one with her cunt dripping on his lips just go to a man who treats her like shit, and then send her to her parents who are worse? This is what he was scared of, having all these dumb fucking feelings that make him sick.
“Start sneaking in the back, I had Yuuji move your car,” you nod then, hand holding his just a bit too long.
“Good night Sukuna. Um… thank you.”
“Mhm,” you rush out, leaving him alone, feeling like there’s some fucking hole in his chest that you caused, a glimpse of your eyes behind your windshield before you back away, driving and leaving him just standing there.
He wishes he’d let that go, you’re a grown woman, you’re not his.
But Sukuna does a fucking deep dive when he’s home, the penthouse is immaculate aside from him tossing his shoes by the front door, his keys on the counter, he literally just lives at the gym. There are things from Yuuji and his friends strewn across the home, but the cleaners seem to always put everything exactly where it should be.
The one perk to being rich is not cleaning, Sukuna hates that shit.
He pulls up his laptop and slips on his glasses, he just can’t really see shit up close, and puts your pretty face into focus, eyeing your hopelessly empty socials. The only things on there are strategically placed from PR, likely your parents he’s sure, pictures of you with your friends and basic, generic ones – your profile says ‘Mrs. Satoru Gojo’.
He clicks through curiously, his IG has just a couple less followers than Sukuna – he never thought he’d get a sick satisfaction of that, but they’re all pretentious. Him with his boys all over every post, on a ship here, on an island there, girls half naked all around him, clearly Satoru didn’t use a PR person, he’s as obnoxious as a nepo baby could be.
Not a mention of you, not a picture, even your wedding one.
He sighs, clicking through and delving deeper – he just wants to know everything about you, at a concerning level, sometime through it you even text him, and he realizes that hours have passed. He knows every school you went to, all your shitty little trad wife friends, about your cat that passed away last year – you were clearly devastated about it, a little paw print tattoo he saw makes sense now.
Just who were you, and just how does Sukuna get you all to himself?
Good night, Sukuna.
He wishes there wasn’t a dopey ass grin on his face.
He wishes there wasn’t then a frown, a worried furrow of his brow, an aching need to have you anywhere but there with Satoru Gojo.
Gojo
Satoru’s eyes hit you as soon as you set down your gym bag by the door, your pony tail is all askew, there’s a clear fucking mark on your throat, your sweater is wrinkled as if someone had been gripping it. His fork clatters to the plate, jaw clenched tight, so fucking furious he can hardly stand it.
You seem to notice, turning toward him and raising a brow. "What's wrong, Satoru?"
You lift that sweater off, your top all askew from where your personal trainer's lips had been all over your skin, teeth marks glittering so clearly even on your damn shoulder, it’s all making him sick. He stands up then, fists clenched at his sides, heart hammering with something he’s never, ever felt in his entire life.
It can’t be jealousy.
Jealous of what – Ryomen Sukuna kissing his wife? The wife he doesn’t want, the one he’s actively trying to get rid of?
He hates this feeling – he hates that he wants to suck on those marks until they’re bruises, his marks, his bruises – fuck, that cute, mean little smile off your face. Take you right on that wall and pump away any dumb memory you currently have of Sukuna.
Did he already fuck you?
You back up just a step, against the wall and just smiling all fucking mean at him, not that shy, nervous one – not even that pout, no, it’s an evil curve of lips so clearly swollen from kisses. Never has he wanted to smack someone so badly – no, he wouldn’t hit a girl, but god he would love to leave hand prints all over your ass, your thighs, choke your little throat.
God no one has ever made him so angry.
"Where have you been, huh?” He asks, you just raise a brow at him. “I asked a question.”
“You did, and you know where I was, you texted me about it,” you bend down, taking off your shoes right there, getting an inch shorter when your feet hit the tile.
“So you were just getting all marked up, like a little slut?"
You smack him then, hard, across his cheek blooming red, shoving at his hard chest then as his blue eyes narrow. Satoru laughs softly.
Damn you got stronger, compared to that first smack, you split his goddamn lip open here. You gasp for a moment, seeing the crimson droplet dancing on vemillion, backing completely against that wall.
“I didn’t mean to… hit so hard…”
“You meant to,” he grips your wrist now, pinning it to the wall. “Own your shit, you wanted to hit me.”
You take a shaky little breath, eyes locked, your teeth biting your trembling lip for a brief moment. “Yes I did want to hit you. Because you have no right to call me a slut, where do you get off?”
“Usually in Jennifer’s mouth,” he muses, your glare making him throb in need. “Sometimes on her tits, or Chloe’s. Question is, where did you get off, huh? You sure the fuck did, I can practically smell it.”
“You cannot!” You shove him with one hand, the other wrenching free. "You made it clear this was name only, for our families, yeah? That you'd never want me, how many times have you said that!? Even on our wedding night!?" You blink back tears, closing your eyes, Satoru’s at a loss for words.
You’re right.
Yet that doesn’t make any of this okay for him, it doesn’t make the fact that you smell like another man okay. Especially him.
“Answer me, stop deflecting.”
You open your tear filled eyes. "You just need to know that I’ll never try anything with you, never try to have a marriage, a relationship. Just like you wanted.”
Just like he wanted.
The words are so wrong out of your mouth, he can’t recognize you – but did he ever know you, really?
Panic sets in, his stomach in knots, feeling you fall away, pushed so far, and now he can’t stand that, can’t take the thought of not being able to have even the tiniest bit of you.
He scoffs, letting you go, standing back then. "You already know this will make us look-"
"No, Satoru, you did this,” you cut him off quickly, glaring now. “I've seen you with your girlfriends, kissing on their necks."
He's quiet then, jaw clenched, his beautiful face for once showing a goddamn emotion despite how well trained he has it to appear otherwise. “That was for your own good.”
“Great, thanks! Thanks for parading hickeys right over where your cock is, teeth prints on your nipples, fuck you think any of this was okay!?”
“Do you care, sweetheart? That they get me and you don’t?” You scoff, shaking your head.
"You thought I wouldn't do it too? Want me to watch you and go untouched and unwanted?"
He pauses now, realizing what his anger and resentment has turned into, how far gone you are. His desperation starts to creep its way, as he looks at how gorgeous you are this angry, how your lips just make him want to bruise them more, suck on them until you’re crying out, your heat against his thigh when he presses one right between yours, cupping your face and leaning low.
You pause, gasping, eyes shooting up.
“What games do you need to play with me, you’re sick.”
“A game, you’re playing the fucking game,” his hands squeeze your head on either side, his breaths faster and faster, the ever present temptation making him ache with need. “What did you do with him?”
"Hah, I love how you care when you have a list of your little hoes,” every time you glare he’s throbbing.
Fuck you, fuck this.
God he can’t stand whatever the hell you’ve done to him.
“As you tell me – none of your business,” you laugh just a bit then. “All I’ll say is I guess I see the appeal of you fucking all the time. If things feel that good.”
Satoru slams you against the wall, you don’t back down, you just eye him, satisfaction written all over your face. “So wet, always watching me, hearing me?”
“God no, you’re disgusting to me,” you lean up, a centimeter away from his lips. “To answer that question you had – I would never drop to my knees for you, not a chance in this world that I do.”
You push past him, he drags you against him, feeling the curve of your back against his torso, the way your rounded ass hits his lap, earning his moan, god has anyone felt better in his arms?
“You are just a little slut, huh?” He tilts your face to look at him, you scoff, shaking your head in his grip.
“You’re the only slut here.”
“Ah, you got some teeth, it’s cute,” he hums softly, hand gripping your tit, smirking when the bud hardens against his palm, when your breath quickens. “Acting as if you’ve stopped wanting me.”
“I have stopped,” you jerk your chin back, looking down. “I don’t want you, isn’t that your goal?”
"If you wanted to be pleasured, sweetheart, I could have already given you it," his fingers – long and thick – trail down your body, feeling it tremble and smirking. "I could have been convinced to make you cum so you didn’t end up hopping on the first dick you found.”
“I hate you,” you hiss those words.
Good.
You should.
Satoru hates himself, and the mindless need that takes over – jerking it to his own goddamn wife as she fucks around.
“Could have at least fucked Suguru,” you laugh then, a mean little sound that makes him leak pre like a sick fuck, deranged for you. “I’d accept that, but Ryomen Sukuna?”
“His tongue just is so good,” Satoru pauses, and you relax a bit in his hold. “Those fingers too. I bet all you do is get sucked and act like you did something.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” his fingers brush down your tummy, feeling you shaking in his hold. “You hear them moan, and think what?”
“Maybe it’s fake – I can’t say I give a shit. I already got off today, so I'm certainly not in need of you and wherever these fingers have been."
You shove him off you now, disentangling yourself – and he curses, eyes fluttering shut, wondering why he cares. He didn't want this, want the marriage, want the company, want any of this thrown on him by no choice. Yet now seeing your tears in your eyes and those marks on your neck, he feels sick to his stomach.
You're right, he's been with women, kissed them right in front of you, uncaring at all, yet to have it done to him? Is that what you felt? SIckening realization hits him then, thumb brushing over a lip already kissed, some insane possessive need sinking into him.
“Don’t touch me, you don’t get to.”
“Don’t want it?” You stiffen, and he laughs softly, acting as if he has any sanity left, any inkling of a fucking brain, wiped clean by you. “You can lie out of your pretty mouth all you want, you’re easy to read.”
You stomp over to your room. “I’m going to shower.”
“What if I just lock you up?” You gasp, turning around and scowling, he walks right over to your door, barring you with one arm. “Don’t let you run off acting like a dumb slut?”
“Then I’ll just leave you, divorce you, cause you the scandal.” Your chin juts up, he’s leaning too close, he can almost taste you. “I want this over as much as you do, we’re on the same page now. You should feel accomplished.”
You go to turn, and Satoru slams his lips on yours.
You freeze, and god when his lips hit yours, he’s done for, he’s lost in whatever the fuck you did to his psyche, every thought of any other girl fades until it’s all you – the girl he just called a slut, the one he can’t wait to get rid of. The one he told his friend to go fuck, and now all he can do is want to bury himself inside of you. Tongue slipping in your surprised mouth before you can stop him.
“Fuck,” he murmurs softly, pulling back with heavy breaths, kissing you again, stumbling into your room, hands drifting down the curves of a body he’s been aching for. “God, feel you.”
You’re pulling back for a breath, shaking your head, hands on his chest, shoving at him, just to stop for a moment, kissing him back he swears – your tongue moves against his, hands tightening. Yet you even quicker jerk back, touching your lips as if they’re on fire.
“Don’t do that, don’t kiss me. I don’t… feel anything.”
Satoru’s heart shatters.
Wow, he has one.
“What?” He demands, through his teeth, breath coming in pants that ghost over your lips.
“It’s what you said that night,” your hands fist on his shirt, tears falling even as you stand firm, voice breaking. “Remember?”
Satoru does remember.
He remembers every fucking bit of that kiss, and that lie, and the look on your face, just to hear those words tossed at him.
“You’re lying.”
“Who cares if I am or not?” You pull back, taking a step, hand on the doorknob now. “You felt nothing, neither do I.”
Satoru’s jaw sets, his teeth clenched together to the point of pain. “Feel so much for your dumb fucking trainer?”
“I do,” you whisper softly, he hates this feeling, whatever the hell it is, gripping him by the throat. “You wanted all this, I’m just doing it.”
You slam the door shut, leaving him alone, his phone starts going off in his pocket, the girl who’d sucked him down last night, he lets it ring, staring at the screen, then at the door, hearing your sobs against the door.
He causes those constantly, doesn’t he?
You
You hyperventilate when you’re alone in your bathroom, scrubbing Satoru Gojo off your damn lips with a wet washcloth. The way his eyes looked at you, the way he kissed you, all fucked and wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
You hate that you wanted Satoru the moment you saw him, hate to think of what could have been if he hadn't pushed you away this entire time - the sham of a marriage. If he hadn’t been cruel, fuck he still was, calling you the slut was laughable, grabbing on you, taking you over.
The desire is there whether you want it or not, but you can't just back down and take another day of his cold uninterest, take another moment of his cruelty, you can’t get dragged down to whatever the fuck it was. Your fingers tremble as you type to Sukuna carefully, so afraid to come off even clingier, even needier.
You felt something for Satoru in that moment, the moment lips that were so cruel – but it was hatred.
You hate him.
Are you all right?
You almost say it – no, you’re not, but the last thing you need to do is drag Sukuna further into your shitshow of a life. After feeling like that with him, worshipped almost, the way he called you a slut was damn near affectionate, sensual, with Satoru? It was just cruelty, it was him being nasty, mean, disrespectful – it’s like you can’t get a breath around him.
You’ve never ‘hated’ someone until this moment.
I’m good, I just was thinking of you. I bet you snore so loud.
You’re blinking back tears, sitting on the bathroom floor, fingers trembling over the phone, watching him type back.
I do snore, but i think you’d be too fucked out to care, fuck you so good you won’t wake up. Then fuck you again.
Your hand is on your heart, entire body heated to the tips of your fucking ears, breath coming in quick little pants.
In my sleep?
If you wanted it, I’d gladly give it to you.
You’re a terrible person, sexting another man in your husband’s home, but you’re having a hard time feeling too bad about it.
Maybe I’d let you lick me in my sleep.
You said that.
Do you want me to come and fuck you now? Let your husband listen to how it’s done?
No, crazy!
Mhm, then shut up and go to bed.
A mix of a sob and a laugh bubbles up in your throat, escaping hoarsely. You’re drowning in Sukuna, tempted to grab onto him and cling, even if it drags you under, feeling his possessiveness had been heady, maddening, dizzy.
His ‘secret’ of not wanting you near Satoru, just thinking of it made you dizzy – but Satoru’s new found possessiveness?
That wasn't about love or desire, it was about ownership. He didn't want you, he just didn't want anyone else to have you. The moment someone did, look at how he acted? You couldn’t let it get to you, couldn’t allow your mind to fuck up, to go back to the girl you’re trying to bury.
Thinking of your parents with you in this state left a sinking feeling inside your stomach, the damage they could do.
You force yourself to stand, your limbs feeling wobbly, the mirror over the sink shows you a stranger. Your eyes are swollen and rimmed with red, puffy from the tears, your lips still faintly swollen from kisses – whose, though?
Your husband who hates you, or your trainer, who clearly wants you?
You scrub at your lips again, harder this time, trying to wash away the memory of his taste, the feel of Satoru’s tongue forcing its way into your mouth, over and over until your gums bleed, and that’s all you taste – but It’s useless. You can’t get rid of it – can’t shake this sinking feeling.
Even when Satoru left you… would Sukuna ever…
Would he want to be with you?
Were you good enough for him?
Lost in your thoughts, your insecurities, you hear a soft click from the direction of the front door. The distinct sound of it opening, then slamming shut.
Satoru left.
*****
The next night
Dinner with your parents and the man that single handedly has made it his life’s goal to make you miserable?
Sounds like so much fun.
Satoru says nothing as he sits in the back of that Limo next to you, if you thought he was cold and distant before – nothing prepared you for what it was like when you got ready for this dinner. Nothing prepared you for his cold, calculated tone, his dismissive bored glances, the way he acted so goddamn hot and cold, as if now he was punishing you for doing what he did.
And he was, he made sure to let his gaze linger on you when you asked if the dress was okay, shrugging a shoulder. He’s non stop on his phone, you’re fiddling with your hands in your lap, Sukuna’s out of town and you don’t want to bother him, yet in this long ride you can’t help but let your mind drift.
What if you were with him, instead? It wouldn’t be a cold ride, opposite sides of that limo, no it would be on his lap, in his arms.
Sukuna is Fire, and Satoru is Ice. One burning for you, hot to the touch, the other so cold you’re freezing, shivering in your evening gown, imagining the warmth of Sukuna’s touch.
However nothing prepares you truly for what happens that night, when your parents disappointment and anger hits, you feel it the moment you walk into the room, the impending sense of doom. And Satoru might pretend to hold your waist, to smile perfunctory at them, but you know in your heart –
You’re all alone.
Wow this is messy - warning, the next chapter will be HEAVY ANGST!!! (like heavier than this imagine LMAO)
Patreon for more exclusive fics - Kofi link (commissions here)
cw: smut, fem reader, reader is in college, jealousy sex, creampie, spitting in mouth (once), reader is high & drunk/tipsy, jealous!kuna, hints of a threesome, fingering, not proofread (sorrryyy), pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty/pretty girl), wc: idfk
notes: lowkey this is out of character for sukuna but i wanted some soft + jealous kuna sooooo here yall go. my friends wanted to me finish this and post it so i finally did yippee!!! sorry if i forgot things in my cw, i haven’t done this in a while :p ENJOYY freaks
sukuna isn’t the jealous type, at least that’s what he said to you today, “i have no reason to be jealous, woman. you’re free to do what you please, it’s not like we’re dating” and you played along, nodding your head and giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek with a soft “mhm ‘kuna i know, no worries” as you got out of his bed, beginning to collect your things. “gotta go, i have to get home and finish studying for my exam. maybe i’ll see you this weekend?” he huffed as you exited his room, not even bothering to see you out.
so when he spots you grinding dancing all over someone that same night, your mini skirt leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, he doesn’t understand why he feels a twitch in his jaw. he’s obviously not jealous, right?
you feel a slight shift behind you, a fairly large hand coming to snake around your chest, slowly moving up toward your neck. “mmm i’m choso, what’s your name pretty girl?” you smile, turning around to finally introduce yourself to the handsome man you’d been dancing with for a couple minutes now.
he leans down to whisper into your ear, “well it’s very nice to meet you.” his grip on your neck tightens just a little bit at the glint in your eye, to him it seems like you’re looking to cause some mischief. “you here with somebody already, pretty?” his other hands pulls your back closer to his chest, still allowing your hips a bit of movement.
“nope, just here with my friends tonight. why? you wanna take me home?” he grins, grip softening a little. “don’t get ahead of yourself baby. you sure you don’t have someone waiting on you at home? gorgeous thing like you needs to be treated right and i’m sure somebody is trying.”
you arch your back, pushing your lower half into his crotch. “hm no don’t think there’s anybody who fits the criteria, maybe you’ll change that?” and that makes choso smile, wide. “maybe, guess we’ll have to see.”
sukuna thinks he’s dreaming while watching you from across the room. he sees your mouth moving, but the only thing he can concentrate on is the way your hips slowly find a rhythm against choso’s body all over again. everything is moving so fast and it feels like he can’t keep up.
he slowly gets up from his seat making his way over, he closes in on you watching as choso spins you around to face him, this is his chance. he presses into your back, caging you in between him & choso.
“didn’t expect to see you here, thought you were at home studying” your head whips around, even in your drunken state you knew exactly who that voiced belonged to. “kunaaa, hiiii what’re you doing here?” you giggle. “could ask you the same thing, baby.”
choso smirks looking down at you, still holding your hips as you dance against sukuna. “see, told you somebody was wondering about you pretty girl. wouldn’t let a girl this pretty out of my sight if it was me though.” you look up at choso, noticing the way his dark hair falls against his shoulders. “he’s not my boyfriend, not even close. my offer is still on the table.” sukuna’s jaw tightens, scoffing at your obvious attempt to make him jealous. choso smiles, letting go of your waist and getting closer to your ear, “it’s okay pretty, i think you have everything you need right behind you, hope you have a fun night. see you around.” he walks away towards the bar, leaving you and sukuna dancing alone.
sukuna barks out a laugh watching the way you pout at the loss of contact from choso, still awaiting your answer to his original question. “well… my friends invited me out and when i left i saw their message. decided a little bit of fun couldn’t hurt. you understand though right kuna? it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything!” he brings his fingers up to your mouth, pushing his thumb inside slowly. “i think you’ve had too much to drink and i should take you home, cmon pretty.”
you nod, feeling the tension circulate between the two of you. the music is blasting, everything feels light, and you begin to appreciate the gummy your friend offered on the way here. “yeah we can go to my apar-”
“my place is closer, i’ll take you home tomorrow.” you send a quick text to your friends, letting them know you’re heading out and not to worry. sukuna guides you through the crowd so easily, weaving carefully in between bodies as you get closer to the exit. the immediate sensation of cold winter air hitting your legs makes you shiver, the combination of alcohol, sukunas hands on you, and the winter chill making it hard to ignore the growing need between your thighs.
sukuna opens your door for you, something he rarely does, hopping in shortly after sending a text right outside the car. you remind yourself to ask him about it later, but your thoughts are halted as he pulls up to a red light. his hand smooths over your thigh, getting closer to your core, “seems like somebody had fun tonight” he quips, dragging his fingers along your clothed heat. “mhm had sooo much fun, missed you im so glad you’re here.” you look over at him, observing the way his hips shift in the seat.
“didn’t seem like you missed me much, you were all over that guy, rubbing my ass on someone else, so mean of you baby.” and you crack, that was all the confirmation you needed. “are you jealous right now sukuna?” you can’t help but smirk.
“maybe i am sweetheart, why do you think you’re in my car going to my house? i think it’s time i show you just how much you really are mine.” sukuna doesn’t miss the way your body responds to his words, he feels the way your thighs get slightly closer, hips press down a little more into your seat, even the way your breathing picks up. “my girl, gonna show you how much i’ve needed you.”
sukuna pulls into his driveway, making his way to your side he opens your door (again), pulling you over his shoulder and making his way up to the door. “sukunaaa!! i can walk i’m not that drunk” “shhh quit your whining, you’re testing my patience already girl” you decide to quit while you’re ahead, kicking your shoes off as he drops your purse on the couch heading up the stairs.
he drops you onto the bed, admiring the way your eyes scan over his frame. “so pretty, my god.” his lips find that spot on your neck in an instant, hands coming to grip at the underside of your thighs. “you smell so good, can’t believe you lied to me earlier baby, if you didn’t like what i said you could’ve just told me the truth about how you felt.”
you moan as he kisses all over your neck, his usual rough demeanor completely flipping into a soft needy mess of something you’ve never seen before. “didn’t wanna stress you out, if you really felt that way i didn’t wanna pressure you into feeling the way i do. i know this was supposed to be casual i ju—”
“and how do you feel exactly?” sukuna pulls away. “i like you sukuna, obviously. wouldn’t be here with you if i didnt. i really like you and i wanna be your girlfriend, just didn’t think you wanted me.” the alcohol is not helping, the edible from earlier is really beginning to kick in, and the words fall out quicker than you expect them to.
“just wanted to try and forget you for a night, that’s why i was dancing with that guy. and then you showed up and i wanted to make you jealous, im sorry.” with tears slowly building up, you shift slightly further away from sukuna, feeling a bit vulnerable at his gaze.
“no no, think this is all my fault baby. should’ve shown you how much i wanted you from the start. i said all that to you because i was nervous. didn’t know how you felt about me. but now i see just how much i’ve neglected you and im here to make it right.”
you sigh, relaxing at his words. “lay down for me, promise i’ll be so good to you. gonna show you how much you’re worth to me.” sukuna lets you get comfortable, his hands slide under your skirt, removing your panties and burying them into his pocket. his face inches closer to your core, kissing around your thighs and stomach. “i know im not good at telling you how i feel sometimes but i promise if you say yes ill show you everyday how much i want you. be my girlfriend, baby?”
your breath hitches, “yes kuna — i’ll be your girlfriend, now please do something” a whine escaping your lips towards the end of your plea. he spreads your legs apart, licking a stripe between your lips, his tongue circles your clit gently, applying pressure periodically. sukuna brings his fingers to swipe at your clit, gathering your slick and pushing his pointer finger inside of you. your body jolts at the feeling, as you begin to chase your high. after a few seconds of stretching you a bit he adds his middle finger, curling them both upwards inside of you. his other hand grasps at your thigh and you swear you can see the need radiating out of his body as he brings you closer to your first orgasm.
“feels so good sukuna oh my god, i think im gonna c—“
he doesn’t need you to finish telling him, after all, this part isn’t anything new. “yeah? then cum for me, you can do it my love. want to see you come undone from my fingers and tongue. you look so beautiful like this baby.” his tongue goes back to licking you as your first orgasm rushes over you. he talks you through it completely, telling you how gorgeous you are, how lucky he is, and how sorry he is for making you feel this way.
“you feel any better, baby?”
you nod, watching his fingers pull away from you and into his own mouth. “mhmm much better” you say, a smile forming at your lips.
“yeah? just needed me to make you cum didn’t you baby?” sukuna’s hands tug and the waistband of your skirt, sliding it off in one fluid motion. he tosses it across the room, removing his shirt as you do the same.
his hands slide around to your back, flipping you over onto your stomach. you hear the clinking of his belt and then pants hitting the ground very soon afterwards. “gonna give you everything, every piece of me. you’ll take it right, sweetheart?”
before you get a chance to respond you feel his cock pressing between your folds. he mumbles something incoherent as he bottoms out.
you moan as you feel the tip of his cock hit that spot, your back arching into his touch. “fuck kuna, already so deep. i love it.” and that was all you had to say. his hips snap into yours repeatedly, grabbing your hair and bringing you closer to him. the gentle kind words from earlier gone in only a moment, right now his only goal was to make you go absolutely stupid on his cock.
“you love it hm? love the way my cock fits into you like it was made for you? you love the way your body submits to me on instinct because i always make you feel good?” he groans into your ear.
“yes kuna, oh my god please!” you roll your hips to meet the pace of his thrusts, moaning at the harsh grip he has on your hair.
“please what? i’m already giving you what you need, baby. am i not enough huh? you need more?” his other hand comes around to your clit, rubbing circles as he thrusts into you. your body feels warm, but your mind is completely clear. the only thing you can focus on is the way sukuna is ruining you.
“c’mon don’t tell me you already can’t speak, tell me how good i’m making you feel, pretty girl.”
he pulls out, pushing you back down and flipping you over onto your back. you grab at your legs to hold them but he immediately swats at your hand, forcing you into a mating press.
“i’m gonna fuck you the way i want, stop getting in my way” he pushes into you quickly, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch. you squeal out an apology, “kunaaaa ‘m sorry!!” but he doesn’t seem to care, in fact it makes him go harder.
as moans spill from your lips, his pace never falters. the way your pussy clenches around him is heavenly, he thinks he can feel every nerve inside of you at this point. your slick coats his bedsheets as he angles his body to hit your g-spot over and over again.
“cum.” is the only thing he says, and before you realize it’s even happening, you do exactly as he says. “yeahhhhh that’s it, fuck— oh— whats this? are you squirting, baby?”
you cry out, begging sukuna to slow down as your orgasm peaks. “please kuna, can’t take it i need a se-” he covers your mouth with his hand. “you’ve been taking it just fine, don’t start your whining now. only made you cum twice and i know that’s not all she wants. isn’t that right beautiful?” he’s not even talking to you anymore, he’s completely entranced by the way you’re sucking him in even deeper after your orgasm.
sukuna can feel his orgasm approaching, in all honesty he’s lasted longer than he thought he would. after seeing you in that skirt (if you can even call it that), he thought he’d cum the second he bottomed out inside you.
“gonna cum soon, baby. gotta make you cum one more time though, just once that’s all.” he says, mostly to himself.
his middle finger reaches between the both of you to rub at your clit. a moan escapes your lips, the roughness of his fingertip along with your wetness creates the perfect friction on your sensitive bud.
“m already so close kuna, please don’t stop” you whine. he keeps his pace, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. his tongue finds its way around your mouth, exploring every inch. you moan into his mouth, pulling away slightly and opening your mouth.
sukuna gets the hint, letting his spit dribble out into your mouth. the sight of your eyes rolling back as you swallow his spit makes him shiver. your body tenses as your third orgasm of the night crashes over you. “fuck baby, can’t hold it anymore,” sukuna’s thrusts begin to get sloppy and you know this routine all too well.
after a few more thrusts he groans loudly, gripping your thighs roughly. “shittt, take it pretty girl, take all of it” you feel his warmth inside of you, as well as the way his cock twitches. he finally releases the deep breath he was holding, pulling out of you slowly.
you look up at him, smiling like an idiot and poking your lips out for another kiss. he huffs, leaning down to peck your lips before getting up to get a towel.
as he cleans the both of you up in silence, you begin to think about everything that has happened tonight. “you really want me to be your girlfriend kuna? you didn’t just say that because you were je-”
“yes, i really want you to be my girlfriend baby. don’t think there’s a single person in this world who has made me this crazy over them. i was jealous i admit, but ive never felt that for anyone but you which means you’re mine now.” he walks over to his closet, grabbing a shirt for you and a clean pair of sweats for himself.
“i’m the first person to ever make you jealous?” you giggle.
“yes brat, now put this on and let’s order some food, i’m starving.”
you laugh, deciding to not press him any further about his newly found emotion. “can i ask one more thing?” you look over at him as he grabs his phone. he nods.
“who did you text earlier before you got in the car?”
“choso.” he grins.
“the guy i was dancing with? the one who made you jealous? YOU KNOW HIM?” you question.
“mhm, he was the one who told me you were at the bar.” he throws you his phone with the messages open.
—— choso 9:56pm
your girl is here btw. you might wanna come get her before i do, she looks like fun ;)
—————
“so you PLANNED this whole situation.” your mouth is widened in complete shock.
“nah, he wanted to take you home instead but i didn’t think you’d go for it. apparently i was wrong.” sukuna huffs.
“wait… does that mean we can have a threesome?” you smirk.
“maybe” is all he says before grabbing his phone off the bed and pulling you into his chest. you look up at him with a pout, “kunaaaaa” you whine.
“whatever, i’ll text him later. now what do you want to eat?”
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - part four - part five - part six
Status - Ongoing - current WC -64k
pairings- Emperor! Gojo x arranged! Empress reader
summary - you've been set to marry the new emperor Satoru Gojo, but he wants nothing to do with all of that, he doesn't even come to your first meeting - rude! No, he must bathe with his concubines, but when he sees you for the first time and doesn't even know you're his wife? Everything shifts, but it turns out he doesn't know that you're not happy to be here either. Leaving your past love behind and everything you know for a foreign country, just to be unwanted by your new 'husband' is almost enough to break you. You're ready to go through the motions, play your role, but do you really know who Emperor Gojo is?
contents/warnings - heavy angst, depression, enemies to lovers, longing, mutual pining, explicit smut, back and forth games, court tactics, Satoru being a hoe, reader missing her lover Suguru, he falls hard playlist - Ao3 link
headcanons below!
Emperor! Gojo who loves all of his pretty concubines equally, he loves to please them, to tease them, to fill them up. To be a concubine of Satoru Gojo's was the utmost position in the empire, women fought hard to climb the ranks for such a chance. Satoru recently took over the position after his father passed away, and has pushed off marriage proposals left and right, why not just have fun with all his beautiful ladies?
Emperor! Gojo however is now being forced into marriage, he's played a foolish bachelor too long, and the higher ups have brought a perfect match from another land, a young princess who has been brought here just for him. Gojo is completely uninterested in meeting her, why should he be excited, the duties of being an emperor were taxing enough without having to meet some stranger and have to sleep with her, have babies with her. He ignores the meeting he's supposed to attend in favor of spending time with his favorite concubines at once, quite scandalous even for an Emperor.
Emperor! Gojo is a stranger to you as well, as you sit there sipping tea, your ladies in waiting are strangers, everyone you knew was back home, and here you are, made a fool of. There are whispers amongst them all, you can hear them as your teacup clinks on the little ceramic dish, and Emperor Gojo's mother comes in to apologize for his absence. She's a beautiful lady, you wonder if he looks like her errantly, but smile in a feigned politeness, nodding along. After all, it's not as if you were looking forward to this either.
Emperor! Gojo takes a bath with all his women, when you decide to join the bathhouse after quite a long time without one, your mind drifting to the boy you loved when you were forced to leave your home. You remember your kisses, your promises, and the moment you got sent away here, with a man who's currently being fed grapes in the clear bath waters by many women. They're giggling, touching him, and you barely see him as your attendant helps you undress.
Emperor! Gojo has brilliant blue eyes that catch you across the enormous, steamy bathhouse then - he's pausing as he sees you, just wearing a thin white slip of material, curious just who you are. You take some of the soap you've brought, and your attendant washes your hair while he can't take his eyes off you, your curves in that thin material, the way the smooth skin of your thighs is lit up but the lanterns above. You're so beautiful he must know who you are.
Emperor! Gojo feels his mouth go dry when you step into those waters now, standing a bit so that he sees the full outline of your breasts, making his cock twitch under the water, he can't focus on anything but how those droplets of water fall from your skin as you methodically wash yourself. You peer at him just a bit, before lowering your lashes, when he can't help but look at one of his favorite girls, asking - 'who is she?'
Emperor! Gojo doesn't get an answer, no one knows what you look like yet, so he assumes you must be one of the new girls in a position to become a concubine. and fuck if he wouldn't love that opportunity, imagining fucking a baby into you ruins him then. One of his major duties is to have as many babies as he can, to strengthen the empire of course. Yet he tends to be a little apprehensive, he dares to admit he doesn't cum in any of the concubines yet, he doesn't know if he wants children right away. He's young, but of course the pressure is there, and he knows it will be soon, especially with him having to marry. He shoves that annoying thought away.
Emperor! Gojo was supposed to meet his wife today, should he feel bad? maybe. Does he? no, he does not. He steps away and walks across the water, giving you a good look at him then, his chiseled body, narrow torso, pale skin glimmering under the warmth of the room. The stream rises as you look slowly up his body, carved like a statue, then finally make it to his face, truly beautiful. He does look like his mother, those white locks with just a hint of lavender, the beautiful blue eyes even more intense than hers, his body glistening as he walks closer, plump vermilion lips curved in a smile as he murmurs a - 'hello, there, are you new here?'
Emperor! Gojo has a reputation of being kind and fair, though on the battlefield he was ruthless, tales of him were regaled worldwide, and you knew of his military prowess of course. You tremble just a bit as he gets closer, his eyes slipping down your body like a caress. 'I am new here, your majesty' he smiles now. 'No need to be so formal,' the emperor brushes a hand across your hair, marveling in the silkiness now. 'Are you here to be a concubine? I assure you, I have a position opening very soon' he acts as if that's a compliment, as if you should be thrilled your husband to be is willing to fuck a stranger while he ignores your meeting. But you smile, shaking your head. 'ah, you're mysterious, hmm?'
Emperor! Gojo is enamored when he touches you under the water, big hand on the small of your back, taking it over as he steps closer, so tall and imposing in the water. Your breasts brush against his abdomen, as your breaths quicken, a mix of irritation and something more you don't want to admit. 'You know who I am?' you nod a bit, biting your lip when he leans down, pressing you along the warmth of the hard wall behind you. one of his long thighs presses against your heat, and you hate how your body reacts, it feels like such a betrayal of the one you loved, and for a man who doesn't want to even know you? You bite back a sigh when he leans down, an arm on either side of you.
Emperor! Gojo murmurs the words - 'so fucking pretty, god,' and earns your blush, he chuckles as he sees it, flushed color on your cheeks, when his lips hover over yours. 'Can you at least tell me your name, mysterious girl?' when you say it he immediately recognizes it, faltering and stepping back, eyes wide. You smile, meanly then, batting your lashes. 'was such a shame you couldn't meet me for tea, hmm? I see you were otherwise occupied' you eye the girls behind his shoulders, whispering to each other wildly, when you push him back, hands on his chest. 'It's rude not to even meet me after I got dragged on a five day journey on ship, you know.'
Emperor! Gojo sputters, eyeing your hands on his chest that he now pins there for a moment. 'You're my... you can't be... you...' a sigh escapes your lips, as you tug your hands back. 'Yes, I'm your betrothed, I suppose this is our first meeting. I'll leave you to your pretty concubines, I'm afraid I don't intend on becoming one,' you turn and climb up those steps, the slip forming to you like a goddess, as you turn him down. No one has ever turned Emperor Gojo down!? yet here you are, turning and giving him a little smile as your attendant hands you a towel. 'Perhaps you'll make it to the wedding, your majesty'
Emperor! Gojo is wracked with confusion, part of him doesn't even believe you, concubines were known for their beauty and assets, but wives were much different. They were always from some long line of weak women, usually only there for their duty, his own mother was quite an exception, but her and his father never loved each other. He hoped himself to never have to marry, but now he feels just the smallest twinge of guilt for not meeting you. Even for him it was quite the talk, he could hear the rumors of how he doesn't have interest in his bride to be as he walks through the corridors of his opulent estates.
Emperor! Gojo sees glimpses of you here and there that week, but you bow and say no words to him, avoiding him until it is your wedding day. And to say you were beautiful before, now it leaves him speechless, throat dry as you were those beautiful sky blue ceremonial juunihitoe, layers of blue and white, embossed with silver flowers just flowing from your body. He's wearing his thick dark blue sokutai, the robes altered to reveal far too much of his muscled chest, as Satoru liked to do. His heart hammers as you clutch your hands together, feeling the stoic eyes of so many on you. You focus on the tall, handsome man that clearly doesn't want this any more than you do, stepping closer and closer, until you're in front of him.
Emperor! Gojo is still reeling when you both sip on each of the three cups of sake, he places his lips on one end of the little dish, then hands it to you, eyeing the red painted on your lips. Your makeup has been done clearly, there's color under your eyes, blush along your precious cheeks. Precious, why did he think that? the thought irritates him, when you two continue the ceremony. Soon, it's night time, and he's prepared in just a thin Kimono, loosely tied, walking over to your chambers now and entering them, seeing you sitting in front of the vanity, your attendant brushing out your hair. 'You may go,' he orders her, the doors shutting with a loud echo as he inhales the sweetness of your scent, mixing with the incense you've lit.
Emperor! Gojo has a husky tone as he says your name, and you stand up now, wearing just a thin blue robe, he can see your breasts rising and falling with your breath, as the two of you stand across the room. 'The sooner I have a baby, the less you'll have to see me, or do this,' you say then, shocking him. His mouth opens, then closes as he smirks at you. 'And you think that you know how that's done?' you tilt your head just a bit, letting your robes fall then, covered in nothing, completely bare for his eyes. His breaths come far too quickly, heat rising on his cheeks. He's been with countless women, but nothing prepared him for this, for you, when you step up to him slowly, a hand on his chest. 'Should I prepare you, your majesty?'
Emperor! Gojo is furiously blushing now, annoyed you have whatever odd effect this is, he tries to save face, trembling as your fingers dance across the silk of his robe. 'you think you're adequate at it?' he says then, you smile just a bit. 'I've had instruction on how to please my future husband, there are many books that show it,' he laughs, trying to play it off, when he undoes his tie, and he's just in a fundoshi, showing his cock straining while his robes land on the floor. 'Let's see it, then,' he gasps when you're on your knees, glaring as he thinks that maybe you've done this before, and why should that bother him!?
Emperor! Gojo has his cock free then, slapping his stomach as it does, thick and already hard from just seeing you, you bite your lip as the cool stone floor hurts your knees, stroking him slowly, from the base where he has tufts of white hair, to his pink tip leaking milky drops. 'I thought I'd have to get you in this state? the books didn't mention it being ready...' he glares now, you're insulting him without even knowing it, calling out his desperation. He entangles a hand in your hair then, pulling it as you lap at his tip, almost making him cum from that. 'Let's see what you've learned, hmm?' you're stroking him then, little hand up and down in gentle twists, as you suck him into your mouth, deeper and deeper, his eyes roll back in his head as he fucks your hot mouth then.
Emperor! Gojo has never felt anything better even from the most practiced girls, your suction, the way your tongue swirls, as he fucks your throat deeper and deeper, moaning. But mostly, those eyes looking up at him. He's whispering filthy things - 'slutty fucking throat' - then sweet things - 'doing s'good, sweetheart...' a conundrum of a man. You feel your tummy clenching, something you didn't expect, snowy lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, while you taste him, hands pressing on his muscled thighs. He pulls you off him then, saliva dripping from your mouth. 'Was I not adequate?' he laughs without humor, standing you up now. 'Not adequate?' he is lifting you and slamming his lips on yours, tasting himself, before carrying you on your enormous bed, decorated in more blues, the color of the Gojo clan, the colors of his eyes.
Emperor! Gojo has elegant long fingers, they slip down your body as he feels it tremble, fingers touching your slick cunt then. You gasp as he kisses down one of your breasts, sucking a nipple in his mouth, moaning and rutting his cock on the silk blankets as you cry out. 'Your majesty, you don't need to do all of that, just... get it done,' your words make him pause, looking up and seeing you then, lips swollen from his kisses. He pauses and looks down your body, dying to be inside you, but your words fuck him then. All of the concubines wanted Satoru, and you were just 'doing your duty'. He pulls back then, raising a brow at you. 'Do I need to suck you more?' he shakes his head, clearing his throat then - 'tonight, we will not consummate the marriage' - the words hurt you deeply. 'did I displease you?'
Emperor! Gojo doesn't know what it is, but the thought of a woman not wanting him, especially you, infuriates him. He shoves you up the bed then, making you blink in confusion, when he kisses down your tummy, watching it tense as he dreams of making it bulge with his cock. 'Are you untouched?' he asks, you blush then. 'I have not lain with a man, no, but I'm not untouched.' Satoru's furious anyone saw your pretty body, but he makes no comment, he surely hates tradition and wouldn't care if you were or were not a virgin. In fact he prefers experience, but when he sees your pretty pussy, glistening and soaked, he moans softly, the prettiest one he's seen. 'Your majesty, that's not... in the books!? ah!'
Emperor! Gojo has his tongue slipping up your slit then, smirking against your cunt as your mouth is wide. 'Not everything is in your books, sweetheart,' he laps up your slit again, and you whine out, gripping his shoulders, your nails pressing in. 'I'll have you cum on my face tonight,' his words are now muffled as he buries his face in your sweetness, letting the juices drown him, moaning as he works your body. He feels you tense, feels your cunt pulsing around his tongue when he fucks into your tiny hole, holding your thighs apart. You're lost in how good it feels, you've cum before but never have you done this, felt this, so intense, so much pressure. You're screaming out, hips arching as he makes filthy sounds with your squelching cunt.
Emperor! Gojo almost cums from just this, he's never enjoyed this so much, he can't help but pay attention to every little thing. You yank on his hair, as if to tug him off, he clamps down then, sucking your twitchy little clit into his mouth. 'ah! y-your majesty!' he wants you to call him Satoru, he can't say it though, for now he just devours your pussy, until you shatter. There are no words, just filthy, messy sounds, slurping and squishing echoing in your brand new chambers, while you cum all over your new husband's face. You're shaking as you come down, as the orgasm leaves aftershocks, pulsing around nothing, pleasure making you dizzy, blinded. Satoru presses one more kiss on your pretty cunt, smirking down at you now, pressing a kiss to your lips, when you taste yourself you're a blushing mess. 'a lot of talk, I don't think you're ready f'me yet, sweetheart'
Emperor! Gojo is getting up then, as you catch your breath, sitting up and looking at the man you barely know, his eyes linger across your body as he swipes his chin, embarrassingly coated with your slick. 'And where will you go, your concubines to cum?' he chuckles then, leaning low, tilting your chin up as you look at him. 'would that bother you, sweetheart?' you shake your head, it can't bother you, it shouldn't, this will be your life now. 'Ah, you're not the best liar, that won't help you play the court, you know,' he turns and walks away then, leaving you alone, to contemplate it all.
Just who was Emperor! Gojo!?
hehe I hope ya'll enjoy I can't wait to finish up a couple stories and get to this (or be chaotic and do it anyway lmaoo)
You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.
pairings - Arranged! Gojo x Reader x Boxer! Sukuna
warnings!! - Heavy angst, cheating, Satoru is cruel and mean, reader starts off very shy/insecure, Soft Sukuna but he still don't mind being buried inside married reader, a fuck ton of feelings, eventual smut, explicit, mentions of insecurities. This chap - sexual tension like a MF, reader growing as a character, obsessed Sukuna, Gojo is still horrible, kissing, fingering, guided masturbation. Mostly Sukuna/reader this chap and their relationship - also MORE angst.
This WILL have multiple endings, all of these three are gonna be messy. Told from Reader, Gojo and Kuna's POV based on this drabble - WC - 11k
<<<part one
part two
You
You wish that you could turn off your feelings.
Easier said than done, right? To make yourself stop wanting Satoru Gojo, to act like him walking around shirtless didn’t make you ache, that seeing him pleasuring that girl in the office hadn’t made you wonder. Him tumbling into the door with her and kissing her on the wall when he didn’t know you were home, lifting her and grabbing her thighs as she clung to him.
You wonder what it would be like to be desired in that way, staring at the two of them and earning a little look from that woman’s face, a mean, nasty little look that damn near makes you sick. Satoru pauses, looking back with lipstick all over his mouth smeared, but he doesn’t smirk like he did in the office, he pauses just a bit, eyeing you in the little crop top and yoga pants you’re wearing.
His blue gaze slips across your body calculatingly, before he eases her down, turning over to you. “I thought you were ‘boxing’?”
“I am going soon,” you manage to mumble, hugging yourself suddenly insecure, seeing her in her pretty dress as if she’d been on some date with your husband. “I’m sorry.”
You’re apologizing again, for existing in Satoru Gojo’s proximity.
Always a very soft and obedient girl, last night was the first time you stood up to him in any way, and you were met with immediate regret, wondering why you couldn’t be enough for him to at least try. Why weren’t you perfect enough, pretty enough, worth enough for even a kiss, a look, anything?
You had laid in bed thinking of Sukuna and then realizing how dumb and foolish those thoughts were, how pathetic you are for this man who has given you nothing. What, a brief moment where he asked you to eat? Did that make up for making sure his Secretary came before he was able to speak to you?
You’re not sure you hate him yet.
You hate yourself though.
“I’ll be gone in like twenty,” you mumble a bit, Satoru leans down, lips a glossy red like she wears, pressing together.
“You’re apologizing again, for living here?” You nod then, looking down and hearing him sigh. “You’re not gonna make me like you.”
“I’m not trying to,” you wring your hands together, blinking back tears as she sighs and walks right over to the fridge like she fucking lives here. Your jaw sets, breaths coming in short little pants, he grips your chin, tilting your gaze to focus on him. “I’m not.”
“You’re exactly who they programmed you as,” he laughs without humor. “I almost feel sorry for you.”
“Don’t.” Your voice steels just a bit, hating how good his fingertips feel grazing against your skin. “I’ll get my things.”
“Satoru…”
He’s not listening to her as he casually follows you, raising a brow at the pink gloves you bought, slipping his hands in his pockets and leaning in the doorway. “You boxing, huh?”
He laughs softly.
Your teeth clench together.
“You can go fuck her, don’t let me interrupt,” you say then, struggling to gather yourself, chest rising and falling as you snatch up your ear buds, the little water bottle you bought, a few things in a bright pink bag you brought with you from home. You hastily snatch it up, throwing it over your shoulder and seeing he’s still in the doorway studying you.
It’s quiet when you stand in front of him, his fingertips brushing your cheek in a way they shouldn’t, you detest yourself more when you tremble from it. He shakes his head, letting his hand fall, eyes glinting cruelly.
“You’d sink to your knees if I called you pretty, wouldn’t you?” You gasp, stepping back for a moment, as his fucked ass words sink in.
“Go to her,” you murmur. “Why even talk to me, I’m nothing to you.”
“I see how you look at me even now,” he scoffs, brushing his fingertips down your shoulder, tilting his head curiously. “Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”
He draws out those words, leaving goosebumps along your skin, your breaths come quicker. “What?”
“Do you touch yourself,” he leans down, that mean smirk quirking up even more, as he clearly thrives in embarrassing you. “Listening to me fuck her?”
“No!? I’ve never even…” You blush furiously and trail off, you can’t just say that to him, give him more ammo to hurt you.
He raises a brow. “Never?”
“Why do you care, we won’t do that,” you mumble, blood pressure rising so much you feel dizzy, like you can’t catch a breath. “But no. I haven’t, so I don’t touch myself.”
“You’re that much of a good girl for mommy and daddy, huh? Staying all pure for me of all people,” a tear slips from your eye, his gaze watches it trail down without bothering to swipe it away. “What a waste.”
“A waste?” It’s not like you ever even wanted to have sex with someone before. Your jaw sets now, eyes shutting for a moment, another tear traitorous in its escape. “Not all of us love to whore around.”
“Whore around huh,” he crosses his arms now, watching your eyes flicker open. “Admit it.”
“Admit what!?”
“That you’d do anything if I asked,” you swallow down the pain, biting down on your lower lip as his voice drops an octave, a mean caress that sends shivers down your spine. “If you asked pretty enough maybe I’d let you suck me at least.”
Your pause earns his smirk.
“Holy fuck, you would? Hmm,” his cruel gaze gets darker, snowy lashes flickering just a bit. “I guess I’d consider that, but I wouldn’t touch you.”
“I don’t want to,” you finally breathe out. “I wouldn’t… do that with someone who hates me, who doesn’t even want me to exist.” Satoru blinks a bit when you slip your bag higher on your shoulder. “I’m glad that you didn’t.”
It’s utterly quiet.
“Please move.”
He steps aside and you pass by his dumb fucking secretary sitting right at the chair you do, her blouse unbuttoned, just smiling at you, the anger rising like bile in your throat. You’re humiliated again, and you almost said you would – you’d do damn near anything if the man you’d been infatuated with – promised to at that, gave you a tiny bit of attention.
It was all a game to him.
“Have fun boxing,” she has the audacity to say, laughing just a bit at you in the fucking place you live in, in the chair you cry in. You feel so much rage it doesn’t even feel like you – it’s like it belongs to someone else. “Your gloves are so cute!”
“Jennifer,” ah, that’s her fucking name, coming from Satoru’s lips. “Come over here.”
She hops up obediently and you turn to gaze at Satoru by his bedroom door, eyes unreadable, smirk off his face, you don’t even want to know what’s in his mind, even if it’s something half way decent for you. You don’t want to live like this, to have someone so blatantly disregarding your feelings.
“Could you all please keep it in the room?” You ask then, she giggles and Satoru raises a brow. “I live here too, for now.”
“You think the maids wouldn’t clean up all the cum from every surface?” you can’t believe him at that moment. “But yes, we can while you’re still in my home.”
His home.
He makes it dead ass fucking clear, as if you didn’t already know he hates you here, that none of this is going to last because he can’t wait to fucking have you out. You shut your eyes for a moment, hands pressing into the wood of the door before you rush out of the opulent, ostentatious home.
It was once a dream, to drive by Gojo’s home and imagine yourself as his wife, so enamored with the man you thought he was and the kindness you remembered as a child that it felt like a dream come true. Yet it was anything but that, it was all just a cruel joke, much like your life.
Satoru was right on one thing, you did everything to live up to your parents expectations, and that included remaining ‘pure’. If they even knew that you were headed in your car to go boxing of all places and things to do, they’d likely be appalled at you.
Ladies don’t do that – Satoru’s wife doesn’t do that.
Just the small thing for yourself makes you smile a bit, hands gripping the wheel tightly, you swear you see Satoru’s curtain flutter, who knows maybe he’s got her pressed up on the window, pleasuring her and making sure the world knows how he wants anyone but you.
It shouldn’t hurt this bad, you were trained to be the perfect wife even if Gojo did cheat, and you could handle it, as taught.
Yet he didn’t even touch you, his words echoing in your ears and making you so ill you almost throw up remembering. Proving his point – you had so desperately been eager to sink to your knees right for him, if he’d just look at you with anything other than hatred, if he’d brush your hair back and give that look he had when he was with other women.
You can’t be everything your parents want if he divorces you anyway, it’ll bring so much shame on your family and there’s nothing you can do to salvage it, so you have to try to find who you are. You don’t even know – it’s so sad, if someone asked you what you liked you wouldn’t know what to say.
Who are you?
The thoughts keep coming as you sit in front of the boxing gym, so nervous now, not to do something new completely.
Sukuna makes you nervous.
You’ve not felt whatever it was when those ruby eyes hit you, whatever that gaze was on his handsome face. You’ve been hit on plenty, you’ve had boys have crushes on you, yet you had to remain ‘all intact’ and ‘proper’ so you never explored that. Even so, Sukuna looked at you differently, and it felt like a physical touch.
Satoru, it felt like an assessment – Sukuna, it felt like appreciation.
He saw things in you that you’re not sure are there from one meeting – that you weren’t eating, that you’re a mess, things you keep so hidden from even yourself, the perception terrified you. You don’t know what to think about it, how to interpret it, maybe you’re over thinking it too.
The dream last night didn’t help, him kissing up your throat, hand gripping your hair at the nape of your neck. To get him involved in any capacity was dangerous for your family’s reputation, and you’re ‘married’ so surely he wouldn’t want that. Yet those images make you blush.
Even as you walk in now and see a boy standing next to him that looks almost identical, just a shorter, younger version, you smile nervously and wave.
You feel Sukuna’s gaze assessing you, and just that alone is more than Satoru has given you in your marriage. The way he looks at you makes you feel…
Good… Was good the word?
Nervous, apprehensive, tummy fluttering. You swallow nervously, trying not to overthink it – You’re here to get stress out, and maybe to learn who you were, to find an existence away from being ‘Satoru’s wife’.
******
Sukuna
"Sukuna seriously," his annoying little nephew Yuuji is up at the gym with him today. The kid has a hell of a right hook and a hell of an annoying way about him.
Sukuna couldn't help but let him stay with him when he also wanted to get away from all the pressure that came with their family. But now the kid stays over far too much, bringing his friends over and soon dragging them all to the gym too. Sukuna has a bunch of teenagers constantly annoying the shit out of him.
Yet he can't complain, it's good for the business, and it keeps Yuuji and the other kids out of trouble. Yuuji is only eighteen after all, Sukuna is twenty-four – thus the 'mentor'.
Hah, what a mentor he must be.
"She's married!?" Sukuna glares now at the blurted out fucking statement, and Yuuji quickly hushes. "I mean... I know you're all ‘anti the family’ this and that but really?"
"Will you shut your trap kid," Yuuji glares right up at Sukuna, he's damn near a smaller version of his cousin, just with brown eyes instead of red. "I haven't done anything, she's just..."
You walk in then, as if on cue, holding your hands together in front of you nervously, some cute pink pair of boxing gloves that are ridiculous, pink duffel bag slung over one of your shoulders. He can't help but smirk a bit at how… cute, you’re fucking cute. Shy and adorable.
Yuuji eyes you as well, then him, curiously.
"Shit," Yuuji never cusses, so Sukuna raises a brow at him, seeing him run a hand through identical pastel locks. "That's her?"
"Don't say shit in front of her, if you do I'll make sure not to take you to Cabo this summer," Sukuna threatens, but Yuuji frowns, looking intently as you come closer. "Get it out now. Your moral high ground on my thoughts."
"She is very pretty," he murmurs, frowning. "And she does look... she looks so sad."
Sukuna pauses then. You give your best effort with a tremulous little smile, walking up to both of them, taking a breath and holding a hand out to Yuuji.
A forced smile, but it’s as pretty as you. What’s a real one look like?
"Hey there!" You say, Yuuji takes your hand in his, smiling sweetly at you.
"Hey there, welcome to the gym," He's friendly, sweet even. "We have lockers over there if you need!"
"Perfect I'll be right back," your eyes catch Sukuna's and his breath falters. He's never felt anything like wanting to fuck the sadness right out of your body. He knows it's already obsession, already fucking ridiculous. It doesn't stop him. "Sukuna, it's good to see you again."
"You're late," he teases gruffly, you sigh and glare a bit all cute, a look he didn't think he'd see, it does something to him. "Just a few minutes though. Go get ready."
You rush off and Yuuji puts a hand on his chest over his dark blue hoodie, wincing a bit. "Her pain, like I feel it?"
"Yeah," Sukuna mutters, the kid has always been... fuck, what's the word? Empath or some shit. "I know."
"Just... be careful Sukuna. You don't know who she's with."
"I'm not afraid of anyone, have you seen me?" Yuuji rolls his eyes.
"Yeah I saw you, and you couldn't even stop the drool from coming out of your mouth." Sukuna scowls, fists clenched at his sides, one step making Yuuji back up. "I've um... gotta go!"
"Nice to meet you!" You wave at Yuuji as you come out, in a little sports bra and shorts, as if to fucking torture him. Yuuji waves and smiles sweetly at you, leaving Sukuna alone with you in the quiet of the gym. "He looks just like you! Your little brother?"
"Annoying nephew," you laugh a little, the sound doing something to him again, fuck he doesn’t know what it is. Yuuji is right, he has to be careful, to try to hold back.
But holding back really isn't Sukuna's thing.
"So," he draws on the words, seeing how you hug yourself a bit around your waist, as if you're nervous to have it bare.
It takes a lot of effort not to just touch your body, make you feel as pretty as you are, see how those eyes could light up if you came all over his mouth, if he drank you. He knows he can't say that shit, so he instead teases you, tugging at the little ponytail you're wearing.
"Tell me where you got these dumb gloves, and you better tell me you've fucking eaten something too."
“They’re so cute, excuse me!” You cover your mouth then, eyes lowering. “Sorry that came out so rude-”
“I like it, see if there’s something feisty underneath all this,” he gestures to all of you then. “Perfect little girl, time to mess you up. Get you all sweaty and wrecked.”
He watches a blush dance on your cheeks underneath the bright lights overhead, you shift just a bit, nodding. “I want to see if there is, too.”
“You don’t know?” He asks, and you sigh, blinking back tears again.
Fuck what’s happened to you to make you constantly on the verge of them? Sukuna wasn’t some ‘mr fix it’ especially when it came to women. He liked things simple, fun, unattached, never has he been so obsessed with what’s going on in a mind like he is yours.
Be careful. Could he be?
“I want to learn who I am, I know I’m like twenty four and don’t know,” you shake your head a bit and sigh. “Quarter life crisis?”
He snorts at that. “You make jokes?”
“I don’t know,” you answer softly. “I’m trying?”
“Meh it wasn’t that funny,” he shoves playfully but you’re so damn weak you stumble, he grabs you quickly, holding you too closely. “You said you ate.”
“I did, I swear, just still feeling it I think?” Your hand rests on one of his biceps, he sees that blush up close, spreading down your neck. “I really ate dinner and breakfast!”
“Can’t box if you’re falling over and shit,” he sighs, his hands still on your waist, shaking his head a bit. “I’ll show you some basics, you just pay attention for now. I’m grabbing you a protein bar.”
“I’m okay!” Sukuna ignores you, coming back with a bar and shoving it unceremoniously in your hand. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, your eyes are too pretty looking up at him like that, and he needs to make you comfortable. Not do every filthy thing he keeps thinking of – fuck that sadness right out of you. How can he fucking think that? “Come with me, and you better finish it.”
“You’re bossy,” you tease, he snorts and rolls his eyes, feeling the warmth of your skin with your close proximity. “It’s good!”
“Hmm, you’re just starving, those suck,” you sigh, chewing thoughtfully, when he shows you to the training area. “You need some muscle so I suggest doing some light weights first, then next time maybe I’ll let you hit a bag.”
“Got it,” you murmur, mouth just a little full, the wrapper crinkles a bit as you down it. “Maybe I was hungry? I’ve not had an appetite.”
“Yeah, sounds like…” He trails off now. “You have stress at home.”
You laugh a little without humor. “You could say that.”
Sukuna’s jaw tightens just a bit, feeling his teeth press together in irritation at the thought of whatever has you like this. Yet in just a good twenty minutes you relax your shoulders just a bit, you smile a little more real and not forced, he watches as you ease just a bit with every movement.
“These are tiny weights, I can do more,” you pout as he puts ten on each arm. Sukuna shakes his head. “I can!”
“Yeah champ okay,” he grabs twenties and watches your arms drop down, stabilizing you and smirking. “You’re a regular Arnold.”
“Oh hush!” He takes them and tugs and your pony tail again, you dab just a little sweat off your brow.
“You are bratty, see?”
“I am so not,” you get a little quiet at his hands on your wrists then, clearing your throat and looking down so shy and cute.
Sukuna would just corrupt you.
You’re clearly an innocent little thing and his thoughts are about as far from that as they could be, it’s hard to pull back and act casual – as if this is normal and he just grips on his clients’ fucking biceps. You’re so fragile then as he studies you for a heartbeat too long, you don’t move away, just staring up at him. Your pupils dilate and make your eyes too damn pretty.
“You good?” He manages to ask, rubbing the back of his neck, annoyed by whatever the fuck effect this is.
“I am, thank you Sukuna,” if your lips would stop moving like that, if your voice would stop sounding that way, maybe he would be all right and not throbbing just inhaling your scent. “You’re very sweet.”
“Me? Tch, m’not sweet,” he rolls his eyes as you giggle again, turning away so you don’t see the dopey grin on his face before he gets rid of it, turning back and raising a brow. “I’ll show you some movements and you can come hit the bag tomorrow.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sukuna wraps his knuckles as you look around a bit. “You are seeing me after the gym closes, you don’t have to.”
“I usually stay after anyway,” he just wants to fucking be alone with you. “Not a problem.”
“I’ll come a little earlier tomorrow, if that’s okay?” Your brows draw together.
“I don’t care, whenever, come hold this for me. I won’t accidentally punch you, don't worry.”
“I didn’t think so,” you go over and hold it, gasping when you feel the impact, looking at him curiously. “You think I’ll really be able to hit this thing?”
“Mmhmm, of course you will,” he takes it easy, even if you’re behind the bag he doesn’t want to scare you. He typically doesn’t have girls in the gym.
He shows you a few of the basics, and you study him carefully, he doesn’t realize he’s getting distracted until he stops punching and focuses on you, you’re watching him intently, your eyes flickering down his body, then to his lips before shooting back up to his eyes quickly.
Sukuna smirks a bit at you, walking around the bag to stand in front of you. “What is it?”
“N-nothing,” you squeak out, lashes trembling. “You look – I mean you are very good.”
He snorts at that, you’re too fucking cute. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
He leans against the bag now, stepping closer and looking down at you “You’re were staring.”
“I didn’t mean to,” you whisper, eyes lowering. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be, I don’t mind,” he murmurs back, his eyes lowering to your lips, watching them part just slightly. He leans in a fraction, your breath catches – he hears it, a sharp little inhale. “I’m just teasin’ ya, okay?”
Sukuna’s voice is soft to his own ears, he almost feels the need to be gentle when it comes to you, you’re so delicate and afraid. You nod and wring your hands a little bit in front of your lap. “I couldn’t help it.”
“I look that good?” He’s chuckling as you cover your face all cute. “It’s okay, I already know I do.”
“You’re teasing me!” He eases your hands down, sighing at the contrast of his huge hands around your wrists.
“Yeah, I was, don’t take me serious, yeah?” You nod and just stand there, when he drops his hands and clears his throat. “Finish up, then I’ll walk you out.”
You just stand there for a moment, breathing softly as he watches you bite your lip now, staring at him nervously. He wonders what you’d do if he just kissed you? He wonders how you’d taste, if you’d melt into him, if he could kiss you on every inch of your body.
He can’t be this way.
“Okay,” you whisper, turning away to grab your stuff quickly. He walks you out silently to the back exit, the cool air whipping your hair around – this time of year, it was chilly and dark early. “Time went quick.”
“Yeah,” he looks at you carefully then. “What had you almost in tears this morning, or can you not tell me?”
You tug your bag closer, sighing. “The other woman was just… in my fridge and on my couch and it threw me off.”
“Other woman?” You nod. “In your house?”
“Yeah, I could handle it if maybe he could keep it to his room,” Sukuna’s brows raise now and you hesitate. “It had me upset more than usual.”
“You just… are okay with it?” You look down at his lips once more, if you don’t stop doing that he’s gonna lose his tentative control. “Why?”
“It’s arranged, that sounds archaic–”
“Nah,” Sukuna sighs now. “Let me guess, rich family?”
“Yeah, are you?” He smirks. “The name sounded familiar? I don’t know how I didn’t put it together.”
“Yep,” he drags out that word with a pop of his lips. “I’m from that shitty ass line of family, I just decided to tell them all to fuck off. You should try it, it’s fun.”
“Saying ‘fuck off’ huh?” You giggle again, shaking your head as he smirks down at you. “That’s impressive to not bow under pressure.”
“I just wasn’t one for rules, decorum, I just don’t give a shit,” he shrugs a broad shoulder. “Arranged shit was in my parents’ plans but in that I also told them to fuck off. But that’s enough therapy.” He flicks your forehead, you rub it and glare.
“Ah, stay all mysterious,” you tease just a bit, hesitating and then turning. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Mhmm,” you turn to look at him one more time, suddenly stepping forward and tip-toeing, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
Fuck.
You should not do that.
“Thank you again,” you murmur shyly, stepping back quickly and rushing to your car like you’re embarrassed by the little action.
Sukuna jerks off that night to a kiss on the cheek from a shy, sweet little woman who is married, and wishes he felt worse about imagining decorating you in ropes of cum, but he really doesn’t. Moreso he’s irritated you’ve made him so pathetic in the span of a couple days.
He was fucked.
*****
You
You’re wolfing down eggs and bacon when Satoru walks out the next morning, eyeing you curiously at the array of food on the counter. You should tell him to fuck off really, just like Sukuna said you should tell everyone but some part of you would like to not hate Satoru Gojo, some part would like some sort of peace or even an understanding, for him to stop his cruelty to some extent.
So you smile, and he pauses, shirtless and just in his boxers, but your smile freezes on your face when you observe the dark hickies littering him right over his pelvis. It’s his turn to smirk as he walks closer to you, putting a coffee pod in casually, as if it’s normal to have hickies on your v cuts by your happy trail.
Why are you hurt, you knew he was with her?
“Good morning,” you manage to try to be cordial. “I made a big breakfast if you’re hungry.”
“You know I have cooks,” he says, nibbling a muffin then moaning, his snowy lashes fluttering shut. “Oh fuck.”
“I like to bake,” you say with a little shrug, he pauses as he watches you nibble your own. “It gives me something to do. I think I may… get a job or something.”
“Why, you have enough money you never need to even without me.”
“Why, to give me… something?” You say, shrugging a bit. “I’ve never been able to work other than at charity functions, so I guess my resume would be kind of shitty though.”
“You don’t need to work while you’re here, it would just look bad,” you blink again. “Maybe work with me but…”
“Yeah, no,” he chuckles, as if it’s funny. “Bad enough the secretary is over at my… your house, now.” You correct yourself, tension between you both rising as you stand in the kitchen, his eyes sweep over you.
“Going to box again?”
“I am,” you’re wearing a sweater over your top this time, hanging just a bit off your shoulder, his gaze drifts down to it. “I think I like it.”
“Ah,” he steps closer, leaning down. “You ever figure out how to touch yourself?”
“If I did I wouldn’t do it thinking of you,” he glares and you smile now. “You’d be the last guy in my mind.”
“Sure, sweetheart, keep tellin’ yourself that, I see how you look at me,” you scoff, tensing when he brushes his fingers on your shoulder. “I can tell by every reaction you want me.”
You smack his hand off and he smirks. “You told me we’d never do anything, be anything, so stop trying.”
“Ah, you gave up on your little goal? Don’t wanna leave better marks on me than Jennifer?”
You feel sick.
“You know what, Gojo?” He raises a brow. “You’re not just mean, not just cruel, you’re sadistic, like you don’t just want me gone, you want to torture me.”
It’s quiet now, you blink back tears of frustration, of pain, feeling your heart pound in your chest.
“I said I’ll not try again, and I mean it,” you look away. “Whether I want you or not, I never will.”
He continues his silence, when your gaze meets his it’s softer, blue eyes unreadable, as if there’s a hint of humanity in him. What a joke, what a delusion to think he’d have even the most basic empathy for you.
“I didn’t do anything to deserve how you act,” your whisper breaks in the middle, traitorous tears leaking. “All I did was try. Now I give up, you get what you want.”
Satoru’s fists clench at the sides, taking a breath now. “You’ll thank me.”
“I’ll what!?”
“You’ll thank me,” he murmurs again, slipping your sweater up over your shoulder, fingertips brushing. “For not letting you be with me, for letting you have your own choice.”
“Acting like you’re being such a great fucking guy,” you never cuss but it spills out, when out of frustration you shove at his chest, not like he’ll move, glaring up into his eyes. “Mr. ‘hold on let me cum’ really? There’s no world where I’ll thank you for what you’ve put me through these past few weeks.”
You rush out past him and hear him murmur your name, you ignore it completely, gathering your things and rushing out, tears swimming even as you drive over to the gym. How can Satoru continue to hurt you like this and then have the audacity to act like he’s being kind!?
You barely get yourself together, peering in the mirror to fix yourself up, dabbing concealer to hide your sleepless night. It was hard to sleep when your husband was loudly moaning across the house, and when you kept thinking about Sukuna and the little kiss on his cheek.
Was it too far? Would it be weird?
Why do you want his lips so bad? Sure, he’s handsome, but the pull is more than that, as if you know he’d be able to kiss you the way you always dreamt – as much as you’re trying to hold back, it’s there. The feeling when you step into the busy gym, seeing Sukuna training in the ring with his nephew, he tackles him down and laughs so loud it echoes off the walls.
“Hey! Off me!” Yuuji shoves at him, but he’s way bigger, you blush as you think just how huge Sukuna is, he’s even taller than Satoru and you thought that pretty impossible. “You cheated!”
“Didn’t cheat, kid, you just weren’t paying attention,” his gaze hits you then, and he falters, only to get slammed down by Yuuji quickly.
“Hah! Got you,” Sukuna smacks his hand away as he grins, he’s literally adorable, the sunshine to Sukuna’s grumpy nature. Your heart tugs just a bit with affection at the sight, when Yuuji sees you and waves. “Hey, did you see me stomp his ass?”
“I did,” Sukuna snorts and stands on his own, brushing off his gym shorts, leaning a bit against the ropes and taking you in. “Hey Sukuna.”
“You’re actually on time,” he peeks at his watch. “Early.”
“Breakfast too,” you grin and he chuckles, suddenly it’s like that gym is just white noise and it’s all him, hopping over the ropes and down the platform, the sounds of sneakers squeaking on hardwood and punches drowned by your beating heart. He comes to stand and cross his arms, ruby eyes assessing you. “Protein, it was all protein filled.”
“Good,” he ruffles your hair like you’re Yuuji, you huff a bit, but part of how touch starved you are? You want him to keep patting your head, almost leaning into the quick little touch.
What’s wrong with you?
He’s friendly, kinder than you are used to – your own parents were not much better than Satoru, yet their cruelty was more in dismissing you, in the strict nature they raised you, the coldness. You grew up privileged and know you shouldn’t feel sorry for yourself, but the pain was there, only having been made better by the dream of Satoru taking you far away.
Some dream, a cinderella tale, you’re not sure what the fuck you were thinking, were you enamored with his pretty eyes, his kindness? With Sukuna you had those butterflies like you did that night Satoru unzipped your dress, but it was without that sinking feeling in your stomach.
The next couple days you spend at the gym – sometimes watching him, sometimes training a bit, the people there are all so friendly it feels nice. You find yourself there longer than usual, a little stronger, you keep waiting for Sukuna to let you spar or something cool, but he eases you into a few different things.
You enjoy him so much you find yourself staying after and wiping down equipment, seeing him raise a brow and laugh at you, telling you to go. But what’s waiting at home? Satoru and whoever he decides to bring home for the evening? It’s not just the secretary, you wish that it was only her in fact, she at least pretended to be a little nice to you.
You’re not sure if Satoru even works or if he just gets his dick wet.
You pass him in the morning and see one of them knocked out in his bed with the door cracked open, and that’s when you feel a deeper pain, eyeing him sleeping next to her. They’re not cuddling, but she’s sleeping in his bed. Alone in the room that was made for the two of you, staring up at the ceiling and touching your lips, thinking of kissing Sukuna then.
You can’t.
You shouldn’t.
Two wrongs don’t make a right, but something about that sends you over the edge – pushes you to where you don’t feel so terrible thinking of what you want to do. It’s just a step further even for him, your interactions get even shorter, he doesn’t taunt you as much since you got upset in that kitchen, but now it’s like living in a home where you’re unwanted.
You can’t wait to leave, for whatever he needs to figure out to cause the least scandal, you’re tired of smiling on his arm for the get togethers, only to sit on opposite sides of the backseat of that limo in the quiet. You’re lonely until you go to that gym, but you know it’s nonsense, Sukuna has not tried to kiss you or cross that line, even when his touches linger.
He’s a good man, a good uncle clearly, maybe a good friend – and all you can think half the time is those tattooed hands touching you longer, in places you know you shouldn’t want them. Trailing your hands up his biceps and feeling the strength in them, falling into his kisses until you’re dizzy.
It’s hard not to think of it when you watch his body move.
He’s shirtless today as if to distract you more, the way he’s built is enough to make you miss your punch, earning his chuckle, teasing glint in his ruby eyes. “Distracted?”
“No,” you’re such a liar. This morning threw you off seeing that girl in his damn bed, and now you can’t stop staring at your trainer’s body. “Just a bit.”
“What’s on that mind of yours?” Everyone has left for the day, you and him are all alone in the enormous gym, your pink gloves on your hands.
“A lot,” you murmur, punching the bag again and again, remembering to cross as he showed you, then wincing a bit as your wrist twists. “Ouch!”
“Bad angle, lemme see,” he carefully slips it off, thumb brushing your inner wrist, you suck in a breath. “I think you just kinked it a bit. Does it hurt to move?”
You shake your head, but you don’t move your hand, you keep it in his grip, biting down on your lip so hard it hurts. He’s too close, too fucking big all over – you shouldn’t think of everywhere. Not like you’ve even seen one aside from Satoru after he’d been inside that ‘jennifer’ whatever the fuck her name was, and that didn’t make you ‘excited’.
You’re curious at times, at how wet you get around Sukuna, but as a sheltered girl who was hardly allowed friends – and they’re all trad wives – there hasn’t been much talk. ‘Let your husband do anything and just live that way’ was damn near their advice – though that did land you here, after all.
“You’re real distracted,” you sigh, nodding. “Lemme guess, your husband has a new girl over?”
“She slept in his bed,” you blink back emotion, shaking your head, Sukuna just quietly checks your wrist, moving it a bit. “You’d think I couldn’t hurt anymore, couldn’t feel anymore pain about it.”
“I think you’re surprisingly calm about it,” he says then. “Arranged or not, how would anyone not want you?”
Your world shifts on its axis at his gruff little confession, you’re blushing furiously now, stepping a little closer, feeling his warmth near you sink in. “Sukuna, that's sweet.”
“You keep trying to call me that,” he shakes his head – thumb slipping across the delicate veins raised on your inner wrist. “I’m not sweet.”
“You are to me,” he scoffs. “You make me feel better, that is sweet.”
“The things I’m thinking are as far from fucking ‘sweet’ as they can be,” you gasp then, when his hand slips up your arm, before he stops himself, pulling back when you wish he wouldn’t. “How innocent are you?”
“Very,” you admit. “But you could tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Hah,” he has one arm on either side of you when you press against the bag you’d just been hitting, he’s right behind you, cupping your face with a calloused, rough hand so big it takes you over. “You’d run out the door if I told you half of it.”
He backs off then, leaving you trembling, hand on your chest, going to open your mouth when he hops down as if to rush away from you. Terrified you’ve fucked it all up you hop down too, rushing to get your bag, Sukuna comes back with a little brace for your wrist and glares.
“You running off?”
“I made it weird,” you mumble, suddenly so insecure. If your own husband could fuck anything but you, what made you think Sukuna would want you being married, complicated, messy.
“I was just getting a wrap, get over here,” he tugs you over to him, sitting you on one of the cool metal benches. “Your wrists will toughen up in time.”
“Okay,” every time he touches you it sends waves of desire, your teeth clamp down on your lower lip, trying to focus. “Thank you, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry you hurt your wrist?” You nod, making Sukuna sigh now, shaking his head. “Stop apologizing for the dumbest shit. You’re fine.”
It’s awkward when you leave this time, too much between you both, your doubts raging even as you come home. For once, Satoru has no girl there, dressed in a suit and gazing over at you, gaze rushing across your body. He has no business looking that pretty and being that cruel.
“You’ve been training a lot,” he mentions, tilting his head curiously. “Every day seems excessive.”
“I like it,” you slip off your sweater, a little warm with the heat blasting, and then you feel his eyes hit your breasts. “Sorry it’s warm.”
You’re apologizing again.
For ‘dumb shit’. Is that just what you do, what you’ve always done?
“We have an event in an hour.” You nod and rush off to get ready, struggling into your dress so you don’t have to ask him for help again, he stands by the bathroom, the door open, crossing his arms. “What happened to your wrist?”
“Oh, I twisted it,” you take off the little velcro now. “It probably would look bad with the outfit.” He just shrugs, eyeing the marks left from the brace. “Do I look all right? I don’t think I have time to do makeup.”
“I guess,” that’s his answer.
‘I guess.’
You suppose it’s better than him telling you he’s unattracted again, you already know that now, looking at yourself in the mirror and hastily trying to do something with your hair. “What’s the event?”
“Some dumb fucking charity auction,” he eyes his phone now. “I thought that Jennifer told you.”
“No, she did not,” you scoff then, looking at him. “You ask your mistress to send me your itinerary?”
“She’s my secretary so yes, that’s what she’s for,” you can’t with him, especially his mean little smile. “That make you mad?”
You say nothing, you’re not taking his obvious bait – pushing past him quickly and grabbing your clutch, seeing a pair of black lace panties underneath the little glass side table then. Your jaw sets, glaring over at him.
“I asked you to keep the fucking to your room,” he frowns, looking down now, sighing. “What the fuck, Gojo?”
“I didn’t fuck her out here,” he answers with a shrug. “Just fingered her.”
You blush and he laughs softly, walking up to you, tilting your chin so that you’re forced to meet his gaze.
“Haven’t been fingered even?” You refuse to answer, jaw setting, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, his fingers drifting down your dress, achingly slow, blue eyes dilating just a bit. “You’re all heated thinking of it, huh?”
The backs of his knuckles drag against your puffy folds over your dress, you bite down on your lip, hating what his eyes do, when they look for a moment like maybe he would want you. You grip his wrist firmly though, shocking him for a moment when you shove his hand off.
“Aren’t we late?”
*****
Gojo
“Satoru,” his best friend frowns at him, seeing you across the room sitting alone, avoiding everyone and everything. “She looks miserable, the fuck are you doing?”
“She’ll be free soon enough,” Suguru narrows his eyes, Satoru’s mind goes to earlier when you gripped him so damn strong out of nowhere.
What sort of working out were you doing, and with who? The thought of someone touching you makes him unreasonably jealous, considering any time he did you froze like you did. He almost felt your heat, imagining the slick, perfect little cunt you must have that he actively turned down.
Now it’s driving him insane, you are gone all the time, not even bothering to look at him. Isn’t this what he wanted, you to hate him, to get over your dumb crush and realize he’s not worth it? Satoru will never love anyone, he knows that he's not capable of it any more than his parents were capable of loving him.
He supposes Suguru was as close as he got to ‘loving’ someone, though even his best friend was done with his shit clearly.
“She seems really sweet,” Satoru sighs.
“She is annoyingly sweet. And perfect. And pure.” He says it with disdain.
“So you need an average, slutty ass secretary?” Satoru rolls his eyes, sipping on his whiskey. “I’m sorry everyone knows.”
“Good, give the Gojo name a scandal,” his lips quirk up. “She is too sweet for someone like me anyway.”
“I don’t understand why you’re going that far,” Suguru says, shaking his head. “Have you even looked at her? If you had to be arranged, wouldn’t you want it to be someone like her?”
“You like how she looks so much, you go fuck her,” Suguru glares at him, and Satoru tenses when he realizes you’re walking past right behind Suguru, looking up at him with devastated eyes.
Those eyes.
He didn’t love to hurt you, despite what you thought, he just needed you to give up, to not have any feelings, and you still seem to. Still seem to respond to him, still try for whatever reason. He’s given you no possible sign that he feels what he feels, that he does want you, he does think you’re beautiful, he couldn’t say that shit when he’s finally got you shoved far enough away.
Yet he hates himself for it, loathes himself for the tears in your eyes as Suguru turns and sees you, flush on his cheeks, scowling back at his own friend. Satoru opens his mouth then closes it, seeing that you’re about to break apart hearing it – that he told his best friend to go fuck his wife because he won’t.
“Let’s dance, hmm?” Suguru asks you, and Satoru watches you take his hand and nod, swiping a tear with a tremulous smile.
“Yes please,” Satoru watches you both, leaning back against the wall, studying how his hand takes over your waist, how you seem…
Happy at that moment.
“Satoru Gojo,” his mother’s voice is in his ear, right next to your parents, he blinks just a bit. “We’d like to know what’s going on.”
“Is she not doing good enough?” Your mother asks, Satoru frowns then, blinking just a bit.
“We tried our best to make sure she was perfect for you,” that’s your dad, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is she giving you trouble?”
“Is she giving me trouble?” He’s dumbfounded at their question, looking back at you on the floor.
“You could stand to keep your affairs discreet,” his mother chides. “You don’t need to flaunt them around even if she’s not adequate.”
Not adequate – you.
This is why he fucking hates this.
“We can keep her for a bit, if she needs more polishing.”
“She’s not a fucking golden retriever who needs training,” he says then, earning their surprised looks. “She’s polished to a tee, I assure you.”
“Then surely there’s more we can do, she does look disheveled," your mom says, Satoru swallows down guilt now.
This would only look bad on you. He’s a Gojo, he can do whatever the fuck he wants, he’s a man and you’re…
“I’ll dance with her, yeah?” He gets them to shut up for now, he’s still got too much going on, trying to find the best way to annul the marriage without you getting hurt in the process.
Well, more hurt.
When he cuts in, you’re stiff in his arms, he tugs you against him, remembering the first dance he had, where he had the maid’s cunt all over his fingers. You tried even then, pathetically trying when you look like that, and it all starts to make sense why you are so desperate, meeting them.
“Act like you enjoy it, they’re on my ass,” he says gruffly. He doesn’t want to hear more shit about you ‘training’ or getting ‘polished’ but he doesn’t tell you that, his hand on the small of your back. “Smile like you did at Suguru.”
“I like Suguru,” you say softly, a mean smile on a usually shy, soft face, stabbing Gojo in the heart. “I don’t like you.”
He chuckles now, leaning low and murmuring your ear. “That’s perfect.”
*****
You
You’re extra aggressive after that night, after hearing him so casually not just dismiss you as a woman but tell his friend to ‘have at it’.
You’re imagining his dumb pretty face as you punch the bag over and over, Sukuna is quiet, it’s early before he even opens the gym but when you asked to come he had no problem, he was there early anyway. You couldn’t stand one more moment not hitting something, all of the energy you’ve spent crying over Gojo, over your fucking parents.
Coming to you all ‘disappointed’ when you’ve done NOTHING but try, what’s it got you, what’s anything get you? Perfect, perfect, perfect – for what. It keeps racing in your mind until you feel sick to your stomach, breaths coming in short little pants, hitting it so hard you almost tweak your sore wrist, but you welcome the pain, until Sukuna steps back.
“Hey,” Sukuna is dabbing a little washcloth on your brow, you're shaky and overheated from punching that bag so damn hard. The cool cloth feels good against your clammy skin, you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. "Feel better?"
"Actually yes," you look up into those ruby eyes that hold so much in them, lost for a moment. He grabs you a water and twists it open, you drink from it – a little drop slipping across your chin, he swipes it with ease, making you tremble.
Fuck you want him, you want to feel what it’s like, whatever he thinks you’re ‘too sweet and innocent’ to hear. You want to know what’s behind those eyes, so fucking guarded, but you don’t know how to say it when you stand in that ring with him. It’d be so selfish to drag him into your fucked life, but for some reason he deals with you, he spends the time.
Your friend, he’s your friend right?
Yet when Sukuna’s sooty pink lashes lower, and his hands gently fix one of your bobby pins up, you catch his wrist without thinking. He pauses, teeth glinting with his little grin. "Practicing self defense against big ass pink haired men who touch your hair, huh woman?"
You know he's joking with you, but you step closer, breath catching when you inhale his scent in your nostrils. Not that obnoxious cologne Satoru wears, it's real and male and musky – sweat mixed with something inherently him. It shoots straight to your core, the need for him in every single way, drawing you in like a moth to a flame, like his gravity is pulling you.
Sukuna exhales, letting you put his hand on your cheek, so big and tall over you, shadows casting across the boxing ring.
“Treading in dangerous territory, brat,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t move your hand, letting you slip your fingers across the jut of his jaw, feeling his pulse fluttering when it slips across his neck.
"I don't want to get you involved in my mess, Sukuna," you say then, catching his attention, pulling back ever so slightly.
"Maybe I don't mind a mess," you sigh, looking at his plump lips, his tattooed hand tugging you closer by the waist until you’re almost against him. "Messes are my specialty. Wanna know why?"
You swallow nervously, trembling in front of him, sweat making you shiver just a bit as the AC kicks on overhead, cooling sweat soaked skin. "Why?"
"Because, I'm damaged too, I just hide it better than you," you shut your eyes for a moment.
"I've only kissed once," he blinks a bit, frowning. "So maybe I'll suck at this."
"What now-"
That's when you - Mrs. Gojo - tiptoe and kiss Ryomen Sukuna on his lips.
And that's when he drags you against him and presses your back on the ropes around the boxing ring, moaning. Hard body, hot and heavy, a thigh pressing where you've never been touched, making you whine out, lifting you like it’s nothing. His tongue slips past the seam of your lips, gripping you so tight you can’t breathe.
You don’t want to though, you want him to take all your breath away.
For the first time maybe ever, you feel so wanted, the way he devours you like he's waited forever for it, moaning against your skin and easing you down then, letting you slip down his body, cupping your face. Huge hands taking it over – his breath coming in pants, this look in his eyes, his pupils swallowing those irises until they’re black underneath those pink lashes.
“Don’t do that,” he huffs, shoulders heaving up and down.
“I’m sor-”
“I’ll fucking break you,” your tummy clenches in response, pussy drooling at his desperation, looking at you like you’re it. “Ruin your perfect little cunt, is that really what you want?”
“Ruin my… um… you…” You don’t even really get his terminology, but the way he says it just makes you slip your arms across his neck. “You didn’t mind the kiss, then?”
He laughs, shaking his head before a sorrow hits his eyes, brushing your hair back with one hand, the other pulling you close. “Do I mind it?”
“I haven’t done anything,” you admit, the insinuation clear as hands drag along the curve of your waist. “I don’t know if-”
Sukuna cuts you off with another kiss, tongue delving into the recesses of your mouth, holding you up so his thickness presses your needy cunt through the thin layers of your yoga pants and his gym shorts. You taste a hint of that coffee he had earlier – mixed with the light salt of his sweat dripping from his lips, groaning as he feels your thighs wrap him.
“Mmm, if you don’t go I’ll fucking break you,” you’re too far gone, just rolling your hips, making him suck in a breath while precum leaks and makes him sticky. His breaths mingle with yours, all the tension of this week coming to a head, he’s done holding back yet he still tries to. “M’not fucking kidding. Should go.”
“Do you want me to go?” His answer is somehow gently landing you on the white floor underneath your feet – now on your back – and spreading your thighs, pressing up between them so hot and thick. “Sukuna…”
“Don’t say my name that way, fuck,” his lips are all over you, tongues dancing so messy with that saliva dripping you blush. Your fingers trail down his abdomen, over the rippling muscles, feeling them tense and bunch. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”
“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, finding him then, watching his eyes flutter shut. “I wanna hear the things you won’t say.”
“You don’t.” His grip is on your wrist, pinning it over your head. Your breasts heave up and down, one of his hands slipping under your top, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“I’ll tell you something I think,” he raises a slutty eyebrow, two barbells that make it even sluttier, just that look has you writhing under him, as you bite down on your lip. “Deal?”
“What’s your cute little comment, hmm? Wanna hold my hand?” You glare and he chuckles. “I love when you scowl.”
“I have never touched myself,” Sukuna’s face goes into shock, red eyes wide. “Never um… came. And last night, I thought of you and… I tried to. I don’t know what I was doing and it didn’t work, but I thought of you and was…”
“Don’t say it.”
You sigh, suddenly feeling bold with him.
“Wet.”
“Fuck me,” Sukuna’s taking back over your mouth, kisses more desperate and hungry by the moment, you’re soaked when he finds your puffy cunt for the first time, tentatively slipping a fingertip inside and hissing, you gasp out. “Cunt is way too small, I’d split you in half.”
Whatever he means you’re just wetter, gasping when he pulls it back before he gives you what you crave. Slick fingers on your lip, watching your blush for a moment before kissing your cunt off him, a hand now under your head so it doesn’t hurt pressing into the ring’s floor. Your thighs spread for more, arching your hips.
“Too fuckin’ pretty,” you shake your head, blinking tears and making him halt, scowling. “You are.”
“You’re-”
“If you say sweet I’ll bruise your cervix,” you’re a flustered mess at that, earning his groan of frustration, taking your hand in his, nipping your finger with his teeth, sharp pain pressing in. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“Deal?”
“If you can make yourself cum for me tonight, I’ll let you use my fingers tomorrow,” your fingers slip down your puffy folds guided with his own, before he pushes yours up. “Your clit, rub it.”
“It’s… ah!” Sukuna watches you jolt at your own touch, pulling your fingers away as if burned, cheeks flushing.
"Twitching I bet," he sighs, amused, hovering over you and putting your fingers back down. “Do you want me to make you cum tomorrow?”
You nod eagerly but you don’t feel ‘pathetic’ with Sukuna, he wants you just as desperately. “Y-yes.”
“Be a good girl,” you whine out, making him smirk just a bit. “Touch it again, little circles."
Those fingers find your clit again, this time obeying him and testing the little movements, shaky breaths overtaking you. Sukuna's eyes darken as he watches, his own fingers guiding your movements. “Sukuna… mnh!”
"Do it slower," he whispers, looking at you in this way…
Is this what it is, to be desired?
You’re shaking, wantonly playing with yourself in Sukuna’s boxing ring under his hungry gaze, rubbing circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, hips jerking. A whimper escapes when you accidentally press too hard, when it jumps and gets so slick your fingers slip off almost.
“Too much!”
Sukuna's knuckles brush your inner thigh where slick has trailed, moaning and spreading it around until it’s glossy. "Keep going, imagine it's my fingers."
The thought sends heat from your core – little movements feeling so fucking good that your eyes are rolling back in your skull, his hot lips pressing kisses on your upper breasts, letting them gently bounce from your yoga top. When his tongue flicks over your nipple you’re about to shatter, whimpering in Sukuna’s ear as he keeps guiding your fingers.
Your slick drowns both of you.
“Go ahead,” he urges, looking down at you. “Lemme see how pretty you are when you cum for the first time.”
It’s heady and insane, lewd and filthy him watching you fall apart – you whine out as the first bit of that orgasm fucking destroys you, hips lifting off the cold mat as white stars burst behind your eyelids. The pleasure makes you dizzy, head falling back, back arching up as you ride it out, gushing in spurts in embarrassing amounts.
Your fingers fall weakly, opening your eyes to the blurry vision of Sukuna watching with lidded, dazed eyes.
“You did such a good job today,” you almost cry then.
Praise was something you’ve never gotten. Your breaths quicken, tits almost slipping up and out where he’d tugged at them, Sukuna gently moves your hand, his crimson gaze locks onto yours as he brings your fingertips to his mouth.
“Sukuna! You’re…” His long tongue swipes against your fingers in a circle, before he slips a filthy drag between them, lapping up all of your juices. “Tasting me?”
“Mmm, fuck,” he hums low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut as he sucks each little digit clean, his cheeks hollowing. He looks like he’s cumming – you think, you’re not sure.
You do know it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, the sight of it pulls another broken moan from your throat, the obscene sound echoing in the gym's quiet, until there is no sound but that suctioned pop.
“I wanna bury my face in you,” his words are insanity, things you never thought you’d hear, hovering over you and pulling your thigh up so you feel him. “Then I wanna bury my cock, wreck you until you won’t walk out of here, pump you full until you drip me when you get home to your fuck ass husband.”
“Sukuna… I… you really…” He kisses you quiet, pulling back and laughing softly, huge body casting a shadow across you both, eyes dangerous, grin psychotic – white against his skin.
“That’s just a bit of my thoughts, you need to go before you’re not a virgin anymore,” he touches your lips thoughtfully. “I’d fill all your holes though.”
“All!? Um…” He pulls up and gently adjusts your clothing with precise fingers, kissing you again and again.
“Don’t let me corrupt you, just run off,” his words hurt, as if he’s not good enough for you, when that’s so not the case. “Shouldn’t even come back.”
“No,” is your answer. A firm answer you almost apologize for, his sigh loud as he runs a hand shaky through his hair. “I don’t want to run, if you don’t want me to.”
“Dangerous and dumb idea,” his hand entangles in the nape of your neck, his own breaths erratic. “If you do good tonight I’ll make sure you have my fingers. Will you cum thinking of them?”
“I’ll try to do it right,” you blush now, letting him stroke your back, sending shivers as you fall into another kiss.
You don’t want to go home.
When you go to leave, he pauses you, a hand on your shoulder. “He doesn’t hit you or some shit, yeah? Because I swear-”
“Never, I smacked him,” Sukuna sighs in relief. “It’s mental pain, not that. I promise.”
“Still fucked but,” he shakes his head. “If it ever got there I have a champion belt I can throw on.”
“I bet you do,” you smile, feeling cared for was new.
“Go.”
“One more?”
“No, won’t stop there,” he shakes his head and you turn, just for him to drag you back, kissing you over and over, as gone in you as you are in him, pulling back to brush your cheeks, sighing. “Now go.”
You don’t say anything, the intentions were clear, Sukuna wanted you in ways you knew nothing of other that watching Satoru and hearing things here and there, in ways that makes your clit still twitch. Cunt pulsing around nothing, hands shaky as you drive, a mix of pleasure, desire, and more.
Feelings, brand new and blooming, intense.
And guilt.
Why?
You walk up quietly to see Satoru standing in front of the porch, gaze flickering to you, as if he fucking knew somehow, smoking a cigarette. You blink for a moment, you didn’t know him to smoke, but then you don’t really know him, not at all. You walk up and go to open the door as he blows some of it out, leaned back on the railing, crossing his legs at the ankles.
“Your lips are swollen,” you suck in a breath, freezing and turning to look at him. “You bite them or get them bitten?”
“How would you even notice? You don’t notice me,” your words are carried by the chilled breeze. “Since when do you smoke?”
“Hah,” he inhales a drag, stepping near you, exhaling up and away. “I do smoke. I have.”
“Ah,” you look away then. “It’s shit for you but… I can’t say I care enough to tell you to stop.”
“Ouch,” his hand brushes your hair back, frowning. “Hair’s a mess.”
“Yep,” you won’t deny it if he asks, but he’s not owed a fucking explanation either. “You eat dinner?”
“Yeah there’s food in the kitchen,” he flicks his cigarette out, quiet.
“Where’s Jennifer? Or… Chloe? Is that her name?”
“I don’t have a woman every night,” you laugh then, Satoru eyes you. “I don’t.”
“Okay, it’s ‘not my business’ right, Gojo?”
He says nothing.
You’re tired of trying to see something in him, when he presses against you, your front against the door, tilting your chin and eyeing your lips carefully, thumb brushing over them. “You were kissing or sucking cock?”
“Wouldn’t tell you,” you lift your chin, looking up at him, feeling his grip tighten on either side of your chin. “I’m gonna eat.”
“Yeah.” He lets you go, you struggle inside, trying to catch a breath.
That night you think of him – of Sukuna’s ruby eyes and vermillion lips, of his hungry kisses and the way he looked at you. Even if it was fleeting, even if he was just in the moment, you never knew you could feel that way, feel so wanted, so beautiful.
You can’t stop thinking of the words.
Break you.
Fuck all your holes.
Fuck you’re pretty.
You touch yourself alone for the first time in your life tonight, and Satoru Gojo may have heard you outside your door, he may have stroked his cock right outside your door, head resting on it. He may be regretting things, he may desire you, hearing your sharp gasps as he knows you’re touching yourself, imagining you gripping those sheets and fucking yourself with your fingers.
It’s a sick thing to do, to jerk his cock to a girl he turned down, a girl he’s made hate him on purpose, one he’s acted like he doesn’t want, one that soon will be long gone and think of him as a traumatic fucking memory. Yet it doesn’t stop him from pumping his cock up and down with his fist, moaning quietly as you reach your peak so loudly.
Yet he doesn’t hear his name.
He hears you mumbling – Kuna.
Welp it just gets messier from heeerree <3 A/N here, plz don't hate on reader for being a 'doormat' she literally is traumatized and will have more character development as we go. You can hate on Gojo though LMAO!!! I hope you enjoy, I am so thankful for the love and look forward to hearing your thoughts!
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synopsis: you were giving up on him. for real this time. after years of silently pining over your friend's brother, you were done giving him any space in your heart. until a date goes wrong and he waltzes back into your life - seemingly intent on winning your heart this time. can you resist him? or will you just be repeating history?
pairing: tattoo artist!Sukuna x f!Reader
wc: 8.2k
content: mdni, angst + smut, some fluff sprinkled in too, hurt/comfort, HEAVY JEALOUSY, sukuna is an asshole at first but he learns!, he's UNHINGED though lmfao, lowk crazy and yandere bc this man is obsessed and plotting, aspiring artist!reader, heavy pining/yearning, gojo appearance but he's a bit of a dick, fist fighting lol, Sukuna scheming to win us over, regret, tattoos, fucking in the tattoo chair, fingering, unprotected piv sex, creampie
a/n: this was a commission by the lovely @ynishalee !! sukuna art is by @/to00fu + divider by @/d-oie !!
“Seriously? You thought this shit was worth showing me?”
You flinched. Stared at the portfolio you brought in veiny hands before he tossed it back on the counter, a few pieces of laminated paper slipping out before you scrambled to pick it up and shove them back in.
What did you think?
That just because you were friends (or as close to it as you could get) with Sukuna, he wouldn't be a complete and total asshole for once in his life? That maybe he'd be impressed with your attempts at art after making a career out of his own?
“I cleared my evening for this,” he grumbled, running his fingers through his soft pink hair, brows pinched together in a scowl as his dark eyes settled squarely on you. “I could’ve booked a client. One that paid?”
“Sorry,” you apologized, stepping back, glancing towards the door.
Stupid.
Stupid stupid stupid.
You should’ve known better. Should’ve realized that even after fifteen years, all you’d really be to him was a nuisance.
“Whatever,” he groaned, grabbing his jacket from where he’d left it on his stool and stretching out his shoulders before slipping it on. “You can buy me a beer to make up for it.”
This was what moderately nice looked like with him. And the only reason he even put up with you this much was because you were friends with his brother first. Jin was the opposite of Sukuna, soft-spoken and considerate and not a complete asshole, someone you met back in school. He introduced you to his twin brother – and that was history.
You’d been nursing a childish crush on him from that very first day.
It still made you feel like a fucking moron.
All you wanted was for him to see you.
Maybe you were asking for too much. But the rejection burned as you buried it deep in your chest, mumbling sure as you turned away from him. Rubbing underneath your eyes before you started needing to blink back tears, refusing to let yourself cry like a baby in front of him.
But you were apparently still lacking in the self-respect department when you held the door open for him in one hand and cradled your now-worthless portfolio against your chest in the other.
You drove separately.
Following his car to a seedy club downtown, parking a couple blocks away and jogging to catch up with how fast he was walking to the doors. He nodded at the bodyguard, the brute just waving him in before you mumbled something stupid about being with him before you trailed after him inside.
Sukuna ordered two beers, the cheapest drinks on the menu like he didn’t think you could afford more on your salary. He wasn’t wrong.
He rarely was.
You’d been working at your family’s bookshop most of your life. Managing the finances, stocking the shelves, working the cash register. Whatever was needed whenever it was needed. No questions asked. But your mind drifted, dreamed of doing something different – where you weren’t sleeping in a tiny studio apartment you could barely afford and got to express yourself outside of the stupid chalk signs you drew on to advertise on the sidewalk.
“Are you still all prissy because I said-”
“No,” you interrupted him, even though you knew he hated that. You sipped the awful beer, nose scrunching as you pressed your lips together and forced yourself to swallow.
“Good,” he grunted. “Don’t need that shit today.”
You didn’t reply to that. Stared ahead at the bottles of liquor lined up on the wall, the distorted mirrors behind them as you listened to the heavy music thumping behind you.
“First client was fuckin’ awful, didn’t even tip after I spent-” Sukuna was still talking, grumbling under his breath between swigs of his own beer. You weren’t paying that much attention though. Picking apart what you could make of yourself in those stretched-out mirrors, wondering if you’d really only be Jin’s friend to him. Someone annoying he could boss around, that he barely tolerated.
How much time were you wasting waiting for him to wake up and notice you were a girl? That you liked him?
“God, I need to get laid,” he continued, and your head swiveled over to him, brows knitting together as it hit you what he said.
He noticed, chuckling at whatever expression you were making before slamming his now-empty beer down.
“What? Are you, like, a prude?” Sukuna asked, and you flinched, flustered as your mouth fell open.
“N-no, I’m not,” you defensively said, heat crawling inside your skin, uselessly shaking your head just for him to laugh at you.
“C’mon,” Sukuna snickered, rolling your eyes. “I’ve known you, what? Like a decade? And you’ve never had a boyfriend?”
“I’ve had boyfriends,” you muttered, wishing you could drown yourself in your beer when you forced yourself to take another drawn-out sip.
Several of them. Some longer than others.
But they all came to the same conclusion you had a long time ago.
They weren’t the guy you wanted. And the one you did couldn’t care less about you.
“Sure,” he shrugged, all gruff and gravelly, waving over the bartender to get another beer. “Whatever you say.”
“You don’t believe me,” you pointed out before you could stop yourself, and all you got was another bob of his shoulders.
“It’s not my business.” Which really just meant he didn’t give a shit.
You could probably pick a random guy from the dancefloor and drag him back home with you and he wouldn’t blink.
Instead of a beer, the bartender pushed a stein of something strong to him, nodding down the bar to a pretty girl who was already looking at him, glossy lips curling up when his head turned in her direction. “On her.”
Sukuna smirked, and you wondered if he’d be leaving with her tonight.
“Someone’s got you beat,” he commented, glancing back over to her with a glint of interest in his eyes. It was a joke, you guessed. But you didn’t laugh.
Just felt it sit in the bottom of your stomach like a goddamn boulder.
She had his attention, and she barely had to try.
You pulled out your purse, scrounging together enough crumpled cash to cover the bill before tossing it on the bartop, swinging your legs off to stand.
“You’re mad at me,” he huffed, and you wanted him to stop you. Some sad little shriveled part of your brain desperate for him to do something to show you were more than just – well, whatever it was he saw you as.
“I’m not,” you insisted, even though a hot lump had formed in your throat, lungs constricting as you became acutely aware of how little air you could suck in.
He frowned for a second, but he didn’t say anything.
Didn’t reach out.
“Gotta get up early tomorrow,” you excused, even though he didn't ask.
For the first time in forever, you didn't look back when you left. And when you got home, you blocked his number after deleting the message chain that was mostly you sending him stupid shit he probably only ever skimmed over.
Removed the temptation entirely to text him now, tried to call and clip the image of him from the corners of your heart when you curled back up in your bed.
It wasn't like it was easy. But the humiliation of wanting someone like him had sliced too deep this time, embarrassment etching into your fingers every time you attempted to draw and thought back to his reaction. His rejection.
So you did the only thing you could do.
Move on.
Focus on your job, your meager social life, although you made Jin come over to your apartment when he wanted to hang out purely out of fear you'd bump into Sukuna’s at his place.
Two weeks passed, then three, killing time while you scrubbed the ghost of him from your mind.
Today hadn't been much different.
Stuck with another hour left at an exhausting shift, feet aching as you shifted behind the counter, a pen in hand as you attempted to sketch something on the back of a sticky note. A few animals, a couple of fish, thin lines and unsure strokes as you questioned what was even the point any more.
“Whatcha doodlin’?” A cheeky voice distracted you, snatching the crumpled paper from underneath your palm before you could stop him. You knew who it belonged to before you saw him.
The white-haired menace who only showed up for the sweets in the adjoining bakery, chocolate usually smeared in the corner of his mouth when he pretended to browse books. Although he'd always find some excuse to come chat with you, sometimes bringing around his friends who would buy stuff.
“It's nothing-” You started, straining over the counter to yank it back, but he was too fast.
Gojo held it over your head, squinting at the lines you etched into it and tilting his head to the side with faint surprise.
“These are cute,” he smiled, pointing at the little koi fish at the bottom.
“You don't have to lie to me,” you frowned back at him, getting just close enough to grab it. You rolled it into a ball, throwing it away in the trash can under the counter. “It's nothing.”
“I meant it,” he grinned, propping himself up on his elbows and getting on your eye level. “Don't believe me?”
Gojo was full of shit.
You hadn't known him as long as Sukuna or Jin – but you still knew him well enough to know he liked to flirt and fawn, none of it worth anything when he was like that with everyone. He was more of a mutual friend than just a friend, but boundaries were more like suggestions he preferred to ignore, physical, emotional, every flavor of rule he rejected.
“Not really,” you muttered, glancing down at both his rather huge hands. All pale and veiny, long fingers that weren't holding anything. “No treat today?”
“Want something a little sweeter tonight,” he hummed, and you stared blankly at him.
“Like what?” You deadpanned.
“A date with you.”
You blinked. But he didn't budge, waiting for an answer.
“Like, a date date?” It made you feel like a moron to ask, halfway thinking he'd laugh at you even when he brought it up.
“Duh,” he chuckled. “What time do you get off?”
“Um, an hour, but-” You started, and since it wasn't a no, he was already smiling like it was a yes.
“Or we could do dinner tomorrow if it's better, y’know, whatever's good with you is great with-’
“Tomorrow,” you answered, surprising yourself a little bit at how quickly you said it. Gojo was cute, even if he wasn't exactly the type you usually went for – i.e. tattooed men with commitment issues. He probably had a big dick if it was even half the size of his attitude.
It might not go anywhere, but didn’t you deserve a single night without him on your mind?
Sukuna could sleep around.
So why couldn't you?
Something was fucking wrong with him.
Sukuna’s life had been oddly quiet lately.
Something was different, missing, maybe– but he hadn't quite figured out what. Just that the world had been duller. The days dragged on longer, nights bleeding into morning in broken fits of sleep.
He'd never exactly been a man of emotions. Most of them he rejected entirely. But there was a pervading feeling that he could only describe as bad. One that refused to go away no matter how much he tried to drown it in alcohol or nicotine.
He hated half of his clients. Couldn't stand the bright city lights or boring chatter people constantly tried dragging him into. His old favorite songs sounded more like static and background noise, grating on his nerves when he turned it on to focus on new designs.
But despising the universe wasn't anything new to Sukuna.
Loathing his life was typical.
But this slimy pit in his stomach, balled up too tight to dislodge, stuck there and festering, that was something he wasn't used to.
It wasn't until he went to Jin’s to talk shit about his latest awful day that he figured out what it was.
Guilt.
Jin was alone, watching some boring movie on his couch, feet propped up on his coffee table without even sparing him a glance as he went straight to his fridge to find a cold drink. He glared at the healthy foods, fruits and meats neatly organized inside – only a couple sparkling waters in the back. He begrudgingly grabbed one, cracking it open and looking back to the living room just to freeze.
He stared at the empty spot next to Jin for a few seconds, struggling to conceive why he was looking at the couch like an idiot until it hit him why.
You weren't there.
“Where's your friend?” He gruffly asked, bringing the drink to his lips to sip.
“On a date,” Jin casually said, and he choked.
Drink dripped down his mouth and onto his shirt, wiping it away with the back of his hand as he cleared his throat.
“Her?” You?
It was inconceivable.
The girl who could barely even look him in the eye half the time? Who stuttered and stammered and could hardly get through a single sentence without getting flustered?
Honestly, Sukuna figured you were probably a virgin and too shy to admit it. It wasn’t like you weren’t attractive, but you’d always been off-limits.
Besides, there were always tons of other women out there – why would he stoop so low as to sleep with one of Jin’s friends?
“With Gojo,” his brother added, tossing a piece of popcorn in his mouth, completely oblivious to the way he froze behind him.
Did Jin just not give a fucking shit about you? Was he seriously letting you go out with that prick?
Gojo’s reputation was almost worse than his.
But just because he took girls on dates before he fucked and fled, he was somehow better.
At least he didn’t pretend he wanted a relationship just to get someone in the sheets. At least he didn’t lead them on and let them think they were something more.
“And you just fuckin’-” He clamped his lips shut right as Jin threw a confused look over his shoulder at him.
“What?” He asked, all confused, like he couldn’t fucking perceive the very apparant problem.
“That guy’s an asshole,” he protested.
Jin didn’t say it, but the look on his face made it obvious that he thought Sukuna was one too.
“Where’s the date at?” He grumbled, arms folding tight across his chest as he tapped on Jin’s fake wood flooring.
You weren’t his friend.
So why the fuck was he walking into some upscale restaurant on the nice side of town, fixing the collar of his jacket, ignoring the stares sticking to him.
“Sir?” A hostess tried talking to him, but he waved her off, already scowling.
“I need a drink,” he dryly said.
Preferably a strong one.
He beelined over to the bar, reluctantly ordering a ridiculously expensive whiskey in his best attempt to blend in before scanning the dining room for any sign of you.
He spotted you almost immediately. Sitting in one of those back booths, probably one Gojo told you would be more private – even though you were really just on display for the rest of the restaurant.
You dressed up. For him.
Sukuna didn’t know why it surprised him so much, dumbly staring at the sight of you in a short dress, the kind that clung to your thighs and your chest, too much cleavage showing. Too much skin showing period. Elbows on the table as you leaned in to listen to Gojo ramble on, who was surely too focused on the sound of his own voice to pay attention to how good you looked tonight.
He shook the thought from his head. Strangled it, actually, tried to twist it into nothing. Glad he didn't have any utensils to gouge his eyes out so he couldn't consider the cute tilt of your head or how glossy your lips looked when you chewed on your bottom one nervously.
Why the fuck were you here?
You weren't a moron. You knew better than to buy a guy like Gojo’s bullshit.
His last conversation with you came back up, floating from the depths of his brain in bits and pieces, his own words echoing. Was it because he commented on your lack of a love life? Asked if you were a prude?
Did you just go to the biggest manwhore (other than him) that you could find?
If you wanted to get laid, you could've just asked-
No, no. That was wrong, Sukuna reminded himself, blinking hard like it would change what he was seeing. You smiled at Gojo, mouth moving as you said something that made him chuckle and lean forward, reaching over the table to grab your hand like you were a couple. His thumb tracing down your knuckles, drawing little shapes on your skin that obviously made you giddy.
Sukuna wasn't jealous.
He'd never been jealous before. Over anyone.
He was, uh, just doing what Jin should've been doing. As your friend. Even if every giggle and grin of yours made him feel physically fucking ill as he watched and waited for the moment to intervene.
It wasn't like he could just let this happen.
Leg bouncing anxiously until Gojo got up, counting to thirty in his head before he followed him to the bathroom, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure you hadn’t noticed him. But you were glancing down at the table, tracing over the scratches on it, your face soft, almost serene. Pretty.
He kept walking, picking up the pace to catch up to Gojo, wondering how hard he’d have to deck him to make sure he’d stay down long enough for him to block off the bathroom door to prevent him from leaving. The staff would probably notice after a couple minutes – sooner if someone else tried to use it.
He didn’t have a real plan, his brain jumping from idea to idea too fast to let him land on one.
If he was less impulsive, more in control of the monster twisting around inside of him, maybe he would have considered having a conversation with Gojo. Threatening, sure, but mature enough to make it clear that you were not a girl he could screw and scram from.
Instead?
He was scanning the stalls in front of him to make sure no one else would overhear, noting that they opened out instead of in. Only spotting Gojo’s ridiculously shiny loafers, listening to him yap on the phone with one of the other pricks he chose to surround himself with.
“I know, I’ve gotta go, she’s waiting for me,” he was chuckling, his casual confidence already grating down his resolve not to dunk his head in the toilet. He laughed again at whoever was on the other line. “Shut up, you know I’ve been trying to get in her panties for months.”
Anger didn’t suffice.
Couldn’t cover the heat warping his judgment, boiling into something he couldn’t control at the idea of that white-haired fucker slinking around and searching for a way inside of you.
His body was moving on autopilot, banging hard on the stall door, fingers clenching into a fist right just in time for Gojo to hang up the phone and yank it open, his annoyingly bright blue eyes narrowing in an appalled squint at him.
“What the-”
His punch connected. Busting open his bottom lip, bruising Sukuna’s knuckles too as Gojo’s head snapped to the side. He groaned, stumbling and losing his footing, probably slipping in his own piss from his surely shoddy aim.
“The hell is your problem, dickhead?” Gojo grunted, pushing off the toilet seat, palm pressing on the stall as he struggled to stand up straight.
It was easy to push him back down, just another rough punch that he hoped fucking hurt.
But recognition was now glittering across the bloody face beneath him, amusement dancing in his dark stare as Gojo let out a low laugh.
“You’re here for her?” He said it like it was some joke Sukuna wasn’t in on. Or maybe he was just the butt of it.
“You’re not getting in her panties,” Sukuna repeated in a hateful hiss, more repulsed by the word when it was on his own tongue. “So stay the fuck away from her.”
His eyes flickered from the white-haired fraud in front of him to the toilet, considering it.
“Maybe.”
He saw the second it registered for him that it wasn’t just a threat. Then Sukuna leaned down, grabbing his phone from where it had hit the ground during his first hit.
“Wait-”
He tossed his phone in the water instead.
Sukuna kicked him while he was down, hard enough he heard a rib crack before he stepped back, slamming the stall door shut and looking around at what he had at his disposal. Dragging over a ridiculously heavy trash can from the corner, one of the obnoxiously designed ones that was supposed to be art as if people weren’t just tossing trash in it. He shoved it against the stall while Gojo groaned again inside.
He’d be able to get out, if he crawled under or climbed over the stall, or summoned the strength to shove it out of the way. But it’d delay him for a while. Enough that Sukuna was able to look back out of the bathroom, getting lucky enough to see one of the staff heading into a supply closet down the hall, marked employees only.
“You asshole,” Gojo snarled, voice muffled, strained from the pain of a probably broken rib.
But it was too late.
He was sneaking out and into the closet once it was empty, snagging an ‘out of order’ sign from a shelf before he put it back up on the bathroom door when no one was looking.
Sukuna wasn’t really one for fate, didn’t hold any believe in some higher power pulling his strings, but he could admit that it seemed like the universe was colluding with him when he caught the attention of some overworked waitress and casually commenting that they should probably block off the men’s bathroom if there was something wrong with it, pointing to the sign.
It had taken ten minutes, maybe fifteen, walking back to your table with a smirk twitching up in his lips at the thought of how long it would take Gojo to pull himself off of the floor and figure out how to leave. Especially now that he managed to get someone to move a bunch of those huge ceramic fake-potted plants in front of it to stop it from opening – and no one would hear him requesting help through the thick walls and the bland dining music still loudly thumping through the speakers.
He had won.
A little voice in the back of his brain said, for now, added addendums to his meager victory. Marked it down with the reminder that you might not be thrilled to see him after you left the last time you were together.
You were still staring at the table when you came back into view, but your nose was scrunched up, lips pressed together tightly. Aware that it was taking too long for your date to come back, fear starting to seep in that you’d been ditched.
And then you saw him.
For half a second, just a brief moment he almost missed, you smiled, relaxing reflectively before you suddenly went stiff again. Forcing a frown and tucking some hair behind your ear self-consciously, defensively.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, all wide-eyed, fiddling with your hands in your lap. Pulling the hem of your dress down like he hadn’t seen how high it’d been earlier.
“Saw you on a date with that loser,” he muttered, begrudgingly glancing around like he didn’t know where he was. “Did he leave?”
You swallowed, squirming as you shrugged.
“He said he was going to the bathroom,” you muttered, fishing your phone from your purse to check the time, or maybe send Gojo a message. Sukuna could see the way disappointment snuck up in your face, how it crept into the corners no matter how hard, how desperately you were trying to hide it.
There was an awkward pause, tense and heavy as he tried to figure out how to say what he wanted to.
“You wanna get out of here?” He gruffly suggested, pulling his wallet from his pocket and tossing down some cash on the table. Enough to cover your half – even though there was only an appetizer out.
You hesitated, your eyes finally flickering up to him.
Your stare was as soft as it had always been, but it was like he was seeing your face for the first time, the air in his lungs sucked out like he’d been knocked flat on his back.
Reassessing every little line, realizing that you weren’t just pretty, or cute, but beautiful. Lashes fluttering, canines chewing on your bottom lip as you looked back in the direction of the bathroom one last time.
You’d been there for so long. Lingering in the background and by his side. And he’d been completely goddamn blind.
“I’ll buy you some real food,” he added, nodding towards the barely-touched plate of pretentious-plattered blobs of food with herbs thrown on top.
“Fine.”
You weren’t that happy in the passenger seat of his car, riding shotgun, knees pointed away from him while you leaned against the cool window. He turned up the heat, the lump in the back of his throat bobbing watching you shiver and curl up inside yourself.
He couldn’t remember if you’d ever been in his car like this before. A couple years ago, he’d been stuck in the backseat with you in Jin’s sedan, crammed against the window while you were stuck in the middle, but back then, he’d been too distracted arguing with Kaori in the front seat to notice the weight of your thigh against his.
Now he couldn’t stop himself from wishing he paid more fucking attention.
Eyes flitting over to your form, throat going dry at the sight of your still-plush thighs so out of his reach.
“Why him?” He grunted when he pulled up to a stop light, fingers tapping his steering wheel, molars grinding as he stole another glimpse at you.
You shrugged, just a little raise of your shoulders while you sighed.
“He said he wanted to go on a date with me,” you murmured, refusing to look back at him. “Guess he changed his mind.”
“He’s a moron,” Sukuna half-snarled, cringing when he realized how it came out.
A flash of hurt crossed your face, as he felt the fear of fumbling this chance with you rear back up.
“For changing his mind,” he clarified, omitting the tiny detail that you’d be back on your date discussing Gojo’s salary or how big his cock was if he hadn’t intervened. “Not for-”
“Don’t,” you mumbled. Stopping him before he could say what he meant.
“Look, I’ve been a dick,” he started, discomfort churning in his stomach having to apologize for anything in his life.
“When aren’t you?” You muttered under your breath, swallowing hard as you continued to avoid looking straight at him. Just scanning over the road, glancing out the window or down at the floorboards, anywhere that wasn’t him.
He let out a disappointed huff, brow twitching.
“The last time we talked, I was a fucking asshole,” he added, gravelly and gruff, even when he was trying to sound sincere. “You didn’t deserve that shit.”
You turned to face him fully, but the light turned green, and he couldn’t see what face you were making as his foot shifted back to the gas pedal. He could make out your mouth starting to open in the edges of his vision, but he forced himself to continue.
“I’m sorry.”
You made a small noise that sounded like a squeak – and he was pretty sure his heart stopped. Something small but fierce sprouting in the deepest crevices of his chest, all his organs constricting as he struggled not to react with a noise of his own.
“You’re sorry?” You repeated, as if an apology was totally absurd.
“Yeah,” he soberly said, knuckles tightening across the steering wheel, barely able to keep his eyes on the road instead of studying your reaction.
“For what?” You asked, and it felt like a test.
One he was embarrassingly desperate to ace.
All of it?
Dismissing you and distancing himself the same way he always did? Convincing himself that all you would ever be was Jin’s friend?
“For not seeing you,” he said under his breath, the answer landing in the air.
You hesitated, pausing before you nodded.
He didn't know if he got it right.
But you relaxed over his version of dinner. Trading in your fancy appetizer for fast food, intently watching you dip your fries in sauce as you listened to him grumble about how shitty everything had been lately, begrudgingly admitting that he missed you coming around to his shop.
You casually shrugged, as if you didn't miss him back.
“Been busy,” you hummed, and he hated how the little curl of your lips after you said it made his stupid heart stall.
Somehow though, you were still free tonight.
Enough that by your fourth or fifth yawn, he talked you back into watching a movie at his place.
Jin would probably kill him if he knew. But then again, he hadn't stopped you from seeing Gojo. So how much could he actually care?
It wasn't like he was fucking you.
Even if he was beginning to consider just how much he'd like to.
But it felt almost more intimate for you to be this close, your thigh not quite touching his, knees curled up against your chest while you shared a blanket with him. Grabbing popcorn from the bowl on his lap and cracking jokes he might've called lame a few months ago before rolling your eyes at whatever was happening on screen.
“This movie kinda sucks,” you whispered to him, as if you were in a theater instead of his apartment.
Speaking to him like a friend, giggling a little as one of your buttered fingers reached up to poke the crease between his brows.
Were you always this fun?
This pretty when your the shadows from the tv flickered across your face? Did your eyes usually glimmer like that, looking up at him like he was some kind of knight instead of just another dickhead?
“Want me to change it?” He grumbled, already about to grab the remote before you shook your head.
“I still want to see how it ends,” you half-whispered, and the softness to your voice did something treacherous to the pit of his stomach. Ripped open a gash, pried him apart until all he could think of was how hollow he felt. Hyper aware of a missing piece he was pretty sure was right in front of him.
He wanted to see how this would end too.
If you were another girl, he would've made a move. Slipped a hand underneath the blanket and ran it over your thigh, leaned in to trail hungry kisses down your throat. A means to an end – all to get his dick wet.
But he wrapped his arm around your shoulders instead, pretended he didn't see the suspicious little glance you tossed his way. Satisfied himself just with the fact you didn't shove him away.
You didn't get to see the end of the movie after all. Lulled to sleep with the pressure of his arm or the quiet comfort of the dim lights and low volume. Head tilted to the side at an uncomfortable angle as you dozed off and dreamed about – well, he didn't know what, but he hoped it was about him.
He waited until the credits were rolling to creep off the couch, readjusting you until you were resting on one of his pillows instead, pulling up the blanket so you were covered.
Sukuna paused, just staring for a moment before he picked you up, cradling you against his chest and carrying you back to his bedroom where you'd be more comfortable.
You didn't wake up. Not even when he walked over to where you left your stuff by his kitchen counter. Or when Sukuna slipped your phone out from your purse, coming back to unlock it with your thumb while you were still passed out. Scrolling through your recent slew of texts to find where Gojo was basically throwing himself at you and clicking on his contact. There was a message from an unknown number too, a huge paragraph that Sukuna didn't need to read to know was from him too, pointing fingers and directing the blame for tonight right his way.
Blocking Gojo was easy.
Getting him to stay away from you?
Well, it wasn’t that much harder.
You softened up around him the next morning when you woke up and realized he'd taken the couch, nudging him awake to thank him before ditching like a one-night-stand would. But you were smiling again when you saw him, saying yes when he offered to pick you up and drop you off at work. Beaming when he admitted your drawings were never actually bad and asked to see them again. Letting him occupy your free time by slyly suggesting you come to his shop or his place for extra lessons and tips, a new weekly occurrence he caught himself thinking of as dates as one month bled into the next.
It wasn't like Gojo could slip back in your life if you were too busy.
And he couldn't visit you at work when Sukuna had made sure your family was aware of your, ah, stalker, and suggested they get a guard – claiming it would deter shoplifters too.
If you were suspicious, you didn’t say anything.
“So what, are you like, in love with her or-” Jin stopped himself mid-scoff, staring at Sukuna from across the counter, propping himself up on his elbows as he blankly stared at his brother. “You are.”
“No, I’m not,” he grumbled, counting the cash left in his register as the sun set behind the trees outside. You had said so yourself. Called him a good friend for showing you proper shading on your last piece, before tucking a sketchbook underneath your arm and disappearing through his door to go back to your place.
Despite his best efforts, you were still keeping him at arm’s length.
And through all his attempts at shutting down his own feelings, they only seemed to burn brighter, the flames fanned by the realization you were more than he had ever given you credit for. Far more than he fucking deserved.
Your awkwardness had become endearing. You were attentive and attractive and it was awful how many other things had only now started to register and rob him of his breath when you were around.
“Don’t even think about making a move on-”
The bell on the door chimed, and you were stepping through before Jin could say your name.
Your eyes landed on Sukuna, soft and sparkling, a lit match thrown inside his chest as your mouth curled up in a pretty smile. His brother knew him better than he knew himself.
Sukuna was falling for you fast. And he wasn’t sure he could catch himself anymore.
“If you guys have plans, I can-”
He didn’t let you finish.
“Jin was just leaving,” Sukuna grunted, glaring at his brother like he’d toss him out if he didn’t go soon.
You didn’t really get it. Couldn’t fully comprehend his sudden shift into being a semi-decent guy. You kept waiting for him to go back to normal, to push you back into the sidelines where you always belonged.
But he didn’t.
Week after week, he just seemed to worm his way deeper into your life, trying to occupy as much of it as he could. What? Did he have some weird change-of-heart and decide he didn’t want to be a dick?
Or were all those lingering touches and drawn-out stares just a figment of your imagination?
You glanced up at him again, mouth twitching into a smile you couldn’t help when you caught him already zeroed in on your face.
Jin let out a low exhale, but you didn't even turn.
“Don't make me an uncle,” he muttered, quiet enough you almost didn't hear him on his way out. Once it registered though, your nose scrunched up, now fully twisting towards him, ears perked like you were expecting Sukuna to scoff and say how ridiculous that was.
“Get out,” he grumbled.
You watched both of them, unsure eyes flickering back and forth until Jin left through the frosted glass doors.
Sukuna sighed, shutting the cash register a little too hard, his cheeks almost tinted pink under the warm lights, aware you were studying him and still not offering some snarky retort back.
“Surprised you didn't throw something at him,” you commented. This was it.
The moment he'd make it clear how he saw you and remind you of where you were meant to be in this weird relationship.
Except – he shrugged.
As if Jin wasn't in the wrong for suggesting there was something going on between the two of you.
“Are you really surprised?” He muttered, and you could only blink.
Holding your breath so he didn't catch how instinctively it hitched, frozen in place as your fingers fidgeted around your sketchbook.
And then Sukuna stepped closer, cocking his head to the side as he assessed your stunned expression.
“I like you,” he abruptly admitted, like he had to drag it from the depths of his stomach. Begrudgingly chewing over his next works as he walked right up to you, stopping just shy of touching before he plucked the book from your hands. “A lot.”
You waited for him to rip the rug out from under your feet and reveal that he didn’t actually mean any of it.
“Sukuna,” you started, swallowing hard like it would make it any easier to choke down.
How long had you been dying for him to say something like that? Dreaming of this moment right here?
And the best you could offer was his name?
“You don't believe me,” he accused, and all you could think of was being back at the bar, when those words came from your own lips.
He had said it wasn't his business then.
But what had made him decide you were now?
Was it just the idea of you slipping away? Becoming someone else’s? Faced with the fact you weren't who he thought you were when he saw you on that dumb date?
“Should I?” You asked.
“What can I do to prove it to you?” He frowned, thick brows scrunched together.
“I don't know,” you honestly answered.
And you didn't really expect him to try to find an answer for you.
It started small. Sort of. Awkward compliments he grumbled under his breath. Soda cans and snacks waiting for you when you came over. His fingers skimming over your skin, always standing a little too close.
But after a couple weeks of you squinting at him, convinced he was still just trying to have sex with you, something changed.
You just weren't sure which one of you cracked first.
Perched prettily on the stool behind his counter, drawing on spare paper as he cleaned up from his last client of the day, pretending you couldn't feel him staring.
“Hey,” he grunted, grabbing your attention easily as you glanced back at him.
“Hm?” You tilted your head, fingers pausing on the pen.
“You want a tattoo?”
He was a bad influence. You'd always known that. But his dark eyes dragged you right down to his level.
You couldn't believe you said yes.
Or that you agreed to a goddamn tramp stamp.
You readjusted, turning your head to the side, cheek squished against the cool leather as he tugged your shorts down.
Shivering as you tried to keep yourself from reacting, painfully aware of everything that he was doing.
Every step felt excruciatingly slow, each drag of his gloved fingers over the small of your spine as he cleaned and prepped it.
“Scared?” He grumbled, and you barely nodded.
“Kinda,” you breathlessly admitted.
“You change your mind?” He asked, and if you were smarter, maybe you would've told him to stop.
Instead, you shook your head no.
“Keep going.”
What was a better work of art?
You, face-down and shivering on his chair? Or the fresh ink on the base of your spine, permanently marking you as his?
The design was his, one you picked and approved, his initials worked into the fine lines.
R.S.
Maybe he should've pointed it out, but then again – you spent ten minutes reviewing the mock up and said you loved it.
And besides, he could always get your name on him too. Ask you to draw something just for him, sign it all pretty.
Make it even.
“You wanna take a look?” He softly asked, jaw locked as he tried to permanently imprint the image of you like this in his head.
“You can take a picture and show me,” you hummed, a cute little whine to your voice that made him unfortunately hard.
Sukuna was still working on his listening skills, pulling his phone from his pocket and obediently snapping a few, ah, artistic photos. Ones that included your pretty ass and how your panties were pulled low on them so he had the space to work on your tattoo.
It would be easier to walk around and show you, but instead he leaned forward, let his chest touch the top of your back as he held his phone in front of your face.
“Pretty,” you softly said, pleased.
“You're prettier,” he automatically replied, cringing when he remembered he was putting down his own work by accident.
But you just giggled, trying to crane your neck back to look at him.
“You did so good for me, gorgeous,” he murmured before you could mock him, purposely letting his mouth graze against your neck as you shivered. Shoulders scrunching up as you reflexively glanced up at you.
God, he wanted to fuck you right here.
And the way you were looking at him right now?
He'd wager you would let him.
“Do I have to pay for it?” You whispered, and he grunted.
“I don't want your money,” he scoffed.
He wanted something else.
And after so fucking long, he was finally about to have it.
Sukuna hooked two fingers in the band of your panties, tugging them down hard and letting them get caught around your knees. Pausing, waiting for you to tell him to stop just to be met with silence as he readjusted, moved to where he'd have better access.
Dragging his gloved hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and looking at how prettily you glistened for him. Soaked just from being in his seat.
He slowly took his gloves off, needing to feel you for real, skin on skin, truly touching instead of just skirting around it. Tracing over your ass, tender this time, taking his time to slip inside.
Your warmth was a fucking wonderland.
How many nights lately had he spent stroking it to the idea of this?
Hearing you moan was the closest he'd get to heaven, the sound reverberating inside of him as he added another digit, slowly shoving them in deeper, scissoring you open as your slick dripped down into the leather.
“Gotta stretch you out,” he hissed, throat constricting when you clenched down around him. “Make sure it'll fit.”
“Y-you're so cocky,” you whined, your lip forming a cute little ‘o’ as your cheek smushed against the seat. Moving in time with the thrusts of his fingers, wiggling down to meet his knuckles.
“Gonna show you why,” Sukuna promised, just to feel the way you shifted and squirmed underneath him.
It was addicting. You were.
All your reactions, all those pretty faces you would make, everything about you left him craving more, more, more.
His cock was leaking, aching pathetically where it was constrained in his boxers. Pre-cum dribbling out and making him aware of the dampness as he reluctantly pulled out to tug the zipper of his jeans down next, his dick springing up the second it was freed.
Your eyes went wide, glancing back at him with an expression that made his cock twitch. Veins pulsing Z he tried to contain his impulse just to shove it all the way in.
“I'll be careful,” he grunted, and you just nodded.
You trusted him.
And the thought of that made that little invisible string inside him snap.
Careful.
He repeated the word in his head, leaned against it like a crutch he could actually rely on. Shoving your shirt up higher, knowing he should probably fish a condom from his wallet for this, but unable to do anything except stare.
“I thought you liked me,” you murmured, hips shifting like you were trying to snare him even more.
“I do,” he breathed.
“Then show me.”
He was seeing fucking stars the second his cock was inside you. Eyes rolling back as inch by inch of his girth sunk into your heat, how you fit even better than his gloves did, snug and tight as he drove in deeper. Groaning your name, grabbing your hair, trying to tether himself to your body.
His sanity tied to the sounds you were making, those cute whimpers as he rammed his hips down into your ass, careful not to press down on your new tattoo.
“My pretty girl,” he claimed, gritty possession in his voice he no longer cared if you picked up on. So what if you did? You were his now. Not a fling or a fuck. Forever. “You're so goddamn perfect.”
“S-shut up,” you hissed back, nails digging into the chair as your grip on your own rationality slipped.
You didn't need reason anymore.
You had him.
“You like me,” he accused, cock throbbing inside you when you whined at his tip kissing your cervix.
“I-I-” You stuttered, so painfully pretty here. Sweat collecting on your brow, broken breathing loud in the quiet space, only the background music of his playlist joining it.
“You do,” Sukuna huffed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade.
Maybe he'd leave another tattoo there some day. His teeth marks? Some other subtle sign to mark you as his?
“M-maybe,” you half-whispered.
And that was enough for him.
Fucking into you harder, the chair beneath both of you creaking and protesting at the combined weight, his muscles straining as his thick cock continued to stretch you thin around him. His free hand slipped around your front, your body squirming at his touch, shuddering so sweetly. Rubbing drawn-out circles over your clit, massaging it with dedicated pressure, paying attention to how you liked it and adjusting properly.
Sukuna wanted to drag his tongue over your throat, taste your sweat and tears as you whimpered his name.
But he'd settle for feeling you twitch when you came, how your thighs trembled and shook, his hips rutting down as warm ropes of his cum spilled out into you.
You'd be dripping by the time he pulled out, but he kept you plugged full of his cum even when you were both finished, relief still some far-fetched dream when his body was burning so hot for you.
“Did you-” You swallowed hard, lashes fluttering as you looked back at him.
“I can buy you plan B,” he exhaled, still not pulling out – halfway hoping his seed would take anyway.
“Okay,” you sighed too, shutting your eyes as your face relaxed. Just accepting it. Letting him hold you like this the same way you let him leave his mark on your skin.
“We can shower at my place,” he muttered. “Still have to cover up your new tattoo.”
“Oh,” you yawned, like the sex had made you sleepy. Content. “Okay.”
You blinked though, eyes slowly opening back up as you looked back at him one more time.
“You're acting like you're my boyfriend,” you commented.
“Because I am now,” he huffed.
One of your brows arched up, lips pressing together. But you didn't say no. Didn't turn him down.
Your hips shifted, and he saw the pearly-white cum starting to seep out from where his cock was slotted between your folds, connecting him to you.
It was probably wrong to hope you'd get pregnant.
But really, all he wanted was to take care of you now. And that couldn't be wrong.
cw: pro hero!bkg. flirty!!! that’s it really!!! minors dni probs gonna make a masterlist for these
YN: do you think you can look after kenji tonight?
YN: sorry it’s so last minute
YN: if not i can ask my mum
You: Sure bring him round whenever
YN: thank you!!! will be at yours in 30
once bakugou katsuki realised he has a crush on his son’s mother or his favourite term, his baby mama, all the interactions between him and you hold a new pressure. not only does he want to be the best father for his son but he wants to be the best person for you. he wants you to like him back.
so he springs up from his seat at his desk where he was just going through his paperwork and eyes the toothpaste stain on his shirt. cannot let you see that. should he take off his rectangle reading glasses? he finds a mirror in his hallway, his hair is flat. his hair is literally never flat— ever. he has to put a little product to fluff it up. and… it is so embarrassing if he does a couple push ups to bulk his arms, but you won’t know. he has caught you looking at his arms once before, gaze lingering interested. maybe he will.
bakugou is baby proofing his apartment, putting his scissors away, heavy gauntlets back in his office, loose screws in a jar, when his doorbell rings. warmth blooms throughout his chest knowing his son is on the other side and you. you’re there too. fuck.
pushing his glasses up his nose (he decided to keep them on) and raking his hands through his hair (yes, he added some product), he jogs over to his front door swinging it open.
“papa!”
the love bakugou katsuki feels for his son is like no other. even though he sees him often, three times a week, this week four, he always looks older. like a day away from him and suddenly he’s going to pop out with a baritone voice and a beard. not yet though, chubby cheeks pressed against his knee and two little arms around his calf.
kenji, looks just like him and you. obviously from having a child together but it’s truly odd to see his own baby pictures come to life. his father’s wheat blonde but less spiky, leaning more to your hair texture at the end. and instead of his ruby eyes, he’s got yours, copy and pasted.
“hey papa! me and you today!”
“hey little man, you okay kenj?” he ruffles his sons hair and like a cat, kenji leans into it.
“ya! mama going!”
then bakugou lands on you, pupils dilated. where the fuck are you going looking like that?
it’s almost amusing, you in your brown suede mini skirt, black cowl neck top showing your tits, makeup done to literal perfection, little baguette handbag on one arm and then kenji’s deku green backpack hanging off your other arm.
your lips are glossy with these cat like eyelashes at the corner of your eyes. you look seductive, like a siren able to lure bakugou out to sea to drown. he’d definitely follow. he’s so careful to mind where his eyes go, not your cleavage, the glitter on your collarbones. also not the length of your legs in those kitten heels and mini skirt. there’s even a slither of stomach and bakugou wants to bite, wants to drag you back into his house and—
wait, where the hell are you going?
“thanks for taking him last minute! i completely forgot i had plans tonight.” you say, and your smile has bakugou’s next breath shaky.
it must be only him in the whole world who has a crush on his baby mama. the woman he’s never dated, only had sex with on a one night stand and has a whole child with.
bakugou sniffs, letting go of kenji so he can run off probably to all the toys he keeps in the living room.
“no problem, always wanna spend more time with him.” he states, crossing his arms. his pupils are about to drop past your chin when he blurts, “you’re not gonna be cold?”
you laugh, loud and sharp, “of course you’d say that. don’t worry, my jacket is in my car.”
“ah okay. you look good,” bakugou cringes inwardly. how the fuck did he flirt his way into your space the first time he met you? it’s been two years now and there’s almost no improvement. can you even be called friends?
you roll your eyes, clearly amused by him.
“thanks katsuki. i wanted to ask if you have any blister plasters? i feel one coming on.” you lift your left foot off the ground for a second, “first time wearing these!”
an excuse to scan the length of your legs, your smooth thighs, ankles, your feet in your little maroon kitten heels. are you going on a date?
a cough rumbles through bakugou, then he nods, “yeah, come inside. i’ll get you one.”
kenji is in the living room, surrounded by big puzzle blocks he’s cutely failing at putting together. “papa!” he shouts, running into the hallway to see you following after bakugou. kenji’s head tilts, a frown, “mama? here?”
a million thoughts rush through bakugou, reasons he can’t date you even if you ever want him back. kenji finds it weird that you’re even in this space. two spaces, mama’s house and papa’s house. everything about how you’ve parented kenji so far has been separate, very clearly separate.
“i’m leaving in a sec, kenj. just getting something from your papa.” and you perch up on a kitchen stool as bakugou reaches into his kitchen cupboard for the blister plasters. kenji comes to stand by you, two chunky puzzle pieces in hand.
“i brought his new books with him and these yoghurt raisins he’s been loving recently incase you didn’t have any,” you hum, resting your hand on kenji’s shoulder.
“damn, always changin’ his favourites. i just bulk bought those dino crackers,” bakugou sighs but it’s all love as he circles his island counter and gets down on his knees before you.
you’re in shock, jumping and crossing your legs over the other, “you don’t have to put it on me? i can do it?”
a hot hand on your ankle and your whole body vibrates with interest. you’re grateful your son deems the situation boring, toddling off back into the living room.
now bakugou katsuki, your baby father, the man who’s half your son and carries half of your sons last name is stupidly gorgeous. there’s a reason why you ended up in bed with him that one and only time, with his thick arms, you can see a two veins running through each of them and his eyes make you want to moan. a deep ruby red that practically twinkle when they look at you. his attention makes you feel powerful, probably the reason he’s so good at running a hero agency, you’d comfortably leave your life in his hands.
and now, with those nerdy cute glasses on his nose bridge, somehow looking like a model with his fluffed up hair and the sight of dino crackers in a tub behind him labelled ‘KENJI’S SNACKS BACK OFF!!’ made by your son, makes you swoon.
you’re the definition of flustered with this strong, domestic, burly man on his knees with a blister plaster in his hand. he could see directly up your skirt if he wanted to.
“nah, it’s fine. this shit doesn’t bother me.” he blinks expectantly waiting for you to hand him your foot.
swears only when your child is away. you wearing your slutty little outfit with this gorgeous man in his sweats and somehow you feel like a princess with him sliding a glass slipper onto your foot.
“you gonna let me or do you wanna just do it?” he removes his hand from your ankle.
you’ve seen clips of bakugou in action. mostly when it’s on the news, always making sure kenji doesn’t see bakugou covered in blood or shouting orders on tv. how sure of himself he stands, the strength he holds when he blasts a villain that multiple pro heroes couldn’t crack. sometimes you drop kenji off to his agency just before bakugou’s about to leave and you see him in all his glory. the boots that give him an extra couple inches, the tight black material that sucks him in and highlights every ab and pectoral. you remember how he nods a hello to you in those moment, with a boyish smirk like he knows what you’re thinking.
you think your baby father is sexy. so what.
you shake your head to rid your thoughts but bakugou takes that to mean you want him off. he adjusts to get up but you place your hand on his shoulder. the movement has him lifting his head to you, lips parted like he was ordered.
“no, i mean it’s fine. just wasn’t expecting it.” then you uncross your leg from over your other. then you joke with a finger pointed at him, “don’t look up my skirt. i wore it hoping nobody will be seeing me from this angle.”
bakugou visibly gulps at that, head ticking, “i fuckin’ hope not.”
calloused finger tips take your calf and with one hand, big fingers fiddle with your heel buckle. you’re almost sure it’s not possible for him to take it off but then it’s swiftly removed and onto the floor.
you blink at him, “what?”
bakugou carries the focus of a trained professional as he studies the sensitive skin around your heel. he ignores your confusion, “where are you goin’ tonight?”
it’s like whiplash, his question so quick after yours. you barely register what he says before you answers, “club in the city. it’s new, apparently has a live jazz band.”
bakugou grunts, wiping the area with a disinfectant wipe. “who with?”
your smile is slow, a realisation forming that you can’t completely confirm yet. “why are you asking that, katsuki?”
then he glances up at you, bottom lip plump and red. you hate that you can still remember what it’s like to kiss him.
“wanna make sure my baby mama is safe. not hangin’ around fuckin’ creeps.”
“ah, you’re asking for kenji?”
you can’t read his eyes yet but there’s a spark of amusement fluttering through them, “sure, let’s use that excuse.”
you roll your eyes and he carefully, lays the plaster on the area. “with a friend.”
“is it a date?” and it’s the nagging at the back of bakugou’s head that makes him ask, the fact he’s needs to know. dying to know.
now you really laugh, undecided if you want to toy with him or not. “and if it is?”
to that bakugou rises to his feet and seated, he feels even taller than usual. the whiff of bakugou’s scent, that caramel sugary scent, reminds you of that night two years ago when he was thrusting into you so sweetly that you could barely remember your name after.
“i hope it’s awful,” he grunts and he feels like a teenager. not a grown ass man and not someone’s grown ass father. he doesn’t know why his finger lands your chin, angling your head to face him. you don’t know why you let him, lips parted like his will land on yours. ruby eyes flicker to your eyes to your lips and the need for contact is imminent.
“you’re so stupid,” you mumble and when you realise the position you’re in, that your son is only next door, you pull away from bakugou katsuki.
bakugou’s left standing where you left him as you scramble away, pulling your shoe back on and buckling it back up with a single hand. you adjust your skirt and you go back into mum mode. “he might ask for something sweet but don’t give it to him, i already gave him ice cream earlier. also ask him about quirk training at school, you’re so much more suited to helping him with that.”
bakugou crosses his arms across his chest. if you want to pretend there’s nothing between you both as you go and meet another man, then sure. he gives you a slow nod, “i will. enjoy your date, yn. though i’m not sure green goes with brown.”
you frown glancing down at your outfit. black cowl neck top, brown suede mini skirt, maroon kitten heels. green where?
“mama! you still here?” kenji appears walking back to you, this time the tv remote in his hand, “you didn’t say bye mama.”
“i was just about to!” you bend down to your sons height, ignoring bakugou’s gaze. “i’m gonna pick you up tomorrow morning, okay? ready for football tomorrow. don’t ask papa for any ice cream, i’ve already told him.”
kenji pouts before landing a big kiss on the top of your head just like where you and bakugou always kiss him. you laugh at the motion, landing a soft kiss on his cheek, “okay, kenj? see you!” you rise and your son begins to wave.
“bye mama!”
bakugou leads you to his front door and green, green, green, still shakes through you until you realise. your fucking green underwear. you spin round with a gasp, bakugou almost falling into you as you halt. stabilising himself with his hand on the wall right beside your head. kenji is still standing behind him, waiting for you to go.
you’re again so close to bakugou, chest to chest and with the realisation that you know what he meant, a smirk grows on his face. so fucking sexy.
“you’re a perv,” you whisper scolding him, finger pointed but it only makes bakugou pretend to bite it by clashing his teeth together.
“have a good night, yn,” he replies, walking forwards as you walk backwards out, “i mean it.”
“BYE MAMA!”
“bye kenj!” and then to bakugou, “i’m watching you.”
“fuckin’ love to hear that.”
— likes don’t do anything on tumblr! but reblogs, comments and asks mean the world! and please stop the part 2 comments! thanks
You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.
pairings - Arranged! Gojo x Reader x Boxer! Sukuna
warnings!!! - Heavy, heavy angst, cheating and reactive cheating, Satoru is ooc, cruel and mean, reader starts off very shy/insecure, Soft Sukuna but he still don't mind being buried inside married reader, a fuck ton of feelings, eventual smut, explicit, mentions of insecurities, painful and hurtful all around.
This WILL have multiple endings, all of these three are gonna be messy. Told from Reader, Gojo and Kuna's POV and split up by each! based on this drabble - WC - 9k
This won the 30k followers poll! Thank you so so much again!!
part one
Gojo -
Satoru Gojo his entire life has been used – as the ‘head of the Gojo’ clan, as the heir to the empire, everything in his life has been set in stone the moment he was born. They never gave him a real choice, barely let him have friends his entire childhood, no it was studies, it was pressure, it was how to be absolutely perfect, telling him who to talk to, how to act, how to walk.
He knew inevitably his time in college was just a fun distraction, where he had friends for the first time, where he felt almost normal, where he secretly dated – his parents would not approve – of the girls he talked to. Yet he fell into it just a bit, enjoying it too much, partying and fucking the worst girls, ones that would make his parents gasp in shock.
He hung out with the worst crowd, too, straight up heathens really, to rebel as much as he could, before the inevitable fact – his dad was dead, and he was turning twenty four, there was no more partying, no more life, no more dreams. All there was – the obligations, the responsibilities, the arranged wife they’ve had picked out since you both were children.
Oh, you’re beautiful, it’s not that.
You’re sweet, you’re smart, you’re kind.
It’s not that.
You’re not his choice, nothing about his entire fucking life was his own choice, and this is just another thing, another way to show him what he is – just something to be used, just a tool for his family to have power. The richest family in Japan must have that, right? And you were from the second richest, and one of the most powerful, from an impeccable line.
You were impeccable, you were exceptional, you were ‘perfect’.
And Satoru Gojo hates you on sight, the moment you meet him at the engagement party – yeah, that's where he officially meets you, and doesn’t just ‘hear about you’. That’s where he sees how fucking gorgeous and bright you are, and for a moment his heart hammers in his chest, for a moment he’d sink to his knees to get a taste of you.
Then he remembers it all, when you shyly look down, when you ring your hands in front of you.
Obligation.
Arrangement.
You didn’t want this, want him, choose him – who would other than for his name, for his power? For what he could do for your family, for everyone. You’re shoved into this – a contract from your youth, who knew what the fuck you wanted, or who you’ve been with, who you want to be with?
You didn’t choose him, he didn’t choose you.
He keeps reminding himself in moments where he thinks the light from the chandeliers are hitting too nicely on your collarbones, when he looks at your lips just a little too long, instead he politely smiles, and turns away. Why, do you ask, does he turn away from his future wife?
Why is he later kissing another woman, fingering her right on the balcony, where pretty much anyone who walks by could see, smirking against her neck with every moan she muffles. Why does Satoru Gojo pick the most common, slutty little waitress to do so, when you’re there in a beautiful fucking gown, and look lost and upset, your lips trembling?
Because imagine a world where he falls – and you didn’t choose him. Imagine he thinks for a brief moment he could have happiness in his life, a joke really, it’s just flitting little moments. He can only handle so much pain, and in turn he causes you the pain, the embarrassment, sucking her juices off his thick fingers after she cums, laughing just a bit and walking back in.
His elders are furious, everyone is murmuring about his antics, as he throws back a shot and chuckles, but you?
You just look down, and a couple of tears fall, turning away and sipping on your wine. You say nothing even as he dances with you later, stumbling a bit with how drunk he’s gotten, to piss them off – to tell them he’s not going down without a fight – looking at you curiously.
You stare at his chest, you say nothing.
“Having fun?” He asks, and you scoff a bit, looking up with glassy eyes, and for a moment it pierces his drunk heart.
He’s horrible.
But isn’t he just a disappointment anyway?
“Am I having fun watching you with another woman at my engagement party?” You ask softly, shaking your head. “I get it, I’m not your type. I knew that from people telling me so.”
He pauses, right in the center of the dance floor.
“Yet I expected some decorum, I expected you to at least be respectful, not to show the world how unappealing you find me,” you whisper, biting down on your lip, shaking your head now. “I wanted to at least try here, with you.”
Satoru can’t speak.
Until he spins you, and catches you, his big hand taking over your waist, thumb pressing under the swell of your breasts. He almost falls then, from just a look, yet he holds himself back, he stops every insane thought and action, laughing easily, like he’s amused.
Satoru is good at hiding.
“Ya thought we’d have some story book romance, huh? Oh… you’re a fairy princess and I’m from another kingdom? And oh…” He leans down, so low to you, lips a breath away. “I fall for the princess, she’s just so beautiful, how can’t I?”
“Gojo…”
“News to you, perfect little fairy princess, I’m not interested in marriage, or any of this shit, this show, I fucking hate it,” his words are harsh, as he squeezes you too tightly, so tightly you’re shaking, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Your prince from another kingdom just stuck his fingers in a waitress. That’s reality, sweetheart.”
You tremble in his hold, and he knows then.
He hurt you.
Good, he thinks, shit will be easier that way, safer if you hate him, if you smack him, tell him to fuck himself. Yet you tilt your chin up and spin as the dance calls for, giving a little curtsey as he steps closer, not showing a hint of emotion aside from your tears that you seemingly can’t stop.
“I see,” is all you say then, stepping back into his arms, as the crowd of gossiping families speaks of it all, you hold all of your composure, even as he raises a brow, looking down at you. “Maybe I am foolish, to have thought it that way. Yet I still don’t understand why you’re…”
“What, little princess? So mean?”
You just look down again, quiet, swallowing visibly, you smell too good, invading his fucking senses. “I didn’t think you were mean when I met you as a child.”
“As a child?” Satoru pauses, and you sigh, shaking your head.
“Of course you wouldn’t remember, I’m not very special.” You step back as the song ends, and your tragic eyes meet his, before lowering them and bowing a little bit. “Have a good rest of your evening, I’m feeling a little…” You look at the girl he’d just kissed. “Sick.”
When you rush off, politely excusing yourself, Satoru feels this sinking in his heart, questions simmering under the surface – what if he just was kind to you? What if he at least didn't make a fool of himself?
But he doesn't go after you, no that would have been the ‘right’ thing to do. The thing is, you're much better off without him. So he's dancing with women who make his family furiously whisper amongst themselves, and he just knows -
You will hate him, and you’re better off for it.
*****
You
You didn't expect a fairy tale marriage. Even marrying the man who is basically the ‘prince’ of all the families, all of the clans, the Gojo heir. You may as well be the ‘princess’ of your own, both of you promised as children to each other, knowing no love or match would come to anything.
This was it, your future, but you met him when he was just a little kid, he's two years older than you. His blue eyes and spiky white hair were enough to make your heart race, but mostly you noticed how sad those blue eyes were.
He wasn't mean then, he was kind and reserved, not boisterous, laughing and acting a fool. He was cautious more like you are, both of you not wanting to disappoint your very harsh parents who had so many expectations. Satoru had given you his hand, holding it tightly, pressing a little kiss on the back of it.
So you'll be my wife some day
Yeah…
You're um… pretty.
That was it, just a moment and then he'd had to run off. And you only saw Satoru in bits and pieces, here and there from afar, watching and knowing he didn’t notice you. Yet that moment gave you hope.
Just to fucking crush it all.
It's your wedding night, and his staff is carrying all of your luggage inside the expensive mansion. Satoru is drunk, you notice he is around you, as if that helps with the pain of having to be married to you, stumbling just a bit and chuckling darkly when you try to help him.
“I'm fine,” he yanks your hand off like you burned him. Your tummy is in knots, you feel sick. “Let me show you your room. Princess.”
He says it always mockingly, tonight you know he was with someone again, he's made no attempt to hide kissing others. You're sure he probably does more, but you're innocent yourself so you don't exactly know what's what. Your parents pounded innocence and propriety in your head.
You'll be Gojo’s wife, you must be pure for him.
What a joke, really, to be pure for someone who will never want you, to watch him kissing on necks in the gardens, laughing until he sees your face. You never have been a very confident girl, but everyone has always told you that you're pretty, lovely, so you sort of didn't think your looks were an issue.
Then again, it could just be you. Maybe you're boring, maybe you're too proper. Your mind wracks with doubts as he leads you up the winding staircase of the Gojo mansion up to a dark hallway. He opens a door and you pause, breath catching in your throat at how beautiful it is.
“This is our room?” You ask softly, the blue silk bed and gossamer canopy snug in a room of soft whites and blues. He chuckles, making you look at him.
“They had it made for us, pretentious isn't it?” You blink a bit.
“I think it's beautiful,” it's quiet when you step in, still in your beaded and saying white wedding gown. You slip off your veil and take a breath. Looking in the mirror.
You look gorgeous today.
No matter what he says or doesn't say, you see it in that reflection. In your lashes, in your eyes, in your lips, painted a pretty crimson. Your body is showcased to perfection, modest but still sensual, just hints of your lines and curves outlined, the material glinting in the soft light.
“Your room,” he says at the doorway, and you pause, making him smirk. “You didn't think we were fucking did you?”
You blush furiously, looking down nervously at your hands entwined in front of you. “I did think we would… make the marriage official even if you don't find me attractive.”
It's dead silent, lingering in the air – your insecurities rampant.
“Why? Because our duty?” He asks, stepping inside, his dress shoes echoing on the floor, coming to stand behind you, reflection in the mirror making you tremble.
“We will need to have babies, it's expected of me. Or I'll be… a failure as a wife.” Your voice breaks, and for a moment you see blue eyes soften, you feel fingertips slipping over your straps, yet they halt, and his eyes narrow.
“I won't fuck you, not for duty or expectations, fuck them and fuck that.”
It's like a slap to the face. You take a breath, trembling now. “Gojo, am I that displeasing really? I tried so hard to look-”
“Nothing will make me fuck you,” he murmurs coolly. “We will ride this shit out till I find a way to end it somehow.”
“End it?” your brows draw together, eyes swimming in unshed tears, his fingers slip off now, going to your back, slowly undoing the little rows of buttons methodically.
“An annulment, divorce, whatever… fuck this shit, I'm not staying married.” he is casual as he helps you out of your dress, knuckles tracing up your spine, then he smirks. “Oh shit. You want me? Hah… that's cute.”
“I… um… you…” You're flushed, reflection in the mirror blushing, as you look at him, his cruel smirk, his mean eyes. “Am I not supposed to want you?”
“Of course you do, I am Satoru Gojo,” he presses those straps down, pausing when he gets a view of your breasts as you hold the dress against them, your back exposed and bare. “You can always touch yourself and think of me, who am I to deny that? But I will never touch you.”
It's like he just stabs you in the stomach. You turn, facing the cruel, tall man now, on the night you hoped for something, anything, but you're just met with a mean curve of his lips. “So what, you'll just… fuck anyone but me?”
“You can cuss?” He laughs a bit, fingers curling along one of the carefully coifed ringlets.
“Yes, I can. I just don't usually,” you take a breath. Trying to remember.
Obey him.
Treasure him.
For your family
“You don't know me and you won't even try to, will you?”
“You want dick that bad, huh?” You gasp, slapping him as hard as you can then, he winces and rubs his cheek, glaring at you. You falter, looking at his pink cheek and gasping.
“I'm sorry. I…”
“Let's get one thing straight, princess,” Satoru Gojo leans over you, an arm on either side, tilting his head as you grip your wedding dress tightly to your chest. “We can do our own things. I get it. You have to live here for now.”
For now.
“But don't you dare fucking hit me,” he grips your wrist, bruising with his long fingers, you gasp out at the pain, tears falling. “Not used to men not wanting you, huh?”
“What!?” You're blinking in confusion, his grip tightening, your heart sinking.
You feel so sick.
“Never been turned down because you're the family princess, aww. So cute,” he leans down, touching your cheek, eyes a cruel bluee. “Everyone after that money, after a chance with you, so special. Well you're not fucking special to me, we are just the same.”
“I don't think I'm special or anything!? I never said that.”
“Don't have to, I can just see it.”
You're shaking in his hold. “I just thought we could try, you don't even know if we have anything, a connection or-”
Gojo laughs at you.
He laughs.
“Try what, fucking you? You want my dick real bad.”
“No!? Just if we could feel a connection? I… like you haven't kissed me, how do you even-”
Satoru grabs your face, leaning low and pressing his lips against yours, capturing them and making you lose your breath. You melt when his plump lips work yours, when a hand comes to entangle in your hair, your hands slipping off your dress so that your nipples hit the cool air.
His tongue slips in your mouth, exploring the recesses with far too much finesse, hot and drooling as he presses you against the hard wood of the dresser.
You've never kissed.
You try to move your tongue back, knowing you're awful at it, your arms slipping around his neck. He's mean, he's cruel, but you want to try, you want to have this. Feel whatever this dizzy sensation is, one of his hands gripping your breast as he pulls back, lips glossy, eyeing them now.
“I'll give you this,” he murmurs softly. “You have perfect tits.”
“Um…” You're stammering again, whimpering when his thumb brushes your nipple.
“Perfect posture, pretty face, nice little body. It's not enough though sweetheart," he pulls back now, grinning and crossing his arms as you just stand there. “There, your kiss, and there's nothing between us. Is there? Enough to shove that fantasy out of your head?”
Nothing!?
“You think keeping your tits out will make me hard?” You gasp, covering them up, blinking back more hot tears.
He wipes his lips with his thumb. As if to remove the kiss from his memory. You look down, pain making you dizzy – deep pain.
“I just… you’re so sure that this won’t work that you’re not trying!” He laughs softly, without humor.
Charming. Handsome. Cruel.
Satoru’s two fingers brush down your collarbone and across it, a mean smile on a devastatingly pretty face as he watches goosebumps dance across your skin. "You want me to touch you. Hmm?"
"I just…" you cover yourself with your arms now, suddenly so insecure, you were anyway but this was more. It was worse, having the man you've been infatuated with since a kid turning you down, on a night you felt so beautiful. "I just thought we could try to find some common ground, to maybe make this work. Become… more?"
He leans down, his sweet breath against your lips, tickling them as his blue eyes glitter, cold like the most beautiful sapphires, and just as hard, there’s no emotion in their depths. So cold you shiver, swallowing nervously.
"Oh sweetheart, I don't want any of it. What they tell me to do, what they expect, no... I'll burn it all to the fucking ground, and them with it.”
“Burn it to the ground?” Your whisper is soft, his lips curve mean when he grips your chin.
"You're a pretty girl, but I'm not for you. That's the most you're getting from me.”
Not. For. You.
"What is so wrong with me?” You hate how desperate you sound.
Was this who you are?
Do you know yourself outside of becoming Satoru Gojo's wife?
“It’s not…” he trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “You just don’t seem to get it, little princess. It’s an inconvenience, this entire thing.”
Great.
You’re just a fucking inconvenience to your ‘husband’.
“We will let them think we're good for a year, maybe two. Then I'll get out of this, you should thank me really, it's not like you chose it either.”
He turns now, leaving you close to collapsing, with the pain, with the casual cruelty. “Satoru…”
“Don't fucking call me that,” he snaps, looking back at you. You step back and bump into the elegant dresser, shaking as he looks at you with such hatred. “You don't get to call me my first name.”
“I am… I am sorry if I messed something up. If I did something wrong…” You're sniffling your tears, trying to keep it together. “I haven't even kissed before and I probably am just bad at it. Just give me a chance to-”
“Stop trying,” his voice is softer, like he fucking feels bad for you. That's worse than his cruelty – pity. “Just keep to yourself and I will too, until I find a way out of it. It's useless to try.”
“Useless to?”
“Sweetheart,” his tongue is honeyed, a lilt to his voice. “I'll never want you.”
The knife in your heart?
Twisted.
“Oh, I see…” You take a breath, just nodding then, hands gripping the beaded material so tightly they ache.
Obedient.
Sweet.
Serve your husband.
It's what you were trained to be, a traditional wife who follows her husband's orders, even your stinging palm was beyond what you're used to. How can you serve a man that doesn’t want you, how can you obey someone when their only order is for you to quit trying?
As he walks out, with just one look over his shoulder before he shuts that door, leaving you alone in the room on your own in tears on your very wedding night… how can you act like that kiss meant nothing to you? How can you not sink down on that bed all alone, and sob.
The boy you fell in love with doesn't remember you.
Doesn't want you.
No, he hates you.
And you'll have to endure this and be a failure to your parents, the worst of all your fears.
You don't stop sobbing until dawn breaks into the windows.
*****
Gojo
It's been a month of having you in his home, you're trying to be so perfect too. Dinner ready every night, you sit there and wait for him, smiling so pretty, wearing some new outfit as if he will ever touch you again, trying to talk to him, to get to know him.
Satoru can't stand you.
All you do is make him want to end it quicker, so that he has no feelings in this. No amount of slutty little slips or lingering before bed time is getting him to consummate the marriage, to give in to what his family and elders shoved on him, controlling his entire life.
Nah fuck that.
Satoru is balls deep inside his secretary right now, condom dripping with her cum as he lets her bounce up and down his latex covered cock. He leans back and moans as she works him like a pro, bouncing her ass and letting it jiggle under the shoved up pencil skirt.
Of course he thinks of you, fists his cock to images of those tits, imagines those lips around his tip. All the more reason to not fuck you, imagine if he did? You were a virgin, probably would lay there and not know how to do shit, you could barely kiss him back.
He'd have to be all gentle, not slam you down and bottom out like he could right now. She's moaning, too loud, he has to slam a hand on her mouth, lips against her ear.
“We're at work,” he reminds gently.
“Sorry Mr. Gojo. Mnh!” Satoru's big hands work her up and down, bottoming out as she cums, covering her own mouth as she screams out.
“Hah, so messy,” he taunts, she's squirting all over his Armani slacks, right when the door opens.
Fuck.
Did he not lock it?
He pauses, and its…
You.
You quickly shut the door and turn away, as his secretary gasps, panicking and lifting up. Satoru drags her back down, eyeing you.
“Wife,” he teases, you turn to look at him, lunchbox in your hands. “Didn't expect you at my work. Can I cum real quick, then we can talk?”
You say nothing, obedient little thing that you are, not an ounce of fire in you aside from a little smack. He supposes that's how you were raised, how boring really, but he shoves the woman down once more. Toying with her clit and making her moan in front of you, right as he busts in that condom, groaning softly.
“Fuck, there we go,” he taps her and she hops off, giggling when she tugs her skirt down, rushing past you.
“Mrs. Gojo.” she says, you just step back and nod.
“Hello.”
‘Hello’ is what you say, to the woman who'd been riding your husband's cock?
He tosses the condom in the trash under his desk, sighing and smirking over at you, when you turn and see him, still hard and covered in milky seed, turning back around again.
“I'm sorry.”
“You're sorry?” He demands, slipping his boxers up now. “I was fucking someone and you're sorry?”
“I should have called first,” you turn back again, as he zips up, cheeks tinged pink.
You look beautiful today.
He wouldn't tell you. But you do.
“I was just… I learned to make sushi? I was so bored lately. Then… they kind of look ugly? But they're um… yummy and-”
“Just stop, fuck,” you look at him, tears in your eyes, clenched fists at your side when he takes the bento box. “Stop trying so hard, it's not gonna happen.”
“Gojo-”
“Stop, don't hurt yourself more.”
“But why am I so… why would you never ever want me?” you whisper brokenly then. “I am not trying to be mean but her? She's not even… attractive!? I don't-”
He laughs at you again, shaking his head. “You are a spoiled rich girl, a mean little thing. Because she's not drop dead gorgeous I couldn't want her? Looks mean nothing really, little princess. It's just you who I don't want.”
Your breasts heave up and down, finally a glare on your otherwise sad little pretty face. “I am trying!”
“I don't want you to fucking try, constantly acting like the perfect wife. I don't want it. Don't want you, how clear can I fucking make it!?”
You step up to him then, tilting your head to look up at the tall, cruel man, lipstick on his fucking neck, smirking at you. “Well maybe I don't want YOU, but I fucking TRY.”
“Oh. You want me,” he tilts your chin up, grinning at you, feeling your skin hot to the touch. “Bet you're so desperate you'd lick her pussy off me. Wouldn't you? For a chance.”
“I would never,” you shake your head. “Fine, you win. I won't try anymore.”
“Good. It's for your own best interest,” he pats your cheek and smiles. “What's on your plans today, hmm little perfect wife?”
“Not making dinner.” he smirks at you again. “Not trying for you ever again.”
You rush out of the door, dejected, shoulders slumped, when you look back at him though?
That look.
Heartbroken, devastated, done for. Like you just lost all your goddamn will to live.
That one hurts.
Satoru was not cruel before you. Sure he was a dick, he played a lot, he was conceited, but to make you give up trying made him have to push you away. If even fucking in front of you didn't he had to push it further, and he thinks that's the moment you gave up on him.
It's for your own best interest to end this when he can, to be strangers.
Your eyes are burned in his brain as he opens your dumb bento box, and sees these pretty little Sushi. Shaped like little hearts with pink paper instead of the traditional.
He swallows down his guilt when he sees them laid out with a cup of soup, rice, a drink even. And a little note on pink paper.
He hates himself more when he opens it.
Gojo, I know you don't want me, don't want this, but if we could just try… I think there could be something, truly. When we kissed I did feel it, somewhere buried under the surface.
I know I'm not who you chose, or who you want, but I hope one day we could grow to like each other. I am trying my hardest and I just hope that it can be enough.
Have a great day at work, I will see you at home.
Tears slip onto the note, bleeding the ink through the paper, he looks at the shut door you'd walked out of, remembering your eyes..they'd always fucking haunt him. That look of defeat written all over them.
You were bringing him lunch and love notes when he was letting a secretary ride his cock.
“Mr. Gojo?” his assistant opens his door, and he pauses, looking up at her. “You have a two a clock.”
“Right…” He just stares at the sushi, at the note, before shutting his eyes, swiping off tears he hasn't cried since he was a little kid.
That night, no dinner is made by you. No it's the chefs as it should always be, but it's a sign, as is you not in that dining room waiting for him. He walks around the mansion, looking for you, for any sign that you're in his home.
Why does he care?
He hears your sobs from the room you are supposed to share, and rests his door on it.
Why did you have to try so hard, when he told you not to?
“He will never w-want me…” You're sobbing and hiccuping. “Never enough.”
He swallows down his own self loathing, resting his head on the door, wondering at just who he is. Is this Satoru Gojo, or is this Satoru Gojo trying to be anything else but what he's always been pushed into?
He walks off to his own room, shutting the door. He'd have to end this marriage soon as he can, in whatever way that meant – to get you the fuck away from him. You may hate him for it, but at least you'd have a little bit of a choice in your life.
*****
You
You come home from an event with Satoru, a press junket where you have to act like a happy newlywed. And you do just that, you play your role, giggling with his hand on your waist, the most contact you've had since that kiss – the one where he felt nothing for you. The one that you felt shaken from, suddenly fucking delusional, in spite of the fact of one thing.
Satoru Gojo made sure to let you know there was no chance, he didn’t mince words, didn’t lead you on, it was your own hope that made you keep trying that first month, that hope that even after seeing him with his dick inside a woman, maybe he’d feel anything. Fuck, he made sure to cum before she got off of him, didn’t even stop mid fuck.
That’s how unimportant you were.
Yet even then you tried, until he made that disgusting comment – licking another woman off him? Calling you pathetic?
Well, you were.
You were not going to be cruel to him despite the rage in your heart, however, you just no longer try, it’s quiet when you take off your heels at the door, and he slips off his dress shoes. You both say nothing, but you feel his eyes on you at times, as if he expects some word out of your mouth.
You no longer say good morning, good night, you just live your life with Satoru for another month like this, he’ll have a girl over in his room, but you keep to yourself, living so alone… yet, with him.
Your few friends you have get worried for you, every time you get to see them over the next couple months you look more tired, you don’t look like you’re eating, you have dark circles under your eyes, the eyes that don’t glimmer any longer. They share their concerns quietly, over a nice brunch, but you act like everything is just fine.
Tonight your mother had pulled you aside, making sure to dissect your looks to a fault, including said dark circles – As if you didn’t have enough insecurities just being married to Satoru Gojo, a man who’d fuck anyone but you.
“You have to keep yourself together, look he’s all over those women,” she whispers, you would laugh but you know better, the woman who beat submission into your head was right here. You just look down, nodding.
“He always is.”
“So you need to get his attention,” you sigh, wanting to explain how hard you tried, even in lieu of him fucking that secretary in front of you, but you merely nod once more. “Get yourself together, you look like you haven’t slept in a week, your hair is oily even. What’s wrong with you!?”
What’s wrong with you?
You peer over to your tall, white haired husband surrounded by women in the ridiculously extravagant event, glamorously dressed when you chose a thin silk number, not caring anymore. You didn’t do your makeup, what did that matter? It’s not as if he’d ever look at you anyway.
“You’ll make him look bad, make us all look bad, you must gather yourself together and try more. Have I not raised you to be the perfect wife?”
The perfect wife.
To a husband who hates you.
“You did indeed Mother,” you manage to say, clearing your throat that night, feeling the eyes of so many curiously flit between you both. “I shall try not to disappoint you and father.”
Yet you are done trying, as he asked you to be, walking up the stairs now with him slowly trailing behind, as if to make sure there was enough space between the both of you.
Try a gym!
Or a spa day?
You need self care babe!
Yeah, your friends advice about self care was not enough for what you’re going through, but they ring in your head, as you head to your room, and reach around to try to unzip your dress. You curse, moving your hand in every which way, you then try to tug it up off you, but it’s half stuck with the tight material.
Fuck, you’re gonna have to ask him.
“Gojo…” You say, standing by his door, he’s up typing away on the laptop, shirtless, his body cut and chisled, muscles moving as he sits up straighter, eyeing you carefully.
“You, coming to my room?” You flush furiously, looking down.
“Don’t worry, I’ll never, ever ask to be intimate again,” you whisper, the pain still piercing your heart, your soul. He just looks down. “I just really can’t get out of this dress, and I swear to god it’s not a hit on or seduction.”
“Ah,” he doesn’t gloat like usual, standing up now, his sweats falling down his hips, you wish he didn’t look so good like that, coming up to you carefully, everything flexing as he walks. “Zipper stuck?”
“I think so, and it won’t go up over my damn hips,” you grumble, when he comes closer. “I’m sorry.”
“You apologize constantly,” you just nod again. “Turn around.”
You do that, lifting your hair off the nape of your neck for him, two of his fingers grasp the metal zipper, slipping it down achingly slow, the noise loud in his quiet room, mixing with his own catch of breath. It’s quiet, a few tendrils falling against the nape of your neck, as the zipper jams just a bit, stuck in the middle.
“Hang on…” He mumbles, clearly irritated, holding the dress tight together and then grasping it, jerking you just a bit as he finally gets it down. “There.”
“Thank you, Gojo,” you say softly, as he looks at the smooth expanse of your back, and for a moment neither of you move, you turn to face him, still holding your hair up. “I didn’t mean to bug you.”
He doesn’t say anything, knuckles brushing down your spine lightly, enough to make you ache in your core, something you’ve never really felt before this moment. You swallow nervously, blushing and looking away, you can’t make a fucking fool out of yourself again.
You will not push something he clearly doesn’t want, it’s just not right – even in the name of ‘marriage’ it should be Satoru’s choice too, and he so clearly would never choose you, in any world. You turn now, straps slipping down your shoulders, his bright blue eyes get dark and lidded when his gaze hits your tits, the tops of them showcased with the little dress half off.
“I’ll let you um… sleep.” You say, he just blinks a moment, clearing his throat now.
“Yeah.”
You slowly walk out, wondering if it is just you looking for something, anything, the way you damn near begged him to notice you, to want you, it was as he said – pathetic. Even knowing he’s fucking women actively, that he doesn’t have the time of day for you at all, you still crave it, you still don’t retaliate.
His phone rings, and you hear him murmuring while you’re in the hallway –
Hey sweets, hmm… I bet you do miss me.
You feel your feet get heavy, you’ve been barely eating because you’re just fucking miserable, but hearing that as his door shuts and you walk to your lonely room sinks in. The miserable realization that he doesn’t care about you, that even if he gave you a glance, it was nothing, you were nothing to him.
You slip that dress off when you’re in your bedroom, looking at yourself in the mirror, even just his proximity always put a blush to your cheeks, as if your body was betraying your mind. You remember what your friends told you the other day, their concerned gazes, and the way they tried to be supportive when they barely know the half of what you endure.
Having to hear your husband jerking it on the phone and talking another girl through it when he has never touched you?
You are tired of crying, so tired.
You look up gyms in the area, sure that’s not really going to help a damn thing, but it might be enough to keep you busy, considering you can’t even work as a Gojo wife, and you’re left alone too often in the quiet, thinking too much. You pick one and map it, while laying in your bed and snuggling, yawning a bit as sleep starts to drag you under.
“All right, let’s see if self care will help me at all,” you say to yourself quietly, drifting off into a dreamless sleep, as you have been.
What’s there to dream about anymore?
*****
Sukuna
His knuckles are aching from hitting the big heavy black bag, punching it over and over, his class is done but Sukuna always loves to blow some steam off, and the best way is to beat the bag to a pulp. His ruby eyes are locked on the target, exhaling and controlling his breathing.
One, two.
One, two, punch.
Cross, jab, hook.
It’s methodical, it’s easy, even as his muscles ache – that ache is sweet, it’s so perfect to feel, he grins as he imagines beating the fuck out of so many people then. Start with his shit father – his mother gets a pass only due to being a woman – and then, all the little pretentious shits he went to college with.
Sukuna was supposed to be training to become a CEO, to take over his father’s position, and be a nepo baby like the rest of those damn men he partied with at the frat in college. Yet, he never, ever wanted that, and he built something for himself – several gyms, he’s trained pro boxers, national champions.
This was what Sukuna wanted to do.
Mostly, he loved to box, he cared just a little bit enough not to join those matches himself – oh, what would that look like!? The Sukuna heir going into a boxing ring!? Yet, at the same time, he had dreams of it. Of being in a ring and knocking everyone out, pushing that ‘family disappointment’ name even further.
For now, however, there is peace in the quiet gym.
That is, until you walk in.
Tired and fucking beautiful, these dark circles that sit under your eyes, a shy little nervous smile, about five minutes before he closes. You stand at the door and look around, frowning then and staring at your phone, wearing some pretty little yoga outfit and a big sweater, like you were getting ready for pilates rather than kickboxing.
“I’m sorry, first off for coming so late, second… ugh I thought you were a regular gym! Where is my brain…” You smack your forehead, turning, when he literally runs up to you, stopping you before fully thinking of it.
Sukuna, running.
You really are that pretty, when he sees a giant rock on your finger he curses internally, sighing.
“I do other things here, a whole room of workout machinery,” he says then, his voice just a little gruff, when you turn and look up at him, so shy, you look right back down at your feet, hugging yourself a bit. “I can show you, just need to lock up.”
“You probably want to get home, god I’m sorry, I slept all day like a miserable… oh… so sorry.” You have said sorry again, rambling now, making Sukuna wonder.
Just who has you this down? This shy? This clearly hurt?
“I meant to come earlier,” you blink back tears, looking up again with them swimming in your pretty eyes, so pretty he can’t decide what color they are, but the way they look at him almost takes him out. “I set an alarm, and promised I would make myself do something, then I just… hit it over and over. And now I’m rambling.”
“And crying,” he smirks a bit, swiping off a tear. “Rambling, crying, coming in late too, huh?”
“I know I’m so-”
“I’m teasing,” he chuckles softly, shaking his head and tilting your chin up. “If you want to do any sport, you need eye contact. Even when they’re all red and bloodshot.”
“Well your eyes are red too! I mean, oh my god!?” You cover your mouth, he laughs again softer this time. “I’m sorry, I like their color, they’re beautiful. Not to say I am hitting on you! Oh dear god…”
“Will you take a breath?” You shut your eyes, nodding. “A deep one, in… there you go, and out.”
Your breasts rise and fall, the sweater slipping further off a shoulder, as he takes in the mess that’s come to his doorstep – a beautiful, tragically broken mess that does something he can’t explain. When you swipe your cheeks and try to give a tremulous smile, you break whatever heart Sukuna has in his chest.
Who fucking hurt you like this?
Damage recognizes damage, but this…
“Don’t apologize a fourth time, yeah?” You nod then, sniffling a bit and attempting a better smile.
“I really just want to… apparently I need self care, my friends say, and I thought a gym might… help. But I can’t box, or kickbox.”
“Why not? You've got a lot of pent up tension," his hands brush down your shoulders softly, feeling the tenseness. "Bet you’d kill it."
"Me!?" You giggled nervously but he was serious, a huge handsome man crossing his arms and raising a brow, leaned back a bit in the quietness of his gym. "Kickboxing, huh?"
"Think you can't?"
You shake your head, and he sees it all over your face –
You don’t think you can do anything.
“Why not? Husband wants you all girlie or something?” He addresses the ring with a glance, you laugh without humor, your face darkening then.
“He doesn’t give a shit what I do, no, we’re not,” you trail off, shaking your head. “I dumped enough trauma on you just walking in here. What’s your name?”
“Sukuna,” he takes your hand, feeling yours just a little sweaty in his grip. “What do you mean doesn’t give a shit?”
“He doesn’t like me.” He blinks at that.
“Trouble in paradise?”
You laugh again, shaking your head. “Let’s say he’s done more with his secretary than me so far,” Sukuna frowns at that, raising a dark brow. “It’s okay, really don’t feel bad for me. I just need something to get my mind off it.”
Who the fuck wouldn’t want you?
He almost says it, but he holds back, nudging his head now. “Lemme show you around the gym.”
He locks the door behind you so no random people try to come after hours, and you follow him through, looking up at the ceiling – it’s high, wooden beams running across it, it was once an old factory before Sukuna bought it off the guy. The walls are all red and orange brick, some of it is painted white, with graffiti art.
“That’s so cool,” you murmur, walking up to it then, touching it gently. “What is all of this?”
“Some of the guys like to come tag it,” he says, there are all sorts of images scrawled, along with Sukuna’s name in big red letters, little demon horns over the U. “I think they’re callin’ me the devil.”
“No!” You laugh, the sound so foreign to your own ears, he can just tell when you sober up a bit, smiling gently now. “You, the devil?”
“Mmm, you don’t know shit about me yet,” you blush a bit at the insinuation. “You’d run out if you knew what I was thinking.”
“You don’t have to be so… nice to me, okay? Because you feel bad.”
Sukuna blinks his pink lashes. “Huh?”
“I can tell, you’re a really good person,” you walk up to him, touching his hand now, sucking in a breath at the contact, fingers tracing his calloused, beat up knuckles. “Thank you though.”
“You think I’m pretending to find you attractive?” He almost can’t take you serious, but your face says it all. “Yeah, no, I’m not that nice. Now follow me before I say something real fucking dumb.”
You’re a flustered mess, letting your hand fall and nodding.
“This is where you’d like to be,” he mentions, toward the room with all of the normal equipment – treadmills, ellipticals, rowing machines, all sleek and black. “So you can just do your normal little workouts. Yoga mats and all.”
“Oh! I see,” you’re just a step behind him, he can inhale that perfume, he doesn’t know what scent it is but it’s driving him insane, when he stops and you bump into him. “Ah!”
He catches you quickly, frowning a bit at how weak you seem, assessing you. “You eat anything today?”
You blink a bit.
How'd he notice?
“No.”
“It’s six?”
“Yeah, not for a couple days,” you mumble. Sukuna glares at you, far, far too attractive and you’re not even fucking eating.
“If you have some… problem, you gotta tell me if I’m gonna train you, yeah?”
“No, nothing like that, just can’t eat when I’m sad,” your words are soft, barely over a whisper, running your fingers along the arm of a treadmill. “It’s been a few days I guess.”
“A few days, the fuck?” What sort of husband lets his wife just not eat?
He supposes the kind that makes her an unconfident, sad girl that cries the moment she enters a gym. Sukuna knows damn well he shouldn’t get involved in the shit, but just looking at you hurts him, in a way he’s not sure he’s felt, recognizing a version of himself so long ago, when he was young, when he wanted that approval, when he craved it so badly.
But more than that.
“If you don’t eat tomorrow I’ll be shoving food in your mouth,” you laugh at that, covering your mouth again. “I’m serious, the fuck you mean days?”
“I will make myself eat before I come.”
“And you’ll come at a decent time, yeah? Not before I close. Do I need to set three alarms to get your bratty ass up?”
“Bratty!?” you laugh again, shaking your head, the sight so fucking cute it destroys him.
God he’d drop to his knees just to kiss up those thighs, fucking lick you right over those leggings, the ones just a little snug against your puffy lips. And he can tell when you’re close how excited you are, the way your pupils blow out, the way you bite down on that lower lip, the one already chapped from likely biting it to death.
“No one has ever called me bratty,” you muse softly. “The opposite, actually.”
“Well maybe they don’t see it buried all in there, under a cute little fucking yoga outfit,” he brushes your hair back. His mistake, his undoing, and not kissing you is maybe the hardest thing he’s done.
You’re married.
He’s trying to give a fuck about that.
“C’mon brat,” you giggle again. “Here is the ring.”
You pause, looking at the huge rectangular boxing ring, surrounded by mats, boxing bags hanging heavy and worn all over, red and black ropes surrounding it. “Is this where you all practice?”
“Mhm,” he leads you over to a bag, touching it, old and black and hanging, one of his big hands touching it now. “Tomorrow you’ll punch it, today you didn’t eat so you don’t get to.”
“Mean,” your lips twitch though, the color to your face just brighter, your eyes glittering. Fuck you’re pretty sad, and happy, he can only imagine more. “All right, I promise, full breakfast.”
“Eat some dinner, too, then I’ll let you kick it.”
“The bag?”
“No, me.”
“What!?” You laugh again, Sukuna snorts and rolls his ruby red eyes, those pink lashes fluttering. “You’re joking, oh!”
“Yeah, a joke,” he tugs on that pony tail your hair is thrown in. “Two pm, don’t be late.”
When you’re gone he’s locking up, watching you slip into some bmw, waving a bit before you back up, wondering what’s this feeling in his heart, in his gut.
Sukuna loves women, he loves being inside them, pleasuring them, but he’s never just enjoyed making someone smile that much. Knowing you’re married should be a hell of a deterrent, whether he’s clearly a dick or not, Sukuna can’t just swoop in and be with married women.
Right?
Yet when he’s in bed that night, he finds himself throbbing, thinking of seeing your pretty face in pleasure. And he knows damn well whatever ‘morals’ he should have about it aren’t going to help him not make you feel good, in just any fucking way you need him to.
*****
You
“Never seen you eat so much,” Satoru murmurs when he walks in, lipstick across his neck, you’re downing some soup, realizing just how starved you were. “Have the chefs make something.”
“I just haven’t eaten in a week,” you say softly, Satoru’s eyes widen, then narrow a bit, while you dab at your mouth with a napkin. “I guess I’m hungry.”
“A week? What nothing here good, they can order anything.”
“I was too depressed,” the honesty is something you’d usually hold in, but something about meeting Sukuna today…
Everything about him.
The way he looked at you, that smirk was teasing, not cruel – he listened to you, he seemed to care, him a stranger. You know it’s nonsense, a man trying to be kind to a crying woman, but it meant a lot, even if that’s all it was. You’d walked in with a smile you haven’t had since you married him.
Satoru Gojo.
“A week? You can die from that shit,” he glares now, and you laugh, but this time it’s a mean little sound. “You think you can’t?”
“Sure, but what would you care?” You take a sip of the wine you’d poured, Satoru’s finest vintage, letting it dance along your tongue. “Wouldn’t it make your life easier if I did?”
His lips part, brows drawing together. “I don’t want you to fucking die, okay? Fuck.”
“You wouldn’t care,” you swirl the wine around, leaning back in the seat, eyes locked with the man you’ve tried so hard to make like you. To just come near you, to give you a chance. “I’m nothing to you.”
He says nothing in the quiet of the dining room.
“You didn’t notice.”
“Well, no I don’t eye your every move, figured you eat before I get home or some shit,” he runs a hand through his silky white locks, eyeing you carefully. “Do you want them to order something specific? Just because me and you will never be anything, doesn’t mean I want you to starve in my fucking house.”
“Nah, I like everything they have here,” you finish the wine in a gulp, an unladylike one that makes Satoru raise his brows, standing then, sighing. “It’s hard to eat when you can’t stop crying, when you constantly feel sick to your stomach knowing the man you live with hates your existence.”
You walk up and he says your name, you pause and look back at him. “I never said don’t eat, yeah?”
“No, you didn’t. But her lipstick is all over your neck, and up on that collar,” he touches it then, looking at the crimson on his pale fingertips. You step up to him, so close you inhale that scent. “Can you buy your sluts some decent fucking perfume, aren’t you rich?”
“What the fuck!?” You smile, you’ve never cussed, but it feels amazing in that moment, seeing him sputter. “What are you going on about, and what’s got your ass so fucking peppy?”
“Their knock off perfume, it’s all over you, every night. Buy them some Chanel or something, yeah? Not like you have to buy me anything, I have my own money. The scent makes me nauseous,” you turn again, Satoru grips your wrist, making you pause for just a moment, shutting your eyes.
Nothing, he feels nothing.
“Thought you didn’t cuss?”
“You don’t know me and you don’t want to.”
He lets you go, no argument, just quiet.
“I’m starting training at the gym,” you mention quietly. “I’ll be going there tomorrow.”
“Some yoga class?”
“Boxing.”
Satoru blinks, you just smile, tugging your wrist out of his grip. “You? Boxing?”
“Mhm, good night Gojo.”
You head up the stairs to your room, falling back on the bed, shutting your eyes, feeling good for the first time since that engagement party, for the first time in months there was something brimming under the surface. Some sort of hope.
Tonight you don’t hear him moaning, or talking to his girls, it’s quiet, and you’re thankful, shutting your eyes and falling into a deep sleep.
You’re haunted by two sets of eyes, two sets of hands, blue ones that are glaring, red ones that are hungry, long thin fingers choking your neck, suffocating you, thick ones painted black freeing you. Torn between them, claustrophobic in the darkness, where all you can see are their eyes.
You wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, holding your racing heart, thrumming against your palm, before you fall back asleep, and there is only one pair of eyes.
And they’re red.
Tysm AGAIN for 30k my loves <3 this will be a doozy
Patreon for more exclusive fics - Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass🍷
summary: tempt and revolt are the band everyone craves. louder, wilder, insanely popular. onstage, sparks fly between you, the magnetic lead singer, and sukuna, the tattooed guitarist fans swear you’re in love with. offstage, it’s messier: an old fling with toji, the bassist, resurfaces. a scandal explodes, and the press circles like vultures. in the chaos, you and sukuna find yourselves pulled into something deeper than late nights and lust. fame is brutal, but so is love, and this time, neither of you can hide behind the 'bestfriend' label. (smut, angst, fluff!)
the walls shake with it, the loud roar of the buzzing crowd. they're already screaming, your band's name spilling out of their throats like they can’t get enough even though you haven’t stepped on stage yet. it seeps through the concrete, a steady pulse that rattles through your ribs. you sit on the couch in the green room, legs crossed, mic grasped in your hand tight.
toji’s sprawled across the leather armchair to the right of you, his bass balanced on his knee like he'd done it a thousand times. he’s tuning it lazy, head tilted, a fresh blunt hanging from his lips, one he doesn’t even take out when he talks.
“crowd’s loud as fuck tonight,” he mutters, strumming a line that vibrates low and filthy through the room. “gonna eat you alive out there, ma.” he stares you down like he knows you inside and out, and maybe he does, but it doesn't make it any less dominating.
“they always eat her alive,” choso says. he’s sitting on the floor, back against the wall, twirling his drumsticks like he was born with them in his hands. his eyes are heavy-lidded, dark eyeliner smudged underneath, hair tied back but already slipping loose. “they’ll probably cry when we finish up too. they always do.”
you laugh, short, sharp, but it comes out breathless. you can still hear them out there, chanting, begging, and you want it, need it, the way you always do before a set.
and then he walks in.
sukuna.
guitar strapped across his back, black beater already sticking to his skin like he came straight from hell. the tattoos peppering his face glow dark under the shitty overhead light, sprawling across his chest, down his arms, up his throat. he doesn’t bother with a greeting, just drops into the seat next to you, body pressed warm against yours like he owns the space.
you could feel it, the constant gaze of ryomens velvet eyes, watching you as if he was watching a deer in a cage. like all he wanted to do was pounce, take you away and keep you all to himself.
you were perfect, a glistening pice of heaven.
your voice was smooth and sexy in the way that made men weak in the knees and caused women to scream and cry in anticipation, your beauty only added to the effect, earning you the title of hottest rocker in your country's daily rock magazine almost weekly.
sukuna knew how precious you were, how utterly mesmerising one person could be, and he treasured you as such. your best friend, the one you turned to when shit got rough, the one you'd fall asleep on thousands of times after long rehearsals, the one who'd carry you to his bed, tucking you into his side and kissing your forehead goodnight.
your relationship was far from labeled, but everyone close to you knew the two of you were never just friends.
“so, let's confirm the setlist." he says, voice low, rough, dripping with boredom he doesn’t really feel.
you flip through the scribbled paper on the coffee table, the ink smudged where your fingers have dragged over it a hundred times.
“start with venom,” you say. “then into sugarcoat, do a few from the newest album, then end with blackout.”
toji grins around his blunt. “lusty as fuck. crowd’s gonna lose their shit.”
“they better,” sukuna mutters, leaning back, stretching out until his arm drapes across the back of the couch behind you. his smirk is lazy, sharp at the edges where his fangs protrude. “don’t make me carry your ass through the whole set again, y/n.”
you shoot him a look, lips pressed together to keep from smiling. “you couldn’t carry me if you tried.”
his grin widens, teeth flashing. “please. you live off my riffs.”
the room hums with it, that charge that always sparks between you. choso rolls his eyes, mutters something under his breath about 'sexual tension', and goes back to drumming a rhythm against his knees.
toji laughs, low and slow. “he’s not wrong though. you two sound like you’re fucking on stage half the time.”
heat spikes in your chest, crawling up your throat, but you cover it with a smirk. “that’s the point,” you say, letting your voice drip honey. “the crowd eats it up.”
“yeah,” sukuna says, leaning closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “they eat it up. but you? you like it too.”
you look away, pretending to fuss with the setlist, ignoring the way your pulse skips. his hand is close, too close, resting on the back of the couch like it could drop to your shoulder at any second. ignoring the way one of his fingers begin slowly stroking your shoulder.
your eyes flutter to the tattoo on his right bicep, 'tempt & revolt' inked in a pretty font, the name of your little band, he was always one for promotion.
the muffled roar outside rises again, louder, like the crowd knows you’re just behind the wall. you can almost hear your name tangled in the noise, chanted, begged for.
“they’re fucking rabid,” choso mutters,
"let's give them something to scream louder for then."
the stage manager knocks on the door, shouting five minutes. the noise outside swells again, pounding, fevered. you stand, smoothing your clothes, mic clutched tight. your heart is already racing.
toji hauls himself up with a grunt, slinging his bass over his shoulder, lazy grin plastered on his face. choso pushes off the wall, rolling his shoulders, spinning his sticks like he’s bored of waiting.
sukuna rises last, towering, dangerous, every inch of him electric. he looks down at you, smirk softening just enough to make your stomach flip.
and when you step into the hall, the sound of the crowd slams into you, so loud it feels like the world itself is about to split open.
you take a deep breath, and let the comforting opening of venom wash over you, your voice igniting a fiery passion in each and every person who sold out the show.
"welcome to tempt and revolts 'wreck me' tour!"
~
the set flew past with ease, a loud mess of people throwing their undergarments on stage, toji throwing his shirt off stage causing a free for all, and of course, thousands of adoring voices screaming your name over and over again.
with a final riff of sukunas guitar, the stadium went quiet as you approached the mic for the last time that night.
you glance at choso, who’s grinning through the crash of his cymbals, and then at toji, who’s playing it cool but can’t hide the smirk tugging at his mouth. sukuna’s nursing his guitar, strings humming, eyes locked on yours despite the other thousand people infront of him.
you toss him a smile, grabbing the mic with both hands, leaning into the heat of it as the crowd quietens.
“you’ve been fucking insane tonight,” you breathe, voice raw but charged. the roar that comes back nearly knocks you off balance.
“that’s what i’m talking about,” you laugh, dizzy with the high. “tempt and revolt loves you. every single one of you. thank you for being here, thank you for screaming with us, thank you for sweating with us. we see you.”
the crowd explodes. phones wave in the air, lights strobing across faces twisted with joy.
"this was our last show of the tour, and i just want to say how incredibly special this performance was to me, to us. i really can't thank you enough for being such an amazing crowd." the drawback was even louder than before, like every single person was cheering with their entire being.
"god she's such a sap." sukuna interrupted, coming up behind you with his own mic, shaking an arm around your waist. you laugh and so does the crowd, but before he could crack another joke, a fan in the front row screams out the one thing you had been begging not to hear tonight.
"y/n! is it true you and toji used to hook up!?"
...
silence.
from you, at least.
the rest of the stadium blew up with 'ooo's', and 'oh shit''s. you could feel your cheeks heat up,
this wasn't supposed to happen.
you awkwardly cleaned your throat into the mic as sukuna shifted uncomfortably in his place, his arm dropping from your side. recently in the media, all anyone was talking about was how it had come to light that an old friend from your early band days had exposed you and toji's dirty little secret.
and yeah, you fucked.
but it wasn’t love with toji. it was sweat and impulse, youth and recklessness. back then the band was in dingy garages after you'd all decided to drop out of college, half- empty bars, crashing on floors, barely enough cash for food. you and toji were two restless bodies orbiting each other, all hunger and zero promises.
he’d drag you into bathrooms between sets, chain cold against your chest while he pressed you to tiles. rough, greedy, leaving you raw and shaking, still coming back.
“well... it wasn’t like we were hiding it,” toji says, suddenly into his stage mic, and oh god, the fans erupted. you and sukuna both whipped your heads around to see him smirking shirtless into the mic, stepping up to the front of the stage to address the fans.
"i mean, look at her." he gestures you you can the fans go wild.
"everyone wanted her then, and they all want her now, lucky me just got there first." he joked, and the crowd ate it the fuck up. you were sure some even fainted at the revelation.
you looked around helplessly as sukuna stalked towards toji, throwing an arm around his neck a little too rough, taking the mic from his hand. "this guy talks way too much am i right?"
the fans laughed, taking this all as some lighthearted banter, but you could tell, sukuna was about to snap. ever since tempt and revolt got big, your manager, nanami, always reminded you to never speak about your past encounters with toji, said it would complicate things, and now he was up here airing out your dirty laundry to a stadium of over two thousand people.
real professional.
behind you, choso was making a cut throat action to the producers on set to finally put a stop to this moment, but toji just kept on going.
"i think lover boy over here's just jealous i had her screaming before he did." he smirked.
you had never wanted to curl up and die more than you did right now. not knowing what to do, and seeing sukuna getting visibly more pissed with each word out of tojis big mouth, you did the only thing you could.
"okay guys! tonight was so amazing but it's time for us to go. thank you for being such an electric crowd tonight! this was the tempt and revolts 'wreck me tour' we hope you enjoyed!"
you waved your final goodbyes and swiftly walked off stage despite the uproar from the crowd, the band followed suit after saying their last stage send off's, choso threw his drum sticks into the crowd to try and distract them from the sudden and incomplete ending to the show, blowing them kisses as he winked to really get them going.
you ran right into the greenroom where nanami stood with a look of utter disbelief etched into his face, looking past you, right at toji with the scariest scowl you had ever seen.
.
"what the actual fuck was that?!" the blonde snapped.
you usually hated nanami when he was angry and yelling, but right now? you were right there with him.
"we promised to keep that shit a secret toji! i'm not some stage puppet you can use to make yourself look better!" you clipped.
you had half a mind to slap him across his big ugly face, but you restrained, choso grabbing your shoulder before you could get any closer to the towering man. "c'mon y/n, calm down a sec babe."
sukuna on the other hand, he had long since grabbed toji's shoulder and backed him harsh up against the nearest wall.
"i'm gonna kill you, you think that little comment was funny, huh?"
before he could ring his neck, the security guard on duty in the green room pulled them apart. this gave toji some time to taunt before nanami could lecture him.
“can you all chill the fuck out? the fans swallow it up like gospel." he stretches out his arms with a shit eating smirk. "hey, maybe i should do a podcast, hm? 'confessions of a bassist.' tell ‘em all about our little secrets.”
your jaw tightens. “you're such a dick! no one wants to hear your shitty two cents.”
“nah,” he says, low and amused, glancing between you and sukuna with a bored look, “they’d line up for it. you should see the dms i get begging me to spill, half of ‘em wanna know what it was like to fuck you, the other wanna know if i still am.”
the room stills.
sukuna’s head turns, slow, sharp, eyes locked on him. his breath is steady, but there’s nothing calm about the way his jaw ticks.
choso mutters a curse under his breath, shifting like he’s about to intervene, but nanami steps in before you can retort.
"that's enough. your behaviour was absolutely disgusting, you have no fucking idea how much of a job this clean up is gonna be, toji. you're almost as problematic as that pop singer gojo and his little boy band. it's embarrassing."
the accused just rolls his eyes with a scoff, pulling at his studded cuffs.
"god! i pick you assholes up out if shitty bar gigs, make you famous, line your damn pockets with gold and this is how you repay me? for christ sake i need a career change!"
.
the night ends with nanami still snapping at toji, but you don’t stay long enough to hear the rest. you’re already shoving your heavy leather jacket on, slipping past the scowl on your managers face, ignoring the way the venue crew are whispering.
your pulse is still hammering like you’re on stage, except it’s not adrenaline now, it’s dread. sukuna follows with a reassuring hand on your lower back, keeping you close as your navigate through the back stage hallways.
you keep your head down, but you can still hear it. the crowd outside, scattered, buzzing, already alive with speculation. someone’s probably tweeting in real time, uploading shaky videos of what just went down.
sukuna’s black mercedes truck is waiting out back, gleaming, hulking like him, tinted windows hiding you from the frenzy. he pulls his guitar off his shoulders and lays it down in the boot, then opens the passenger door for you, jerking his chin at you. get in.
you do.
the leather is cold against your thighs, the smell of him clinging to the seats, smoke, sweat, faint aftershave. he slams the door shut and stalks around to the driver’s side.
choso slides into the back, quiet for once, drumsticks gone, hair coming loose in strands that cling to his temple.
toji takes his sweet time, climbing in last, bass slung across his back like a shield, smirk still curling his mouth even though the tension is thick enough to choke on.
nobody speaks as sukuna pulls onto the street.
the city rushes by in streaks of light, windows fogging with your collective breath. your phone buzzes nonstop in your hand, notifications stacking so fast the screen lags. you open one out of instinct and regret it instantly, headlines already stamped bold across your feed.
'lead singer y/n’s past exposed live on stage by bassist toji fushiguro.'
'is tempt and revolt breaking apart? fans react to shocking confession.'
'was the chemistry with sukuna fake all along? was it always toji behind closed doors?'
your throat tightens. you can’t stop scrolling. it’s a freefall, you, center stage, your face frozen in clips mid-reaction, eyes wide, lips parted like you’ve been caught in the act. some fans are defending you, screaming about boundaries, others are dissecting every old video, pausing on every look you ever gave toji like it was evidence.
sukuna’s fingers tighten around your thigh. not painful, just firm, a silent command. breathe.
you glance sideways at him. his jaw’s locked tight, eyes fixed on the road, tattoos shifting over muscle as his grip on the wheel flexes. he looks like he’s one second from pulling over and tearing the whole world apart. but that hand stays steady, burning into your skin, holding you still.
choso leans his head back against the seat with a sigh that fogs the window. his voice comes soft, low, not directed at anyone. “fuck, man. this is all anyone's gonna talk about for months, why'd you go and do it when we have an album to release.”
no one answers.
you catch toji’s reflection in the side mirror. he’s sprawled out like he hasn’t got a care in the world, wrist draped over the door, eyes on the city lights. but his jaw ticks when he thinks no one’s looking, his smirk wobbling at the edges.
your chest aches with something you can’t name. rage, embarrassment, fear. you snap the phone shut in your palm and press it hard against your thigh, leaning into sukuna’s hand like you can absorb some of his steadiness.
the silence is crushing. every second that ticks by, it feels heavier. you can hear the hum of the engine, the rattle of something in the back, the low bass of the city outside.
finally choso mutters, “wish i could’ve stopped it sooner.”
you turn slightly, catching him in the rearview. he’s got his hands over his face now, fingers dragging down, eyeliner smearing worse. he looks exhausted, guilty.
“wasn’t your job,” sukuna says at last, his voice gravel in the dark. “was his.” his eyes flick once to toji in the mirror, sharp enough to cut.
toji doesn’t bite. just chuckles low, like it’s all beneath him. “press is probably already writing about it. good for publicity.”
you whip around in your seat, glare slicing into him. “good for publicity? you humiliated me in front of two thousand people.”
“relax, sweetheart,” he says, smirk flashing in the dark. “you’ll survive.”
the truck jerks as sukuna’s hand twitches on the wheel. his knuckles go white.
you’re two seconds from snapping back when choso cuts in, his voice sharper than usual. “toji, just shut the fuck up. for once.”
the backseat goes quiet again.
sukuna exhales through his nose, a slow, dangerous sound. his hand slides higher on your thigh, thumb stroking slow circles, not for show but for you, a reminder he’s there, that he’s not letting this go.
the hotel looms into view at last, glass and steel, shining like it’s mocking you. you’ve stayed here a hundred times on tour when in this city, suites big enough to hold all four of you, but tonight it feels like a cage waiting to close.
the valet stares when sukuna pulls up, wide-eyed like he recognizes the truck. you don’t wait. you push the door open, heavy black boots clumping against pavement, the night air hitting you cold.
.
the doors slide open, the suite is massive, marble floors and floor-to-ceiling windows, couches too big to fill. but the second the door clicks shut behind you, the silence swells again, thick, choking.
your phone buzzes again. sukuna plucks it out of your hand before you can look.
“that's enough, y/n,” he says, voice low, final.
you swallow, throat dry, pulse still stuttering. his eyes pin you, softer now, that steady fire that only he gives you. his hand comes up to your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek once before dropping away.
yet, you don’t wait for the rest of them to settle in. the second the suite door clicks shut behind choso, you grab your phone back and stalk through the golden-lit living room, past the velvet couches and polished bar cart, straight toward the bedroom wing.
“c'mon babe-” toji starts, voice lilting, all teeth and false charm.
you spin on your heel so fast he actually stumbles a step back. your voice is razor-sharp, clear even though your throat burns.
“don’t. just shut the fuck up, toji. don’t speak to me. not tonight.”
the words drop like knives.
his smirk falters for a breath before he laughs low, rough, forcing it back onto his face. “alright, sweetheart. message received.” he holds his hands up like he’s harmless, like he hasn’t just gutted you in front of thousands.
you glare one last time, then slam the bedroom door behind you.
the silence that follows is thick, suffocating. only the muted hum of the city filters through the glass walls.
sukuna is still standing where you left him, fists clenched at his sides, every vein in his forearms threatening to split.
toji stretches his long legs out, still acting casual. choso sinks into the couch across from him, hunched over, elbows on his knees, hair falling forward.
...
“she’ll cool off,” toji mutters, leaning back, draping an arm over the chair like he owns it.
sukuna’s head snaps toward him, eyes like knives. “you don’t get it.” his voice is low, guttural. “you don’t get what you just did to her.”
toji scoffs, rolling his shoulders. “what, told the truth? everyone’s so damn sensitive. fans eat this shit up-”
“shut up.” choso’s voice cuts sharp, surprising them both. he drags a hand down his face, smearing even more eyeliner, dark eyes hard. “seriously, shut the fuck up, toji. no one’s defending you right now.”
for once, toji’s mouth closes.
sukuna steps forward, slow, deliberate, until he’s towering over the armchair. his shadow swallows toji whole. “if you were anyone else,” he growls, “i’d have had my hands around your throat the second you opened your mouth on that stage. i don’t care if it made the crowd scream. i don’t care if it trends. you humiliated her. you humiliated the band.”
toji leans his head back against the chair, smirk twitching like he can’t decide whether to hold it or let it drop. “ryo-”
“don’t,” sukuna snaps, voice like a whip. “don’t fucking call me that right now.”
the room goes still.
toji exhales slow, the bravado bleeding at the edges. “alright. i get it. i pushed too far.”
choso barks out a laugh that isn’t amused. “too far? you aired out shit you swore you’d keep buried. we all agreed, band’s private life stays private. and then you go and pull that in front of thousands.” he shakes his head, disgust rolling off him. “do you even realize how shitty that is?”
toji’s jaw ticks. his smirk finally slips, leaving something harder, older, underneath. “yeah. i realize. fuck.” he scrubs a hand over his face, suddenly looking his age. “i wasn’t thinking. thought it’d be a joke, thought the fans would-”
“the fans don’t matter,” sukuna bites out. “y/n does. and you made her feel like nothing but a headline.”
toji stares at the floor. his throat works, but no words come for a long moment. when he finally speaks, it’s quieter. “you’re right.”
the admission hangs heavy, foreign on his tongue.
“i fucked up. i shouldn’t have said it. shouldn’t have said any of it. not on stage. not ever.” he looks up at them, and for once there’s no smugness, no shield. just something raw. “i’m sorry.”
the silence that follows isn’t forgiving. it’s wary, weighted.
choso leans back, running both hands through his hair, tugging hard enough to sting. “you better be. because i don’t know how the hell we fix this. the new album drops in two months. press tours, interviews, promo shoots, how the fuck are we supposed to shine light on that when everyone's too focused on this bullshit?”
toji’s mouth opens, then shuts again.
sukuna finally moves, pacing toward the window, fists buried in his pockets. the city glitters outside, oblivious to the war in the room. “we can’t pretend,” he says flat. “they’ll chew us out if we act like nothing happened.” he turns, gaze cutting sharp between the two of them. “we’ll have to spin it. somehow.”
“nanami’s already losing his mind,” choso mutters. “he’ll probably ban us from speaking to press for a month.”
“good,” sukuna says. “less chances for him to open his mouth again.” his eyes slice to toji.
toji meets it, steady now, the weight of the mess finally settling on his shoulders. “i said i’m sorry,” he repeats, voice firmer this time. “i'll… fix it. somehow.”
“you can’t fix it,” sukuna growls. “not alone. you just make sure you don’t make it worse.”
toji nods once, jaw tight.
the silence that follows is different. not forgiving, not yet, but less lethal. the storm’s eye, the part where you breathe before it starts again.
choso rubs his temples, exhaling long. “fuck, man. tonight was supposed to be a celebration. end of tour, new album on the horizon.” he drops his hands, glances at sukuna. “instead we’re here cleaning up another mess.”
sukuna doesn’t answer. his eyes flick toward the closed bedroom door, the one you disappeared behind.
choso notices. his voice softens. “she’s not okay, you know.”
sukuna’s jaw tightens. “i know.”
“you should go to her.”
sukuna’s head snaps around, eyes narrowing.
“what?” choso shrugs, leaning back into the couch cushions. “you’re the only one she’ll actually let in right now. she trusts you. more than anyone.”
sukuna looks away, throat working.
toji shifts in his chair, uncomfortable, but doesn’t argue.
the air settles. the decision is obvious.
sukuna finally pushes off the window, heading for the bedroom wing. his steps are heavy, deliberate, every muscle in his body still humming with restraint. his hand hovers on the door handle for a second, the muffled silence of your room pressing against his palm.
behind him, the suite is quiet. choso watching with tired eyes, toji staring at the floor, the city burning outside the glass.
and then sukuna pushes the door open, stepping into the dark where you’ve been carrying all the weight alone.
the bedroom is gloomy when he steps inside, lit only by the thin glow of the outside lights shining through the curtains. it takes a second for his eyes to adjust, but he doesn’t need them to find you. he can hear you, the shaky sound of your breathing, the restless shuffle of fabric as you pace near the bed.
you freeze when the door clicks shut.
“go away,” you whisper, though it’s not sharp, not like it had been with toji. your voice cracks halfway through, frayed thin.
sukuna doesn’t move closer yet. he leans his back against the door, watching you through the dim. “i'm not going anywhere.”
your shoulders tense. you turn toward the window, arms wrapped tight around yourself, head bowed like you can fold in half and disappear.
“they’re tearing me apart already,” you mutter, voice rough. “every blog, every fan account, they’re-” your breath hitches, hands clenching into fists. “it’s everywhere.”
sukuna takes one step, then another, slow and deliberate, until he’s close enough for you to feel the heat rolling off him. his hand comes up, brushes against your elbow. you stiffen, then sag.
“let me see it,” he says. not a question.
you blink, confused.
“your phone.” he wiggles his fingers. “give it.”
you hesitate before handing it over. it buzzes twice in his palm before he hits the lock button and tosses it onto the bed like it’s nothing more than dead weight.
“don’t-” you start, reaching for it, but he catches your wrist.
“stop,” he says, low and steady, eyes pinning you. “that little box isn’t gonna fix anything. you staring at it all night? just lets ‘em win.”
your throat closes. you nod, barely.
sukuna’s thumb drags slow across the inside of your wrist before he lets go.
“come on,” he mutters, tilting his head toward the bathroom. “a shower’s gonna help.”
“i don’t-”
“don’t argue with me.” his voice cuts through the dark, calm but absolute. “you’re running on fumes. you’ll feel better after.”
your legs move before your brain agrees. sukuna steers you with a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the doorway into the marble-bright ensuite.
the space is warm, steam already clinging to the mirrors, he must’ve flipped it on before. he pulls a towel from the rack, tosses it onto the counter, then crouches to twist the handle until water thunders from the showerhead.
you stand frozen, hands limp at your sides.
he straightens, looks you over once, then steps closer. “arms up.”
your breath catches. “ryo-”
“it's just me,” he says, softer now, teasing edge curling around the words. “don’t act shy on me now. i’ve seen you naked ontop of me lots of times, okay?”
your lips twitch, but you lift your arms anyway.
his hands are careful as he pulls your black tank over your head. he works your skirt, garters, and stockings next, fingers brushing over your hips as he eases them down. when you’re left in underwear, you fold your arms across your chest, suddenly small.
you and sukuna slept together on occasion, when tension was high and emotions were higher, the type of fuck that left you fulfilled, but you'd never put a label on anything, the both of you choose to forget the next morning between whispered love.
his gaze lingers for a beat too long before he clears his throat as to not get too worked up since you were clearly not in that kind of mood. “go on. in you get.”
you slip your underwear off and move to the steady spray, the hot water crashing down, washing sweat and makeup and tension from your skin.
he waits until your shoulders unknot, until the shaking in your hands eases. “five more minutes. don’t prune up. i’m gettin’ the bed sorted.” he stated, stepping out quickly to let the tent in his pants settle.
by the time you step out, wrapped in a towel, the bedroom is dim again. the sheets are turned down, pillows piled, your phone sitting untouched on the nightstand.
sukuna is waiting by the bed, a white hotel robe draped over one massive hand.
“come here, pretty girl.” he says again, smirk tugging at his mouth.
you roll your eyes but obey, letting him wrap you in the soft fabric. his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he ties the belt loose around your waist, tugging it into place with a little flourish.
“there,” he mutters, satisfied. “fits like a glove, you look adorable.”
you huff a laugh, the first real one all night.
he grins, sharp and soft all at once, before stepping back toward the bathroom. “my turn. don’t run off.”
you grab his arm, "are you sure you don't want me to join... it's the least i could do for you taking such good care of me."
he just smiles, pushing past you and kissing your cheek. "i don't see you as just a prize for a good deed, y/n."
.
when he reappears, damp hair curling around his temples, towel slung low on his hips, showing off all of his sharp abs and tatoos. you flush despite yourself, and he smirks like he knows exactly what you're thinking.
“like what you see?” he teases, grabbing his own robe.
“shut up,” you mutter, turning away.
he chuckles low, tugging the robe on, tying it with a lazy knot. then he pads over, grabs your phone off the nightstand, and flips it facedown.
“no more of that tonight,” he says, sliding into bed beside you.
he tugs you in without asking, his arm sliding around your waist, his chest a wall of heat at your back. his chin drops to the top of your head and for a long moment, neither of you speak. just the steady thump of his heart under your ear, the soft drag of his thumb along your hip through the robe.
“talk to me,” he says finally, voice rough but coaxing.
your throat tightens. “ryo, they’re all going to think so badly of me. that i…” your voice breaks. “that i’m some slut who just moves from one bandmate to the next.”
sukuna stiffens against you.
“fuck what they think,” he says, sharp. “they don’t know shit. they see ten seconds on a stage and think it’s the irrevocable truth. they don’t know you.” his hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up so you meet his eyes. they’re burning, velvet red, soft only for you. “i do.” he kisses your nape tenderly.
you swallow hard. “but the album-”
“it'll be fine, we'll fix this up somehow.”
“what if the band-”
he snorts, low and amused. “please. you think i’d let this fall apart ‘cause toji can’t keep his mouth shut? nah. i’ll drag his ass through every interview myself if i have to.”
you huff a laugh, watery, against his chest.
“there it is,” he murmurs, lips brushing the crown of your head. “knew i’d get that laugh back.”
you close your eyes, sinking deeper into him, the exhaustion finally pulling at your bones.
“you’re too good to me,” you whisper.
his chest rumbles with a chuckle. “don’t spread that around. gotta keep my reputation.”
you smile against him, small but real.
his hand slides up your spine, slow, soothing, pressing you closer. “get some sleep, baby. i’ve got you.”
and you believe him. for once, you let the world burn outside. you let the headlines scream without you. you let yourself rest, held in the arms of the only person who makes you feel untouchable, despite not being his. not fully.
~
nanami lays it out the morning after. slanting up to the hotel room coffee in hand, glasses low on his nose, he looks at all of you like he’s choosing who to strangle first.
“not a word to the press,” he says flatly. “not a glance, not a slip, not a clever comment. i don’t care how charming you think you are. radio silence until i say otherwise.”
you nod. choso salutes with his breakfast spoon. sukuna smirks like he’s itching to argue, but one glare from nanami shuts him down. toji only hums, eyes on his plate, the picture of indifference.
that’s week one: silence while you traveled back to your home town.
the band moves like ghosts through airports and venues. sunglasses indoors, hoodies pulled low. no interviews, no off-the-cuff soundbites, just music and the echoing roar of fans who don’t know how close things came to breaking.
choso fills the downtime with sunshine and noise. he finds skateparks in every city, drags you along until sukuna glares and you bail, then he posts blurry photos of sunsets and ramen bowls to his socials, pretending nothing is wrong.
toji disappears into hotel gyms. he lifts until his arms tremble, until sweat soaks through his shirts. it’s penance, maybe, or maybe just distraction. when he surfaces, he’s quieter than usual, mouth twitching when he almost makes a joke but swallows it back.
sukuna… he stays with you.
he drags you out of bed for midnight walks through empty streets, buys cheap wine from corner stores, makes you laugh until you’re breathless, fucks you mindless when the thoughts get too much. he sits with you through bad tv, through silence, through nights where the headlines still claw at your chest. he never lets you spiral alone.
“don’t look at that shit,” he mutters when your phone lights up. “look at me instead.”
and you do.
by the second week, the sharp edges dull. the band is holding together by muscle memory.
then comes the apology.
toji corners you one night after a quick rehearsal to keep the sounds sharp, jaw tight, eyes somewhere over your shoulder.
“i fucked up,” he says simply. “shouldn’t have said what i said, okay. shouldn’t have dragged you like that. i’m… sorry.”
you want to bite, to spit something cruel, but you don’t. the exhaustion is bone-deep. instead you stare at him until he looks back, until you see the flicker of something real behind the calm.
“don’t do it again,” you say, voice hard.
“wasn’t planning on it,” he mutters, then forces a laugh. it dies quick in his throat. you sigh and give him a small hug, "it's all goods. i forgive you."
he smirks and hugs you back tighter, "couldn't let my recklessness ruin this. you're my favourite girl y'know." he teases.
"can you just shut up toji."
he chuckles into your hair.
little did you know, a tall brooding figure watched over from around the corner, scoffing with jealousy as he stared daggers through tojis head.
~
two weeks bleed past. the press is restless, fans louder than ever, rumors multiplying like wildfire. but the band is still here. you’re still here.
and sukuna hasn’t left your side once.
the city feels different when it’s your city.
the skyline that once looked untouchable presses close through the glass walls of sukuna’s penthouse, a space too big for one man but perfect for the four of you to crash into after weeks on the road.
you’re half-curled on the couch, legs tucked under you, head pressed against the armrest. sukuna sits right beside you, thigh brushing yours every time he shifts, a presence so heavy and warm it feels more like armor than comfort.
choso is draped across the other couch with a bag of chips, and toji’s sprawled in an armchair, balancing his phone on his stomach as if he can’t even be bothered to hold it up.
the tv is on just for noise. some music show rerun. flashing lights, studio audience screaming. you’re not even watching, until a familiar voice cuts through the chatter.
“wait,” choso says, chip halfway to his mouth. “is that… satoru?”
your head snaps up.
yeah. it’s him.
satoru gojo, center stage in a glossy studio chair, legs crossed at the knee, laughing like the world itself is in love with him. platinum hair falling perfect into his eyes, smile white and blinding, a silk shirt half-unbuttoned like he’s never known shame.
and the crowd does love him. screaming, swooning, eating from his palm.
“for fucks sake.” toji mutters. “that guys everywhere now, almost as big as us.”
“almost?” sukuna scoffs, leaning forward, tattoos shifting with the motion. “he’s everywhere. charts, tv, endorsements. guy probably has his face on billboards in tokyo.”
"well, so do we it's not like he's that much bigger." choso adds.
you can’t look away. it’s surreal, seeing him like this. you remember the classroom instead: messy desks, the smell of cheap coffee, gojo leaning back in his chair with his guitar across his lap, cracking jokes while professors rolled their eyes. you all used to skip lectures together. smoke breaks on the back steps. nights when he’d tag along to gigs just to watch, grinning wide under stage lights.
and then he got signed.
gojo didn’t drop out with you. he stayed. got scouted. while tempt and revolt were grinding in garages and shitty bars, he was being polished into a star. and now here he is, glowing on tv.
“he looks the same,” you murmur before you can stop yourself.
“yeah,” sukuna says, tone unreadable. “same cocky prick.”
the interviewer’s voice cuts in, smooth and prim: “gojo, you’ve been climbing the charts nonstop this year. fans adore you, critics praise your vocal range, and your boy band ‘six eyes’ is selling out arenas worldwide. how does it feel to be at the top of the pop game?”
gojo leans forward, grinning. “honestly? feels overdue. i told everyone back in college i was gonna do this. guess i was right.”
the audience screams.
“jesus christ,” choso mutters, rolling his eyes.
“shh,” sukuna growls. “let it play.”
the segment rolls on, talk about tour dates, album sales, brand deals, but you can feel something brewing. the interviewer’s smile sharpens like a blade.
and then it comes.
“now, satoru,” she says, tone casual, almost too casual. “i have to ask. you studied music with some very famous faces before you debuted. tempt and revolt, for example. the band is in the news right now for some… controversy.”
your stomach drops.
gojo tilts his head, feigning innocence. “oh? the toji and n/n thing?”
the room goes still.
“fuck,” choso whispers.
the interviewer leans in. “so you have heard about it. what can you tell us?”
gojo laughs, slow and easy. “what can’t i tell you?” he says, eyes glittering.
your blood goes cold.
he launches in like he’s been waiting for the invitation.
“look, we all went to the same collage. we all knew each other. toji and y/n? not exactly subtle. half the course knew they were hooking up. they’d disappear for whole nights, come back looking wrecked, pretend nothing happened. nobody bought it. they weren’t hiding shit.”
the crowd gasps, eats it up like candy.
“he’s lying,” you whisper, throat dry. “he’s fucking exaggerating-”
but he keeps going.
“and it wasn’t just a fling, not at first. they were… intense. fights in practice rooms, making up in bathrooms. it was kind of legendary, honestly. everyone was waiting for it to blow up. and when it did? oh, it was ugly.”
toji sits up, eyes narrowed. “that little-”
“shut up,” sukuna snaps. his hand lands heavy on your thigh, grounding you even as your pulse spikes.
the interviewer looks delighted. “so you’re saying the rumors are true?"
“more than true,” gojo says smoothly. “if anything, the rumors are tame. those two burned hot, burned fast, and left nothing but ash. i was there. i saw it. y/n and toji-"
click.
the tv goes black. sukuna’s thumb is still pressed to the remote, jaw locked so tight you can hear the grind of his teeth.
silence.
your hands are trembling. your phone buzzes on the coffee table, notifications piling in, headlines already forming, but you can’t bring yourself to pick it up.
“fuck,” choso mutters again, running a hand over his face.
toji leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the blank screen like he could punch through it. “he didn’t have to do that. he didn’t-”
“shut. up.” sukuna’s voice is low, lethal. “you don’t get to talk right now.”
toji glares back but says nothing.
sukuna’s hand is still on your thigh, fingers curling, not moving away. he looks at you finally, eyes sharp but soft at the edges where no one else can see.
“you okay?” he asks, voice low, just for you.
you shake your head. your chest feels caved in.
choso exhales, long and slow. “this is bad. this is really, really bad.”
bad doesn’t cover it.
gojo hadn’t just confirmed the scandal, he’d blown it wide open. painted it vivid for the world, added color where you’d tried so hard to keep things black-and-white. now it wasn’t just whispers or headlines. now it was real.
and you know the world is about to devour you for it.
(y'all know i had to throw some gojo in here, c'mon.)
.
half an hour later and sukuna is still sitting rigid on the couch, one arm around you, the other curled into a fist on the leather. choso lounges with the bag of chips forgotten at his side, eyes darting to the TV every few seconds as if he expects gojo to pop back on. toji sits forward in the armchair, fingers drumming on his knees, smirk gone, replaced with tight jawlines and twitching eyelids.
and then the phone buzzes.
nanami.
sukuna picks it up with a growl, pressing it to his ear.
“have you seen it?” nanami’s voice comes through, clipped, razor-sharp. even through the speaker, you can feel the fury vibrating.
sukuna exhales slowly. “we just did, all of us are at my place.”
“for fucks sake,” nanami snaps. “i just got off the phone with his PR manager. that little shit- i don’t even know why i bothered trying to reason with him. he’s insufferable, just like gojo. every sentence he spat was another finger poking a hole in our control over this mess.”
choso groans audibly.
“so,” sukuna says, jaw tight. “what now?”
“what now?” nanami echoes, voice tight with anger. “miguel, our pr manager, wants to have a meeting tommorow morning. we figure out how to get you four through this without having the press and fans devour you alive. this is going to be tricky. and i mean tricky, not like the usual ‘ignore a scandal and hope it dies’ trick. gojo made it public, detailed, and he’s smiling while the world hears about it. the narrative is already out there, you’re in damage control mode, whether you like it or not.”
you feel the squeeze of sukuna’s hand on your hip tighten.
“we’ll get through it,” he says, low, just for you.
nanami cuts in again, tone sharp as a knife. “i know ive said this already, but you guys have to listen carefully: no interviews. no statements. no fucking social media posts beyond what I authorize. i don’t care if you feel cornered, or humiliated, or like the world’s on fire. you follow me, step for step. got it?”
toji exhales, muttering, “yeah, yeah… got it.”
“sukuna, i mean everyone,” nanami continues. “i don’t want half-assed apologies or excuses. not to the press, not to fans. and don’t even think about confronting gojo directly. i don’t care if you want to strangle him, he’s untouchable right now. we play this smart, or this blows up worse than it already has.”
choso shakes his head, lips pressed tight. “so basically we sit on our hands and bleed quietly while the internet loses it.”
“basically,” nanami says, voice flat. “and yes, i will be calling every outlet that picks this up, every social media account that reposts it. i’ve got half a dozen people on it already. but you four? you do not make it worse. period.”
there’s a beat of silence.
you rest your head against sukuna’s shoulder. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring, “we’ve survived worse.”
nanami sighs. “and we have to act fast. PR is tricky here because gojo wasn’t just a casual acquaintance, he was there. he saw it. he knows details, stories the fans can’t even imagine, and he’s selling it like a performance. so we spin it carefully, or we look like idiots. got it?”
“we got it,” sukuna says, tone flat but controlled.
“good,” nanami snaps, “because if you screw this up, i swear i’ll-” he stops, cuts himself off, probably realizing yelling more won’t help. “just… follow instructions. no off-the-cuff comments, no nothing. stay in the penthouse until i give the signal. understand?”
“understood,” choso and sukuna reply in unison.
you just nod against sukuna, feeling the weight of his arm around you, the only shield in a world that suddenly seems impossibly loud.
nanami grunts. “i’m going to start coordinating. phones off unless i call. keep your heads down. and for fuck’s sake, don’t do anything stupid. meet at the record label tommorow 10am.”
the line clicks dead, leaving a silence heavy enough to press your chest flat.
toji leans back, shaking his head. “so… that’s it. we just sit here and… stew?”
sukuna’s gaze snaps to him, hand tightening on your waist. “we don’t stew. we survive. understand?”
toji raises his hands in surrender. “yeah, yeah. no stress, got it.”
choso rolls his eyes. “survive. that’s comforting.”
you let out a shaky laugh, finally, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. sukuna shifts so he can wrap both arms around you, pressing his chest to your back. you can feel the heat of him, the slow heartbeat beneath your ribs.
“we’ll get through this,” he murmurs again. “we always do. nothing, gojo, PR disasters, stupid fans, nothin’ breaks us.”
"yeah, right."
~
the record label’s conference room is all glass and chrome, the city skyline stretching out behind floor-to-ceiling windows.
you hate it immediately, too open, too exposed, like someone could press their face to the glass and watch every twitch of your expression.
miguel is already waiting when the four of you walk in, perched on the edge of the polished oak table like it’s a runway. tight trousers, a floral silk shirt unbuttoned just low enough to scandalize, rings glinting on every finger. he stands out against the stiff, corporate blandness of the room like paint on a blank canvas.
“finally,” he says, throwing his arms wide, voice lilting and dramatic. “my favorite disasters. come in, come in, sit down, don’t make me beg, i’m too fabulous for that.”
sukuna grunts under his breath and pulls a chair out for you anyway, guiding you down before taking the seat beside you. choso slumps into his chair like he’s about to nap through the apocalypse. toji hangs back a second, scanning the room like it might bite, before settling across from you.
miguel claps his hands once, sharp, commanding. “so. yesterday.” his smile is blinding, but his eyes are all calculation. “that white-haired menace with a god complex decided to drop a nuclear bomb on live television. and now? we are in crisis.”
“we know,” sukuna mutters. miguel waves a hand, dismissive. “no, darling, you think you know. but i have been in three separate war rooms since last night. nanami, his ulcer, and i, brainstorming, calculating. and what i have for you today?” he leans forward, grin widening. “it’s bold. it’s dangerous. and it’s the only thing that will save your beautiful, messy little band.” the room goes still.
“exactly,” miguel says, voice sing-song. “the internet already believes in this delicious little scandal. they’re eating it up, hashtags, edits, tweets, stan wars. we can’t bury it. we can’t out-scream gojo. but we can flip the narrative.” he pauses, milking the silence like a pro. “we give them what they want.”
your stomach sinks. “what does that mean?” miguel swivels toward you and toji, eyes glittering. “it means… you two.” he points between you with a flourish. “a relationship. public, messy, passionate, whatever flavor sells best. we manufacture it, we control it, and we drown gojo’s noise with our own story. instead of being victims of his little truth bomb, you become the stars of the drama. headlines bend to you.” dead silence.
your jaw goes slack. sukuna goes rigid beside you, muscles coiling like he’s ready to lunge across the table. choso blinks once, twice, as though processing takes physical effort. and toji, he actually barks out a laugh, though there’s no humor in it.
“you want us to… fake date?” you ask slowly, because maybe you hallucinated it. “yes, darling.” miguel beams. “isn’t it delicious? the tension, the angst, the history. fans will lose their tiny minds. and more importantly, the press will focus on your supposed romance instead of tearing apart your band’s credibility. it’s perfect.”
“perfect?” sukuna’s voice is a growl. “are you out of your mind?” miguel doesn’t even flinch. “oh, big scary sukuna, put your claws away. i’m not suggesting a marriage license. just a story, a narrative. a little pda here, a couple photos there. let the world believe what it already wants to. in six months, we can stage a tasteful breakup, release a heartbreak song, sell out stadiums. it’s pr gold.”
choso leans forward, tone sharp. “so you’re telling me the only way out of this is turning them into a circus act.”
“not a circus,” miguel corrects primly. “a spectacle. there’s a difference. circuses are tacky. spectacles sell.”
you feel heat creeping up your neck, part anger, part dread. “and if i don’t want to?” miguel tilts his head, softening his smile just a fraction. “then you don’t. i’m not nanami, i don’t bark orders. but, darling, the wolves are at the door. they’re not just sniffing, you’re bleeding, and they smell it. this buys you time. it buys you control. it buys you choice.”
toji finally speaks, voice rough. “and what do i get out of it?” miguel smirks. “redemption, sweet cheeks. you think the fans like you right now? you’re the villain. the home-wrecking, stage-wrecking, loud-mouthed disaster man. but if you’re in a tragic, passionate romance? suddenly you’re not the villain, you’re the anti-hero. people eat that shit up.”
toji’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t argue.
sukuna slams a hand on the table, making the water glasses jump. “this is bullshit.”
“it’s survival,” miguel shoots back, sharp now, the camp gone from his voice for just a moment. “you want to tank the album before it even drops? you want sponsors pulling out, venues canceling dates? because that’s what’s on the line if you don’t get ahead of this. your art dies on the vine. you’re too talented for that.”
the room throbs with silence again.
miguel straightens, composure slipping back into place like a mask.
“look. i know it’s not ideal. i know it’s messy. but it’s also brilliant. lean into the chaos, and you control it. run from it, and it controls you.” he slides a neat stack of papers across the table, mock-ups of headlines, fake paparazzi shots, hashtags trending overnight.
“think about it,” he says softly, finally. “you don’t have to say yes right now. but tomorrow? the press is going to demand blood. give them a romance instead.” he winks, then flops back into his chair, folding his hands in his lap as though the fate of the band isn’t balanced on your answer.
"we'll do it."
.
the penthouse is quiet when you pile back in, the kind of quiet that doesn’t soothe but hums sharp beneath your skin. city lights spill through the windows, throwing long streaks of light across the polished floor. the four of you move automatically into the living room, shedding jackets, bags, instruments, but the air feels weighted, like everyone’s still carrying miguel’s words pressed heavy against their backs.
you sink into the couch first, pulling your knees up to your chest, and before you even blink sukuna drops down beside you, thigh pressed to yours, arm sliding behind you across the back cushions. it’s not casual, it’s a claim. his gaze cuts across the room toward toji like a dare.
choso slumps into his usual corner, legs stretched out, hair half falling from its tie. he’s quiet, chewing on his lip, tapping out some absent rhythm on his thigh. his eyes keep flicking between you and sukuna, then to toji, like he’s bracing himself for impact.
toji doesn’t sit right away. he stands there with his hands on his hips, jaw flexing, shoulders tight like he’s stuck between lighting another blunt and walking straight back out the door. finally he lowers himself into the armchair opposite you, elbows braced on his knees. his eyes find yours, then snap to sukuna’s arm curling closer behind you.
“we’re doing this,” sukuna snaps back before you can even open your mouth. his fingers brush your shoulder, deliberately slow. “but it’s not some free pass for you to play the clown again. you treat this seriously, or i’ll bury you before the press ever can.”
toji exhales hard, rubbing a hand down his face. “i get it.” he leans back, eyes flicking to you once more, softer this time. “i’m not looking to make shit worse, alright? i’ll play it your way.”
“it’s not his way,” choso cuts in, sharp. “it’s all our asses on the line. miguel wasn’t joking about the album tanking and investors pulling out if this goes bad.” he shifts forward, elbows on his knees. “so we keep it tight. no slip-ups. no freelancing.”
toji snorts. “you think i don’t know that?”
“i don’t think you do,” sukuna growls, low and dangerous. his hand drops from the couch to your hip now, squeezing hard enough that it’s more warning than comfort. “this isn’t a joke. you don’t touch her, you don’t talk slick to her, you don’t even fucking breathe too close unless it’s rehearsed. clear?”
your stomach twists, heat burning your cheeks, but you don’t say anything. toji’s eyes flick to you again, linger just a second, and then he nods, slow, grudging. “clear.”
choso lets out a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “fuck. this is gonna be a circus.”
“a controlled circus,” sukuna says, voice like steel. “miguel wants a spectacle, fine. but we’re not letting this spiral. if we’re doing this, we keep y/n safe.” his hand tightens once more on your hip, anchoring you to him like he’s daring anyone in the room to argue.
toji looks away, jaw ticking. “wasn’t planning on hurting her.”
“you already did,” sukuna spits, the words like knives.
the silence that follows is heavy, pressing, broken only by the hum of the city outside. you tuck closer into sukuna’s side without thinking, his heat steady against you, grounding.
choso sighs, leaning back again, head tipped against the cushion. “alright. then it’s settled. we play the game, we don’t fuck it up, and we live long enough to drop the album.”
“and after that,” sukuna says, voice low, his mouth close to your ear, “we make sure no one ever drags her name through the mud again.”
you close your eyes, breathing him in, while across the room toji sits rigid, hands fisted on his knees, and choso drums his fingers against his thigh like a ticking clock counting down.
"it'll all be okay guys, let's not get so tense ok. gojo did a real shitty thing, all we need to do is fix it and we'll be sweet for the album release. we can do this."
choso chuckles. "you really are such a sap."
~
week one is the photo ops, and miguel doesn’t waste time.
day one, you and toji step out of a restaurant neither of you actually ate at, hand in hand, flashes exploding like gunfire. he holds the door, flashes that lazy grin, and leans in just enough to make it look like he’s whispering something filthy in your ear. in reality, he mutters, “don’t strangle me.”
the next morning, headlines scream: TEMPT AND REVOLT’S Y/N AND TOJI CONFIRMED ROMANCE?
by day three, there’s a coffee run. you and toji walking out of some overpriced place with matching cups, both in sunglasses, both stone-faced. fans online split into factions instantly. one tweet with 200k likes reads: 'i can’t believe i’m saying this but… they look hot together.' another says: 'betrayal. i was rooting for her and sukuna. delete this.'
miguel sends screenshots of the trending hashtags at 10pm. #tojiandyn, #temptedbytoji, #y/nl/n, and the worst one of all: #sukunathesidepiece.
through it all, said man barely says a word. at shoots, at rehearsals, at the penthouse, he keeps you close, but his touch is tighter, his silence heavier. when the cameras are gone, his sarcasm sharpens into something edged. “you looked real cozy with him today,” he says one night, voice flat. “should i start practicing my fake smile too?”
you don’t answer, because you don’t know how. so instead of getting your frustration out with a night of ryomen, you stewed in the tension.
week two is the socials. miguel orchestrates the whole thing.
toji’s instagram posts first: a candid of you smiling up at him with those big wide eyes, his caption reading: she makes it worth it.
the internet combusts. comments pour in, half in swooning caps, half in vomit emojis. one fan writes, 'if this is PR i’m eating it up anyway.' another: 'sukunas punching the wall rn.'
your own account stays silent, just carefully timed reposts of official band shots. sukuna doesn’t post at all. his last photo is still you, passed out on his couch from weeks ago, captioned simply: home.
little did anyone know it was after a long night of passion and intimacy, more real than anything toji could dream up.
fans start stitching it with toji’s post, screaming about “unspoken turf wars.”
miguel calls it perfect. “you don’t understand, the tension is selling. you’ve got the press hooked, the fans obsessed, the album pre-saves climbing again.”
but at night, in the penthouse, sukuna’s jaw ticks when you take your phone out, the muscle tightening under your fingers. it’s a warning you’ve felt before. the heat between you two, already thick from the tension of the day, snaps to something almost dangerous.
you glance at him, breath still ragged from your slow teasing earlier. “you okay?” you murmur, brushing a strand of hair from his sweaty forehead.
he growls low in his throat, pushing into you suddenly, hard enough to draw a moan from your throat. his hands grab your hips, chest pressing to yours, and you feel the familiar, aching swell of desire between your thighs. but there’s a storm behind his eyes, one that isn’t lust, it’s possessiveness, frustration, jealousy.
“i can’t,” he mutters, voice rough, low, almost painful. “i… i can’t focus right now.”
your brows knit together in confusion and teasing disbelief. “what do you mean you can’t? we’re alone, sukuna, your rules, your penthouse. you wanted to relax after all of this stress.”
he bites his bottom lip, gaze dark, hands gripping you tighter, rocking you against him just enough to make you shiver. “i can’t… not after today. seeing those posts, seeing him, he’s not even real,” his voice cracks slightly, the heat and anger mixing together in a way that leaves your core throbbing. “but it’s twisting me up.”
he shakes off the desire and hops up from his position over you on the bed, wrapping a robe around his shoulders and walking out of the room.
.
week three is the full performance.
paparazzi shots leak of you and toji outside the studio, his hand on your waist, your laugh caught mid-frame. they trend within minutes. miguel books you two for a joint radio interview, carefully scripted.
“so how’s it going?” the host grins, voice sticky sweet. “the fans are losing their minds.”
“it’s good,” you say, trained smile in place. “we’re really good.”
toji plays his part too, smirk in place, voice steady. “i guess people just love a little history, huh?”
the fans suck it up. gifs spread like wildfire, headlines multiply, and the story cements itself: the messy past turned passionate present. miguel beams like a man who just cheated death.
but when you scurry back to his apartment that night, sukuna isn’t waiting on the couch. he’s in his room, door half shut, guitar in his lap. the music is his own. sad, violent, tearing through the air like it’s the only thing keeping him from breaking something.
when you step inside, he doesn’t look up. “you’re getting real good at lying.”
it hits harder than the headlines, harder than the staged smiles.
the days blur after that. three weeks of hand-holding, fake laughs, magazine spreads, every glance dissected by millions of eyes. the band survives, the numbers climb, the press spins the narrative miguel promised.
but beneath it, the cracks deepen.
sukuna still holds you at night, but tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. he still makes you laugh, but his eyes stay sharp, searching, never softening like before.
choso avoids the tension, throwing himself into rehearsals and long walks, pretending not to see the way you and sukuna orbit closer and closer yet somehow feel further apart. toji keeps his distance, respectful, careful, but the weight of his presence is always there, the ghost of your history weaponized into a headline neither of you wanted.
three weeks, and the world believes the act. but behind the penthouse walls, you’re not sure how much longer you and sukuna can keep things civil.
.
the newest stunt comes on a friday night, perfectly timed. miguel calls it “organic,” but nothing about it feels anything like that.
you and toji step out of a nightclub downtown, the kind you’d only go to with your girl friends, bodyguards hovering just enough to let the paparazzi swarm. you’re dressed to kill, black sequins catching the flash, ripped stockings with chunky garters, and toji’s in all black dripping in expensive alternative jewellery. it’s all choreographed.
the cue is a stumble. the curb, your big boots, his steady hand on your waist. only this time, he doesn’t just steady you, he leans in, lips brushing your temple, eyes locked on the cameras like he knows exactly what they’ll make of it.
clickclickclick.
and by morning, the internet’s on fire.
a tabloid headline screams: Y/N AND TOJI: CLUB NIGHT CONFIRMATION?
another: SUPERSTAR Y/N AND BAD BOY TOJI SHARE INTIMATE MOMENT OUTSIDE VIP VENUE.
fans post screenshots, slowed-down clips, red circles around the exact second his lips touched your skin.
one tweet racks up half a million likes in minutes: the way he holds her like she’s HIS… i’m gonna be sick.
another: sukuna could never lmaoooo.
and worst of all, the hashtag: #tojioversukuna
miguel beams over brunch, saying it’s “the nail in the coffin of doubt.” you and toji look official, the fans are convinced, the story is watertight.
but sukuna hasn’t said a word since the photos dropped.
back at the penthouse that seemed like your shared home rather than just his, the silence cuts sharper than any silly headline. he’s sprawled on the couch, tattoos half-hidden by his tank, remote untouched on the coffee table. you step into the room, and he doesn’t even look up.
“so... you’ve seen it,” you say softly.
his jaw ticks. “i’ve seen it.”
"look ryo... miguel-”
“miguel,” he spits, finally meeting your eyes, they’re burning. “miguel says this, miguel says that. and you? you just go along with it. let toji touch you. let him kiss you. like it’s nothing.”
you flinch. “it wasn’t a real kiss.”
“doesn’t fucking matter what it was.” he’s on his feet now, looming, voice low and rough. “you think anyone’s looking at those pictures and thinking, ‘oh, that was staged’? no. they see him with his mouth on you and they believe it. they believe he owns you. and you let him.”
his hand curls into a fist at his side, veins straining.
“it’s apart of my job,” you bite out, sharper than you mean. “this is what we all agreed on. you heard nanami! we don’t get to just ignore it.”
sukuna laughs, humorless, jagged. “yeah. funny how it looks a hell of a lot like you're not acting anymore.”
the word slices through you. you step closer, desperate now. “don’t. don’t you dare say that. i’m doing this for us. for the band. for you!”
he shakes his head, eyes scanning your face like he doesn’t recognize it. “for me? that’s rich. because all i see is you in his arms. you in the headlines. you making the world believe he’s the one you want.”
your throat tightens. “and what about what i actually want!?”
his chest heaves, silent, furious.
you step closer still, fingers grazing his wrist, but he pulls back like your touch burns.
“you want me?” he rasps finally, broken in a way that makes your stomach twist. “then why the fuck does the whole world think it’s him?”
you don’t have an answer. not one that will fix this.
the silence is deafening. somewhere outside, horns blare, the city buzzing oblivious to the implosion inside this penthouse.
sukuna scrubs a hand over his face, shoulders rigid. “i can’t keep watching this,” he mutters, softer now, but no less raw. “i can’t keep seeing his hands on you and pretending it’s fine. i’m not built for that. i’m not built to share.”
your blood suddenly runs hot. anger surges, sharp enough to cut through the guilt that had been gnawing at your ribs all night. you step closer, fists clenching.
“share?” you bite out, voice rising. “what the fuck are you even talking about, sukuna? you don’t get to talk about how mad you are about sharing when you never made any sort of claim on me in the first place.”
his head snaps toward you, eyes narrowing.
“you never said we were together. you never put a label on us. not once. so don’t you dare stand there and make me feel like i betrayed you when you were too much of a coward to say what you wanted.”
his jaw tightens, but you keep going, the words spilling like gasoline on fire.
“you hold me after shows, you touch me like i’m yours, you make me feel like- like we’re something. but then what? nothing. silence. no promises, no sort of closure. just this… half-way bullshit! so if you’re jealous of my stupid fake relationship now, that’s on you, not me!"
he takes a step toward you, towering, but you don’t flinch. your chest heaves with the force of it, the frustration that’s been festering for months.
“you don’t want to share? then maybe you should’ve told me i was yours before the whole world decided to make me his.”
the room falls deadly quiet, the city hum bleeding in through the glass windows. sukuna stares at you, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and for once, he doesn’t have a quick comeback, doesn’t have a snarl or a tease. just silence.
your heart hammers, breath coming hard, and you realize this fight isn’t just about toji, or miguel, or a staged kiss. it’s about the truth you’ve both been running from, finally ripping through the seams.
your words hang heavy, sparking in the charged air between you. sukuna’s chest rises and falls, sharp, like he’s been holding back a storm too long.
then he laughs, low and bitter. “so that’s it, huh? because i didn’t slap a label on it, you get to let him put his hands on you? you get to let him kiss you in front of the whole goddamn world?”
you snap back instantly, fire licking your throat. “don’t twist this on me. i didn’t let him do shit. i played along because miguel shoved us into a corner and because you-” your voice cracks with the force of it- “you never gave me anything real to hold onto.”
sukuna steps closer, towering, tattoos flexing as his fists tighten at his sides. “don’t you fucking say i never gave you anything. i gave you everything. my time, my bed, my-” he cuts himself off, teeth grinding, like he’s biting back something too dangerous to say.
you glare up at him, heart slamming against your ribs. “but not your name. not once did you say i was yours. not once did you tell me you wanted me. so what the fuck was i supposed to think? that you just wanted someone to warm your sheets?”
his eyes blaze, wild and wounded all at once. “you think this is about sex? you think i’d be tearing myself apart over you if this was just about fucking? fuck, y/n.”
you stagger back a step, but he follows, crowding your space until your back hits the edge of the couch. he plants a hand on the armrest beside your head, trapping you there, his voice rough and low.
“i didn’t put a label on it because i thought you already knew. i thought it was obvious. you think i hold anyone else like i hold you? you think i lose sleep over anyone else the way i do with you? fuck the label- i thought you felt it. i thought you were mine without me having to carve it into your skin.”
your breath catches, fury colliding with something else, something fragile, terrifying. you want to scream at him, shove him away, but your body won’t move, caught in his gravity.
“well you thought wrong,” you snap, voice shaking now. “because while you were busy assuming, i was drowning. waiting for something you’d never say. and now the world thinks i’m with him, and you-” your throat tightens, “-you’re blaming me for it.”
his hand slams down on the couch beside you, the leather groaning under his weight. “because it kills me. every picture, every headline, it feels like my fucking chest is getting ripped open. i can’t stand seeing you with him. i can’t stand the idea that someone else gets to touch what’s mine.”
“you belong with me, not him. never him.”
the words hit you like a lightning strike, and suddenly everything, your anger, your frustration, your own desire collides with his. your pulse jumps, breath hitching, and you realize this isn’t just jealousy talking. this is raw, untamed sukuna, the version of him that’s always been yours, but somehow sharper, hungrier tonight.
he closes the gap between you in an instant, hands sliding to your waist, fingers digging in possessively. his forehead presses to yours, lips hovering, breath ragged. “you think i’ll watch anyone else touch you? think i’ll let the world steal you from me?”
you swallow hard, chest heaving, and reach up, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. “you never said anything,” you whisper, lips brushing his, teasing him like a dare. “so why now?”
“because now i can’t wait, y/n,” he growls, teeth grazing your bottom lip before he captures it, claiming it. his hands roam your back, pulling you flush against him. the familiar heat of him hits different, older, deeper, a storm brewing between the two of you that feels more dangerous than any of your previous nights together.
you respond without thinking, tilting your head, pressing into him, tongue tracing the seam of his lips. sukuna groans low, chest pressing harder, hips nudging yours with a force that makes you gasp. it’s not just desire, it’s possessive, urgent, like he’s marking you with every touch, every press of his body.
“fuck,” he mutters between kisses, voice rough, “you have no idea how much it fucks with my head.”
your hands slide down his sides, nails grazing the skin under his shirt, making him hiss. “then why do you make me feel like this? like it’s my fault i’m with him?”
he pulls back just enough to glare, eyes dark, lips swollen. “because it is my fault, damn it. i let it happen. i let you slip through my fingers when i should’ve said it all along. now i’m paying for it, and i’m not letting anyone else near you. not again.”
the words are fire, and before you can breathe, he’s back on you, mouth slamming against yours with a force that takes your balance. hands tangle in your hair, thumbs brushing along your jawline, holding your face like he can’t trust you to stay in place without him.
your own hands roam over him greedily, tracing the contours of his chest, feeling every taut muscle, every tattooed line. he moans into your mouth, rough and ragged, and your knees press together, rocking instinctively against him. the heat of him against you, the memory of every night you’ve shared, it all ignites into something explosive.
he pulls back for just a second, forehead resting against yours, breath coming fast. “god, you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, voice hoarse, eyes blazing. “every time we do this, i swear it’s the last time i can hold back.”
you tilt your head, daring, lips brushing his again. “then stop holding back.”
he doesn’t hesitate. teeth scrape your bottom lip, tongue fights yours, hands roaming like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. his hips grind against yours, pressing you into the couch, and you arch into him, breathless, moaning into his mouth.
“you're mine, y/n,” he growls, voice vibrating against your lips, and the possessiveness, the desperation, the raw hunger behind it makes your chest tighten in ways you didn’t know you needed.
your hands dig into his back, tugging him closer, dragging him flush against you, hips rocking in sync, mouths desperate, teeth occasionally clashing, and the room seems to shrink until there’s only the two of you, the fire between you, the heat that’s always been there but somehow sharper tonight.
his hands trail down to your thighs, gripping, pulling you impossibly closer, and you wrap your legs around him instinctively, deepening every kiss, every touch letting out groans of pleasure. the penthouse, the world outside, the staged photos, the headlines, it all disappears. it’s only him, only you, only this hunger that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
he breaks away for a breath, forehead resting against yours, panting. “so loud,” he mutters, voice thick with desire and frustration. “so fucking loud, and it’s all for me now. you hear me?”
you nod against his chest, letting the heat of him ground you, letting the intensity of it wash through you, and with a growl, he’s back, lips slamming into yours with renewed ferocity, hands relentless, teeth teasing, hips pressing, tongue tangling, marking, claiming, reminding you in every possible way that this, you, are his.
"i'll remind you over and over, make you scream my name until it finally sets in, y/n. i need you to be mine, in every way."
~
the morning after was rough. rough in the way that felt fake. you'd spent years pining after ryomen, letting him have you however he wanted in an attempt to make him love you. in reality, all it took was another man threatening what you had to make him see the light. you stirred naked in his bed, but his big hands held you strong against his chest, grabbing your thigh tight as a way of pinning you against his body.
"keep moving like that and i'll take you for a round four, sweetheart."
your legs clenched as he whispered profanity in your ear, and suddenly, this all felt real. the man you'd loved so hard was here, with an open heart loving you without the smoke screen. yet, there was still a whole world of questions that needed answering.
"so... ryo, does this make me your girlfriend?"
he laughed into your neck, stroking your bare chest. "if that's what you want, baby. just don't let nanami know yet, he'll be pissed."
speaking of nanami, a dial from your phone on the bedside table sounded like he was calling. before you could grab it, sukuna had it pressed to his ear, speaking in that low sexy gravel you loved to hate.
"yeah?"
"ryomen? what the fuck? where is y/n? i swear to god if you two are fucking at a time like this-"
"a time like what? it's 8am in the morning bro, chill out." sukuna rolled his finger over your lips as he pressed your body into the mattress with his weight, just to tease.
"have you not seen the news?! our cover is fucked! that stupid idiot toji decided to get his dick wet last night, and the paparazzi caught him halfway through. that bonehead didn't shut his window when he was on the second story of some shitty love hotel."
sukuna couldn't help but laugh, the entire plan backfiring because of toji was so on brand.
"oh no, what a shame. looks like the whole toji and y/n things gotta be put to bed, how tragic."
nanami started yelling about how he needed to take this seriously and that he was being selfish, but all sukuna could manage was a halfhearted apology and a dead line.
the silence after nanami’s call felt like the world had finally exhaled. you were flat on your back, ryomen’s weight pressed half into you, your phone discarded face down on the nightstand like it had never mattered. his laugh still hummed against your throat, warm and reckless, but you were too aware of the words nanami had hurled through the receiver.
toji, another girl, love hotel, paparazzi.
the band’s biggest scandal to date had just collapsed in on itself, and you should’ve been panicking. but sukuna’s hand was heavy on your thigh, grounding, possessive, and it was impossible to care when his mouth was tracing lazy lines over your collarbone.
“you’re really not worried?” you asked, voice muffled as he kissed his way back up your neck.
“baby,” he drawled, lips dragging against your skin, “for once, the universe did us a favor. let that dumbass crash his own ship. means you and me don’t have to play pretend anymore.”
your chest tightened, not with fear, but with something softer, sharper. you tipped his chin up so his eyes met yours. “so that’s it? no more fake headlines. no more staged kisses. no more pretending i’m-”
“his?” sukuna cut in, growling low. he kissed you hard, biting at your lip before pulling back with a smirk. “you were never his. you’re mine. always have been... as a matter of fact," he took out his phone and snapped a candid of you curled into his bare chest, looking as beautiful as ever in the morning glow. he quickly uploaded it to his instagram story and captioned it: guess the gigs up 🤷♂️ @y/n.
"and you say i'm corny." you giggled.
"yeah, but who cares. i think the world could end and i'd die content."
his words sank into you, settling deep where years of quiet pining had left a hollow.
you kissed him back, slow this time, gentle, letting him taste the truth in it.
~
the fallout wasn’t as bloody as you’d expected.
nanami spent the next forty-eight hours in full meltdown mode bless his soul, barking orders through group calls, his voice cracking under the weight of the mess. but for once, the chaos wasn’t on you. it wasn’t your body in grainy photographs or your name trending alongside some scandal. it was toji, again.
the fans went feral. screenshots of the paparazzi shots spread like wildfire. headlines screamed about his recklessness, the betrayal of the “romance” they’d been sold for weeks. hashtags flipped overnight, from #tojiny/n to #y/nandsukuna, fans swearing they’d “known all along” that the real story was between you and your guitarist.
miguel, dramatic as ever, spun it like a magician. “sometimes the best PR is no PR,” he’d purred on a call. “let the world eat itself. they’ll forget about the scandal in a week, but the chemistry between you two on stage? oh, darling, that’s forever.”
so you and sukuna stayed quiet. no interviews, no statements, just the two of you back in his penthouse, the city sprawling beneath you like a living, breathing stage.
it was the first time in months you’d been able to just… exist. no hotels, no flights, no soundchecks. mornings were soft and warm, both of you cuddled into one another like yin and yang. afternoons blurred into perfect music.
he’d sit cross-legged on the couch, guitar balanced against his inked thigh, fingers coaxing out riffs that vibrated through the air like a heartbeat. sometimes he’d get lost in it, head bowed, lips pursed, the kind of concentration that made you ache to watch. other times, he’d play for you, strumming something light, expectant eyes daring you to hum along.
you did, always. wordless melodies at first, then lines of lyrics scribbled down on scraps of paper when inspiration struck. he teased you when you got shy, his gravel voice mocking your faltering notes, but it was never cruel.
“sing it again,” he’d say, tapping his pick against the guitar body. “louder this time.”
“you’re bossy.”
“yeah, but you like it.”
you’d roll your eyes, but the truth was, you did. afternoons stretched long and golden, filled with half-finished songs, laughter, the occasional make-out break when his hands itched too much to stay on his guitar.
"wow, sing that part again baby, i think we can turn it into an actual song."
sometimes choso wandered in with toji not far behind when they happened to be passing by, the brunette plopping down with his drumsticks, tapping out rhythms on the coffee table while toji slung his bass over his shoulder and into his hands, ready to rock out a rhythm.
you all messed with chords, beats, potential lyrics, the sound filled the space, messy and alive, and for the first time it didn’t feel like the tense rehearsals you'd been attending for the past few weeks. it felt like creation. like something only the four of you could build together, right there, in that sunlit room.
"okay guys, drama aside, i forget how talented we are lowkey." choso mutters, toji laughs and rubs his neck.
"yeah, sorry about all of this guys. i know i started this shit but i swear, i'll make up for it by putting out some good music." he said bashfully.
you all forgave him through banter and teasing, and went back to brainstorming ideas for a potential new album. you'd use the coffee table as your personal stage as the boys belted out music to accompany your voice.
.
nights were a different kind of chaos.
neither you or sukuna could cook worth a damn, but that didn’t stop you. he would raid the absurdly expensive fridge nanami had stocked the last time he was over, pulling out random ingredients with a smirk.
“pasta?” he suggested one night, holding up spaghetti in one hand and… mayonnaise in the other.
“absolutely not,” you said, snatching the mayo away. “we’re not psychopaths.”
he laughed, deep and wicked, and leaned across the counter to steal a kiss before you could scold him again. somehow, the two of you always ended up covered in flour or sauce, chasing each other around the kitchen with spoons like kids.
the meals were disasters nine times out of ten. overcooked noodles, burnt chicken, rice that crunched between your teeth. but you ate them anyway, sitting cross-legged on the counter, sipping cheap wine straight from the bottle while he fed you bites off his fork.
“best chef in the city,” he bragged one night, holding up a plate of charred vegetables.
“liar.”
“nah, you love it.”
and maybe you did. not the food, but the way he leaned against the counter beside you, shoulders brushing, laughter echoing through the cavernous space that didn’t feel so empty anymore.
it was messy. it was imperfect, but it was yours.
mornings tangled in his sheets, afternoons humming beside his guitar with the rest of the band, nights burning dinners in a kitchen too big for just two people.
for the first time in years, it felt like a home.
~
the album dropped two weeks later.
against all odds, the scandal hadn’t killed it. if anything, it sold more records. every lyric you sang, every riff sukuna played, every crash of choso’s drums and each note strummed by toji felt heavier, sharper, truer. the fans played it half to death, over 10 million streams within a month.
on stage, the tension between everyone has subsided. the only thing left was the connection between you and sukuna, the way his gaze burned into you when you hit a high note, the way your hand always found his shoulder during final bows. it was electric, and this time, it wasn’t performance. it was real.
off stage, you were inseparable. nights blurred into mornings, your laughter echoing through the penthouse halls, his teasing drawl filling every silence.
but it wasn’t just the lust anymore. it was the way he’d brush your hair back when you were too tired to move, the way he’d hand you his hoodie without asking when you shivered, the way he’d mutter stupid jokes into your ear just to make you laugh when the weight of the world felt too much.
and maybe, just maybe, it was the way he said “my girl” without hesitation when he finally introduced you as such to miguel, to nanami, to anyone who dared to ask.
.
the world kept turning. scandals came and went. toji eventually managed to keep his head down long enough to repair some of his image.
but none of it mattered when you woke up with ryomen’s arm slung heavy around your waist, his chest pressed to your back, his sleepy growl in your ear.
“morning, sweetheart.”
“morning,” you whispered, rolling to face him, pressing your forehead to his.
“still mine?” he asked, voice rough, teasing but vulnerable under the edges.
you smiled, kissing him slow, soft, sure. “always.”
his grin was lazy, dangerous, the kind that once belonged to a man who’d never say the words out loud. but now? now his mouth brushed yours again, and he whispered it against your lips like a vow.
“good. because i’m never letting you go.”
and you believed him.
in the end, it wasn’t the scandal that defined you. it wasn’t the staged photos or the hashtags or the headlines. it wasn’t even the years of tension, the push and pull, the unspoken longing.
it was this. the quiet mornings. the shared laughter. the unshakable truth that after all the chaos, all the noise, all the fights and the fire,
you were his. and he was yours.
always.
and the band had never felt more on the same wavelength than right now, finally back in the studio, putting lyrics on paper and music on sell out records.
"so, boys, what do we think about 'scandal' being the name of the new album?"
YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit
🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟑:
⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, breast milk kink, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, minor smut, mentions of cheating, dissociative fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, it gets steamer in this chapter, cat and mouse dynamics, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi and yuji, family dynamics.
⟢ episode run time: 𝟏𝟓.𝟕𝐤
⟢ episode list: m.list
⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track.
⟢ director's note: e3 is finally here!! sorry it's literally been a whole ass year lol. i hope it's worth the wait as it's more words than p1+p2 combined lol. lots of things happening in this chapter and it gets pretty steamy ;)
"FUCK YOU AND FUCK THIS RING!"
The wide glass pane rattles in its frame as you slam the balcony door open.
Across the gap, Toji retreats into the shadows. Dropping his cigarette low by his hip to remain unnoticed.
Although, he probably didn’t need to move at all—seeing as how the fury fueled determination etched across your beautiful features has you looking like a woman on a mission.
With a small cry, you hurl a tiny gold object Toji can only assume is an engagement ring over the edge—the jeweled metal glinting in the moonlight a brief second before vanishing into the darkness.
Atta girl, mamas.
Toji knew you wouldn’t go through with it.
Marrying Sukuna—you couldn’t.
Proof that the seeds of doubt Toji planted in your heart were sprouting rather nicely.
And if Toji got his way, he’d soon plant his seeds in other places inside of you too.
Nevertheless, the end result is all the same to Toji.
Even a rash decision like you eloping with Sukuna couldn’t stop Toji now—though it would complicate things should he make good on his promise to put a bullet in Sukuna if necessary.
But until that time comes, Toji will continue playing his cards slow and steady.
Good things come to those who wait right?
The delicate balance of events, taking his time over the last 3 months, had proven necessary.
Your fate wasn’t just in his hands alone after all. It also—
“THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO WOMAN!?”
Severing Toji’s thoughts, Sukuna's voice thundered from inside of the condo, his ire penetrating every word like a dagger.
Retreating back inside, the balcony door is left wide open in your wake as your voices echo into the night.
Toji is sure the whole fuckin’ neighborhood hears your fight at this point.
“RECIPROCIATING ENERGY, RYO! YOU WANNA DOG ME THE FUCK OUT!? THEN YOU SHOULDN’T MIND PLAYING FETCH!”
Toji chuckles, you may not be an assassin, but your slick ass mouth certainly could fire enough shots to be deemed a deadly weapon—something he has first hand knowledge of thanks to your last encounter.
In the past, Toji often wondered how Yuji—despite having a front-row seat to your and Sukuna’s constant bickering—remained such a cheerful, boisterous kid.
“GODDAMN IT! Crazy ass woman, that’s ¥3,500,000 you just fucked away!”
However, it wasn’t until recently that Toji discovered the noise-canceling headphones you bought for Yuji—the kind designed for babies at loud events—shielding him from his parents' arguments, keeping him blissfully unaware.
“OH LIKE YOU FUCKED AWAY OUR FUTURE BY GETTING ANOTHER WOMAN PREGNANT…THEN HAD THE FUCKING AUDACITY TO SUGGEST BOTH OF US LIVE WITH YOU IN ITALY LIKE WE’RE GODDAMN SISTERWIVES?!”
Toji muses. With him, those headphones will become unnecessary.
He’d never give you the need to have an argument like this with him.
Precisely because he’d never even look at another woman again if he had you.
Toji wants nothing outside of you as his wife.
He also knows it’s what you want too, deep down—even if you haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.
You were so close to doing so last time though, admitting it to both yourself and to Toji—tsk, but you ran.
Exactly two weeks had passed since then though, and in that time he’s barely seen you.
You’ve been dodging him.
Groceries delivered to your door and your mail brought up by the concierge.
The only interactions between you two as of late are those fake-polite, rushed smiles—the kind you give someone you’d rather not talk to when you just so happen to cross paths.
Not that any of his run-ins with you ever just so happen.
Of course, you have no clue the building’s security cameras are synced to his phone.
But the most unforgivable part?
You miss playdates.
Fuck—after all those weeks of letting Megumi and Yuji play together like the brothers they’d soon become too.
Toji’s patience has nearly reached its limits, but he knows you just need time to catch up to what he can plainly see coming.
To what is inevitable.
You damn near fell for him right then and there that night.
Toji takes you not informing Sukuna of what happened last time Toji saw you as a good sign.
Sukuna would have tried to kill Toji himself had you told.
Although it's a given that Sukuna will catch on eventually, Toji expects it will be far too late by then to do anything about what’s already been set in motion.
Chain-smoking, Toji flicks away a cigarette butt only to light another as his thoughts effortlessly drift back to that decisive encounter two weeks ago.
⟡
Toji returned home late that night to The Nursery. One hand kneaded the knots in the back of his neck while the other braced against the wall, steadying himself as he kicked off his oxfords in the entryway—half-laced and haphazard, just like his thoughts.
Exhaling hard, he cursed. His age was showing.
A younger version of him wouldn’t have even yawned at that hour—even after being up for nearly two days straight.
Yet, with the organization in disarray, Toji felt the weariness of pointless conflict. Especially since he’d been given the “honor” of playing a glorified elderly caretaker for the big boss in the form of a bodyguard.
Who would’ve thought the assassination of an executive—overseas, in Italy no less—could stir so much shit back in Japan?
But three months in and zero results to show, outside involvement had been officially ruled out.
The inner organization subsequently appeared weakened.
Power struggles had begun to boil, and the internal war Toji had long dreaded was no longer hypothetical.
It was imminent.
While others took this opportunity to curry favor or stage power plays, Toji only sees it for what it is—a pain in the ass.
All it amounted to was wasted hours that could’ve been spent making you his.
Toji missed your presence, your laugh.
You no longer flinched when he got too close, when his shoulder would brush against yours or when his hand would press against the small of your back in passing.
You saw him as dependable, even dare he say—gentle.
The kind of man who could be a good father and husband.
Toji snorted.
Well, better than Sukuna at any damn rate and that’s all that really mattered.
Yet those interactions were brief when you’d pick up or drop off Yuji from a playdate.
You never lingered too long though and Toji couldn’t risk keeping you and having Sukuna catch on and retaliate again—fucking you just to prove a point.
Even though Toji knew you were on birth control from tracking the pharmacy deliveries—the thought of you accidentally having Sukuna’s kid again before his own makes his blood boil.
Nevertheless, Toji made plans to see you that night.
Well—his own plans. You didn’t know about them yet.
Toji knew for a fact that Sukuna had been suddenly occupied that night—his contact had given him those assurances, and he expected you to be alone with the kids.
What Toji didn’t anticipate though was to see you in his condo when he walked through the hallway and into the living room.
Like some kinda divine intervention delivered you to him personally.
Sarcastically blowing a kiss to the sky, Toji would give the credit to whatever God that wanted it.
A sight for sore eyes, you instantly energized Toji, grounding something restless in him. He took his time loosening his tie as he made his way towards you, savoring the view: you fast asleep on the sofa with Megumi and Yuji nestled against you.
His chest warmed at the sight of Megumi’s tiny fist curled tightly around the fabric of your dress—even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go. Toji exhaled slow, chest tight with something damn near primal—because the kid wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
The soft glow of the TV flickered, playing My Neighbor Totoro on a low volume and casting a comforting light around the dimly lit room.
How sweet—did you all stay up as long as you could waiting for ‘daddy’ to come home?
His vision so close to being reality, he could taste it.
Close enough to really get a good look at you, Toji’s eyes roamed over your relaxed features, taking in all the little details. Your slightly disheveled hair and smudged makeup only added to your allure somehow.
Although, too done up for just a playdate. It was clear to Toji you were meant to be somewhere else that night before Sukuna had been preoccupied.
The elegant black plunge-neck gown you wore elevated your soft curves in all the right ways. Especially in your sleep as the silky straps slipped off your shoulders, seductively baring most of your breasts and the diamond-drop necklace nestled between them.
Well, they would be barred—if not for the two boys snuggled against your chest covering them up, the tiny milk rings on their mouths evidence of their satisfaction.
Heh, so even Megumi had gotten a sip directly from your sweet tits before him?
Lucky little bastard.
Not that Toji hadn’t tried your milk before, well—indirectly.
After Megumi’s mother passed, he’d refused formula, surviving off of hospital donations. But when the nanny mentioned a hospital shortage, you offered your extra supply without a second thought. You already were already dumping a wasteful amount thanks to Yuji’s hearty appetite, your overactive mommy milkers had plenty to spare.
Toji’s freezer was overflowing with bags of your sweet overstock.
Too damn kind for your own good, ma.
Admittedly, the more Toji thought of your selfless donation, the harder the brick-like urge hit him to taste the creamy delicacy.
And like the fiend he is, Toji was hooked from the first drip of bottle-warmed breast milk onto his tongue. Toji had to suppress a deep groan from gurgling up his throat at the taste.
A good thing Megumi’s nanny walked in when she did or he’d have been tempted to down the whole damn bottle.
After that Toji made a habit out of “testing” Megumi’s bottles, always indulging in a few stolen sips. He reasoned it’s better to put on his tongue than waste a single precious drop on his forearm.
But soon, Toji would fix that.
He’d gorge on his fill—directly from the source.
Tearing his gaze away from your chest, Toji’s eyes trailed lower, lingering on your fleshy hips exposed by the high-cut slits of your dress. The airy fabric bunched between your legs, inguinal crease exposed and tempting him as it revealed damn near everything but your pussy lips.
Toji couldn’t confirm back at the grocery store, but you definitely did not have panties on that night.
Still… The idea of you dressing up like a doll in something expensive—looking as fuckin’ drop dead gorgeous as you did—just to sit across from that smug bastard Sukuna, left Toji’s jaw clenching.
Especially when you got yourself all dolled up and went through all that effort for a man who didn’t even bother to show.
Toji didn’t need to hear the soft sniffs woven between your shallow snores to know you’d been crying. The faint darkness under your eyes, the puffiness in your cheeks were fresh. He’d know as he’d memorized every detail of how you looked over these past few months.
But fuck Sukuna, because now you were on his sofa, waiting for him.
Feeling a wave of conflicting emotions overtake him, Toji was unsure if he wanted to palm the heavy chub forming in his slacks at your disheveled state or snap a photo of you to commemorate the moment of just how perfect you looked holding the kids, like you were Megumi’s mother too.
Heh, a video would probably be best… he could jerk off later…two birds, one stone…
Eh, on second thought, maybe he could even slightly nudge Megumi's head out of the way and get a full glimpse of those fat puffy areolas of yours.
“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”
A heavy, yet feminine voice oozed with amusement from the shadows. With her comes a proverbial storm cloud raining over the erotic yet wholesome image of you Toji had formed in his mind.
Nevertheless, Toji’s no top assassin for nothing—his gun spun out and leveled, silencer in place, before the tall, raven-haired woman’s words even finished echoing down the hall.
Toji gritted—The Nursery whore you befriended.
Fuck, she’d been in here the entire time and he hadn’t noticed.
If she were anyone else, Toji would have thought he’d been getting rusty…
Tsk—why did you have to go and make fucking friends with a bitch like her?
“I hate to admit it, but I see the appeal—I mean, if you aren’t being too picky, I suppose.”
Your friend simpered.
Clad in a lacquer-tight red mini-dress, she clicked across the hardwood, matte-black nails raised in mock surrender—her heels and haughty strut a loud declaration of audacity, disrespect, and complete disregard for Toji’s home.
“Easy tiger…wouldn’t want to wake their precious sleep, no?”
Toji didn’t lower the gun. He didn’t even speak.
Not intimidated in the least, your friend sauntered closer, hips swaying deliberately.
Defiantly, she leaned, centering the barrel perfectly between her tits. There’s a sick glint in her eyes like she gets off on the sensation of death pressed against her sternum.
“Go ahead, Fushiguro. I dare you.”
With no fear she grabbed Toji’s wrist, slowly dragging the barrel beneath her chin.
The stare down is intense.
Fucking crazy ass bitch belongs in a padded cell.
Yet Toji was the one with everything to lose and after what seemed like ages he finally broke the silence, gritting the words out as not to wake you.
“Are you fucking stupid? I told you to stay the fuck away from me…. and her.”
His head tipped to you, and your friend’s eyes narrowed with venom.
“I know I don’t need to remind you, Fushiguro—but I can go anywhere in this building I damn well please.”
Anger flashes in Toji’s eyes. If looks could kill, Toji surely would have repainted the living room with her blood.
“Ha! Don’t tell me you're serious! Oh, puh-lease Fushigro!”
Snorting the woman eyed Toji like he’s a sulking child prone to theatrics.
“C’mon. I was just checking in on our little mama, hm? Poor thing got stood up after all. Then had to come n’ play nanny after yours had a lil ‘accident’—but you wouldn’t know anything about that right, hm?”
Ignoring her annoying ass prattling, Toji muttered a string of curses before reholstering his pistol with a reluctant clink.
Your friend simply giggled, unceremoniously dropping onto the sofa beside you—nestling into the spot that should have been his.
Fuckin’ bitch.
Toji couldn’t stand the way she looked at you.
Like she was deciding what kind of game she’d play with you as you stirred in your sleep.
This is why Toji warned you not to make friends here… and of all the whores in this building too.
Not that you know who she really is—she plays a role well, when she wants.
Anxious, Toji’s other hand twitched at his side.
Although his gun is lowered, his killer instincts are still gnawing at him to ‘neutralize the threat’.
It wouldn’t take but a moment to slide the blade from his pocket and chuck it straight between her eyes while the bitch dared to brush your baby hairs back with mock affection.
Toji wouldn’t miss, yet wouldn’t dare risk it while you were so close.
"Touch her again and I’ll take your fucking hand off—that’s a promise."
Toji’s protectful gaze shifted to you,then to the boys—both still asleep and cuddled into your warmth like tiny animals burrowed-in for safety.
Your friend didn’t respond, only leaned back and exhaled a dreamy little sigh, letting her hand drift dangerously close to Yuji now.
Toji sneered, a loophole since he clearly told her not to touch you, yet before Toji can say more, that’s when you finally began to stir.
Call it mother’s intuition at a sign of danger or whatever the fuck, but Toji was thankful for it nonetheless as the woman pulled back with a frown.
A haze of exhaustion clouded your features, but you still identified Toji through your disorientation, blinking your sleep away.
“F-F-Fushiguro… you’re—*yawns* back?”
Toji didn’t answer immediately, simultaneously realizing he still had the pistol in his hand and holstering it behind his back in a swift fluid motion.
“Yeah, ma. I’m home.”
Toji’s reply is clipped but he’s focused on suppressing the scowl on his face before you realize something is wrong.
“I—I’m sorry. I know it must be a bit of a shock to see us here, but I scheduled a playdate with the nanny last minute so, me and Su—um, well…uh, so I could go out. But then she cut her hand and had to rush to the hospital…”
Toji tensed watching you fumble over your explanation, catching yourself before you mentioned Sukuna—why?
“—and I came to help!”
Interjecting with a bright smile that Toji saw straight through, your friend plucked Yuji out of your arms, bouncing him on her knee.
“Couldn’t let her handle this all alone after the night she’s had, so I came to help with lil’ Yu-Yu!”
Toji watched as Yuji squirms, fussing as he’s clearly not a fan of the nickname given to him either. Smart kid.
You, on the other hand, were too frazzled to notice—cheeks burning as you finally registered just how exposed you were. Tugging your dress down and smoothing your hair in flustered strokes, you multitasked with as much grace as you could, all while gently rocking Megumi to keep him from waking.
“What a horrible accident, all that blood too! Although nothing Ji-Ji would ever bat an eye at.”
Nothing that bitch would fuckin’ bat an eye at either, but Toji couldn’t be concerned with that when he could practically see the phantom question marks pop over your head as a revelation sinks in.
“Oh, um…but you two know each other?”
Your attempts to ask casually might have fooled less astute individuals but your true question is obvious.
Motherfucker.
Given his less-than-stellar reputation around The Nursery, Toji could already picture the conclusions you were jumping to.
“I didn’t realize…”
Your friend's smarmy smile made Toji’s skin crawl.
“Who, Ji-Ji?”
She cooed obnoxiously at Toji in the same sickly sweet tone she used with Yuji.
“We go way back.”
Your friend flipped her long raven hair and laughed.
“We practically grew up together! Didn’t we, Ji-Ji?”
If Toji’s jaw got any tighter his teeth might’ve cracked.
“Yeah—sumthin’ like that.”
Toji wanted to leave it there and not elaborate—truthfully there was nothing to even elaborate on—but the way you looked between them, he knew you likely assumed the worst.
Fuck…there’s no getting around this now.
“Tch, she’s the big boss’s daughter.”
Toji revealed as his eyes meet yours.
Damn—he should have warned you when you told him about her at the grocery store.
Yet he thought it was too suspicious and couldn’t risk you misinterpreting it as him being controlling—what with your uber controlled relationship with Sukuna completely on his terms.
And given how you reacted to him paying for your groceries? Toji didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know he would have crashed and burned that landing.
“Illegitimate daughter—yet still a legitimate pain in my ass after all these years.”
Toji’s voice stays flat, offering no affection for your friend—now revealed to be the boss’s daughter. Toji knew she had no designs on him other than to be a nuisance, so he didn’t bother sparing her feelings.
His focus stayed on you, watching as your brows knitted, struggling to process the flood of information hitting all at once.
“Oh, don’t be like that Ji-Ji, we used to be so close before I moved to Italy!”
She winked, but Toji ignored it, outwardly unmoved but inside he was raging.
She was simply toying with you for sport—no other reason for her to be here.
Ultimately he didn’t fuckin’ care whose daughter she was or how long he’d known her for—if she tried to stand in his way when it came to you, he’d deal with her.
“Psh, ya n’ haven’t seen or heard from ya in fuckin’ years…”
Toji scoffed, making his way to the bar cart on the other side of the room. He needed to occupy his hands with something, less he did something explosive like actually put a bullet in the yakuza slut’s skull.
“Aw, don’t act like a stranger now. It's only been two years and we recently reconnected, haven't we?”
Glass clinking against wood and the sound of dark liquor pouring were the only answers she received as Toji downed the fiery substance like medicine.
That much is true—Toji had known her for years, and it'd been two years since she’s been away—but their relationship was nothing like she was inferring it to be.
There weren’t many kids actually a part of the yakuza and not coddled in traditional homes or outside of The Nursery. Of course they knew each other. Honestly as both the bosses’ daughter and being completely batshit herself, Toji kept his distance from her unless absolutely necessary—even as a child.
An awkward silence ensued, the accusation lingering thickly as all eyes in the room were on Toji.
The tension was palpable, but Toji simply swirled a newly poured glass of whiskey, smelling it briefly before chugging it down and pouring another.
Toji’s only viable answer was a non-answer—he wouldn’t fall into her trap.
“Huh… a yakuza boss' daughter…”
After a few minutes, you found your voice and attempted to ease the strain saturating the room, your attention back on your friend.
“Well, I guess that also explains why the other women here now avoid me entirely since they’ve seen me with you.”
‘Yeah cause she’s the most fucking insane of the bunch.’ Toji wants to say, but he was well aware of the catch-22 he was in.
There wasn’t much he could get away with at the moment without looking even more guilty for knowing her and not mentioning it, especially since you’d probably try to play it off as none of your business.
Presently, this is the only moment in Toji’s long life of sin he has ever rued his slutty reputation.
“Power has its privileges, my love~!”
Your friend sing-songed, and she looked as if she was about to launch into a particularly annoying self-serving monologue before a loud ding interrupted her.
Yuji continued to squirm in her arms as she rummaged through her matching red clutch until she found her phone.
“Ah ha! That’s my fiancé texting me! He sent a car for me—he just can’t stay away”
Likewise Toji, in considering himself your future husband, couldn’t keep his eyes from you. Not paying the boss's daughter any mind as he took note of the way your face crumbled at the mention of fiancé.
Fiancé…ya gotta be fucking kidding.
“Oh, sweetheart…”
She noticed it too—your friend’s condensing comfort confirming Toji’s suspicions.
Consequently, Toji forced himself to ease up on the empty glass of whiskey he held, lest he crush it under his grip—because then he knew.
So is that what the hell tonight was supposed to be about—you being all dolled up?
Did that motherfucker Sukuna actually propose to you?
Or did the asshole simply promise you he’d marry you—stringing you along again and throwing just enough scraps—to state you…to keep you imprisoned in his orbit.
Fiancé or husband though—it didn’t fuckin’ matter.
Sukuna could slap any title he wanted on you—you’d still be Toji’s in the end.
“Now, now. Don’t be sad, angel. You’ll find the right one meant for you—we all do eventually. You know, I’d think you’d fare better with a nice salaryman than a yakuza.”
It was crystal fucking clear the bitch was patronizing you, yet you still tried to give your ‘friend’ a genuine smile.
Shit, you must be particularly hard-up for company if you’re willing to humor a bitch like her.
The boss’s daughter always loved her games and how blatantly tactless she could be once one of her cards had been revealed.
But she wasn’t sitting at a table where she could win here.
Toji wasn’t about to let anyone else dictate how this would play out when it came to you.
Right then, Yuji began to cry in full force and Toji moved before you could, lifting Megumi into his arms and clearing the way without a word—forcing your friend’s hand.
Your friend rolled her eyes at Yuji's tantrum, plopping him back into your lap and brushing off her palms as if he left something on her.
It’s clear the boss's daughter has zero maternal bones in her body the way Yuji quiets once he’s back in your arms where he belonged.
“Welp, off I go! He has a bit of a temper and hates when I keep him waiting, ya know~ciao bella!”
She blew a kiss to the room and sauntered out like a queen off to better things than toiling around with mere subjects.
The door slammed shut behind her.
In her absence the leftover tension clung to the air like humidity. Toji cursed the heavy revelations she stirred up and left for the two of you to choke on.
Your friend who you now know to be the illegitimate daughter of a yakuza boss—also Toji’s childhood acquaintance.
And Sukuna’s proposal… or just the promise of one?
Fuck.
How did the perfect situation Toji walk into turn into this mess?! He didn’t think Sukuna would be so desperate to keep you as to propose.
Your sigh caught Toji’s attention.
Tsk, Toji resents them both—your “friend” for toying with you and Sukuna for building up your hopes to something he could never be for you—something that Toji could fulfill so much better.
“You know…She’s..She’s been kind overall, even if she can be a lot.”
Your gaze stayed fixed on the door, shoulders slumping under the weight of not only being stood up but mocked.
It pissed Toji off—so he said the only thing he could. He’s not good with words, but he could at least give you honesty.
“She’s a cunt.”
You quickly shot Toji an admonishing look as if you were about to tell him to ‘watch his mouth in front of the kids’, yet you relaxed once you realized both kids were knocked out again.
“Yeah, but I can’t deny she’s looked after me, getting those other women off my back without expecting anything in return—”
Mama, you had no fuckin’ idea what she expects. But Toji kept that to himself for now.
“Fuck her, ma.”
You rolled your eyes, continuing.
“—and while it hurts to hear, she’s right about Sukuna.”
“Yeah? Well, fuck him too.”
You snorted sharply at that, no longer able to hide your amusement at Toji’s overt bluntness.
“Ha! Now, that’s no good either—how do you think I got stuck with him in the first damn place, Fushiguro?”
Toji couldn’t stop the devilish grin that formed at seeing a bit of your fire return.
“It’s Toji, ma...”
You threw him some side eye before conceding with a small laugh—bright and genuine, and for a brief moment it looked as if you had another slick comeback prepared, but then your face fell back somber.
Truly, Toji was hanging on by a fuckin’ thread not going on a suicide mission to take down the whole damn organization. None of them deserved to even know you.
“I don’t know, everything has been so different since becoming a mom—I’m different.”
Confiding in Toji, you softly smooth down Yuji’s hair.
“Perhaps if I looked that good in a mini dress again…I used to wear stuff like that all the time, but Sukuna thinks it's too revealing now…even this dress he’d probably think is too much.”
You trailed off, and there was a beat of silence before Toji spoke, he’d been successful at calming himself about your supposed engagement, but your admission of Sukuna and that whore making you insecure when you were so fucking perfect was making him murderous.
“Look at me.”
The authority in his voice startled you but Toji didn’t regret it, he needed to ensure you heard him on this.
“Ya look fuckin’ beautiful tonight, mama. Better than any woman in this building, all of fuckin’ Tokyo. Motherhood, when y’er meant to be one, when y’er good at it—is sexy on it’s own…”
Toji paused, and the weight of his smolder made you shift in your seat.
“...and y’er damned good at it ma.”
Your eyes widen and a deep flush sweeps over your body.
Toji almost thought he said the wrong thing again until your smile returned as you lightly chewed your lip—unable to mumble out anything but a small ‘thanks’ before quickly shifting your focus to check if Yuji needed a diaper change.
Toji’s chest puffed in pride. For all his scheming, in the moment he simply spoke his truth.
If anything you should be wearing less—well, if he had any say in it you’d be wearing nothing at all right now.
“Heh ya know mama, you doll up real nice. Be a real shame to take it all off without having dinner first…”
Toji casually stepped forward, looming over you until you were forced to look away from Yuji and up at him.
“So how bout it? I’ll cook.”
You looked at Toji like he sprouted two more heads.
“You? Cook?!”
You were looking at him like you didn’t think he could even boil water.
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve ever done.. ‘sides you deserve it, eh?”
Toji loves how your eyes sparkled, even if you tried to reign it in after a few moments.
Just say yes.
“Tsk, I know this isn’t the night ya wanted but… y’er the only other person I trust with Gumi. This is just my way of sayin’ thanks.”
Toji rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool—but when your face lit up, unabashed this time, he couldn't help but grin too.
“Well, okay, yeah I am a bit hungry now that you mention it…but I’m at least supervising! I’m not sure if I trust you just yet in the kitchen, Fushiguro.”
“Ya got it and—it’s Toji, ma.”
The decision was quick—Toji would cook dinner, and you’dl finally make good on your promise of matcha brownies.
As much as he hated the boss’s daughter barging in, Toji couldn’t deny that her interruption left you more willing to stay—more open to letting him salvage the night.Rough beginnings to be sure, but Toji wasn’t about to let this opportunity for a ‘first date’ pass nonetheless.
“Ya can put Yuji in Megumi’s crib. Plenty room.”
You nodded, adjusted Yuji in your arms, and followed Toji into the hall. Toji slowed to your pace, matching your small strides so you could keep up. There was something wholly familiar about you both walking like this to Megumi’s room, and an intense flash of deja vu triggered in his mind.
He’s in a house. It’s homey, well lived in.
The air smells of simple comforts like miso and laundry softener.
Megumi and Yuji are clonked out on the floor. The cushy living room rug being an impromptu bed as the two caused utter mayhem until they tired themselves out.
You step past Toji as you bend down to pick up Megumi and in turn he holds Yuji, a large protective hand on his back. Somehow it’s too easy to have love for the boisterous little boy who has all the best parts of you.
Walking into the children’s bedroom there’s a lone crib there. Too big for any of the boys but it's not meant for them.
There’s another baby, already tucked away asleep.
Toji steps closer to get a better look...
The vision ended there, leaving him standing in front of Megumi’s crib—empty.
Toji closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the sight, yet the last remnants were gone and he’s ushered back into reality. You brushed past him, laying Yuji in Megumi’s crib. Swaddling Yuji’s sides with the blanket, you plant a kiss on the forehead. His tiny fists twitched once, then went slack—out like a light.
Following your lead, Toji places Megumi on the opposite end,Yet to no surprise to Toji, Megumi's small face scrunches in protest, a fuss well on its way to starting.
Shit kid usually has a pacifier or something when he sleeps, huh?
Toji turned to a nearby nightstand but to his surprise, you were already on it.
“Shhh, baby... I know.” Murmuring sweetly, you brushed the spikey hairs from Megumi’s face. “...rest easy now.”
The floor creaked as Toji leaned in to appraise the gentle way you rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, pacified, but your touch quickly sank him into a peaceful slumber before it was no longer needed.Toji hummed, pleased, and he placed Megumi’s binky into the crib. A simple, routine motion—until your fingers gently curled around his wrist.
The contact was only meant to steady yourself as you leaned to kiss Megumi’s temple, but to Toji, it was anything but insignificant.
His arm tingled under your soft grip, the faintest brush of your thumb skating across the inside of his wrist. It was unconscious. Familiar. The kind of touch given by someone who expected you to be there—who didn’t doubt your presence.
And fuck, maybe that’s what undoes him most.
You didn’t even realize what you did. He stayed silent, struck dumb as your hand slipped away, returning to the crib to tuck Megumi’s blanket tighter under his chin like nothing happened. But Toji was still reeling, the heat of your touch lingering like a brand.
“There! All tucked in… g’nite, sweet babies,”
Your voice was full of warmth as you turned around, only to collide into Toji’s chest.
He hadn’t moved. Not an inch since your hand left his.
“Oh, I’m—”
The apology faltered on your tongue when you realized just how close the two of you were—so close you had to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes.
Your gaze, wide and shimmering with caution. Not quite matching the way your lips part instinctively like your body already made a decision your brain scrambled to rationalize.
The air hummed between you both, a current of electricity that had every nerve in Toji coiled tight. They screamed at him to pounce, because goddamn if he didn’t want to kiss you—slide his tongue into the depths of your mouth and finally taste you. To make you gag on every last bit of longing he’s been holding in all this time.
His instincts told him you’d let him too.
Did you both share the same dreamy domesticated deja vu?
Did you think of him and Megumi as yours already?
Close enough to smell you, the sweet intoxicating florals of your perfumed scent swirled around his senses, tempting him like a siren call.
If Toji took one step forward, he could pin you between the crib.
Be that as it may, Toji’s astute perception also alerted him to how desperately you grasped the railing of the crib. Terrified of your own desires, your knuckles bulging from how tight you gripped the wood.
Look at you so eager, and yet so nervous.
It practically oozed out of every pore.
Toji practically salivated at the circumstance—he had you where he wanted you for so long now.
You gasped, involuntarily moving forward to press against his hulking frame as his hand slid over your waist.
Toji moved down—
—right past you to turn on the baby monitor attached to the side of the crib.
Grabbing the receiver in the holster next to it, Toji stood up, putting enough space between you so your lungs could start functioning again.
Tsk, you weren’t quite there yet though.
Toji was completely, as evidenced by his cock—half hard in his pant and throbbing—all while warring with his mind that decided at the last minute you weren’t ready.
You had to want it more.
There would be no misunderstandings, no turning back when Toji finally kissed you.
“Well, let’s get t’cookin’ then. Ya like yakiniku, ma?”
The sheer amount of bashful bewilderment radiating off of you made Toji smirk. He lets you marinate in the aftermath as he quickly leaves the room. He didn’t look back, but knew you started to follow by the pap pap pap sounds of your feet trailing behind him.
“Uh-I, um gotta go—go and get the ingredients for the brownies!”
Your announcement came as soon as the two of you were back in the living room, and didn’t wait for his acknowledgement before you booked it out of the door.
Toji waved you off, chuckling as he entered his kitchen.
If you’d hadn’t just put Yuji down, Toji would almost bet your embarrassment wouldn’t let you return. He was sure his casual reaction threw you for a loop. It took every bit of restraint he had to behave, but Toji was playing the long game.
By the time you came back, composure settled and ingredients in hand, Toji was already deep into prepping dinner, the entire ensemble atop the island in the middle of the kitchen.
“You actually own an apron?”
Toji didn’t look up, but a cheeky grin pulled at the rough scar on his lip. It wasn’t really anything fancy, just a simple white canvas material, folded in half and wrapped around Toji’s muscled waist.
“Well it ain’t a skirt, mama.”
Toji threw you one too causing you to giggle softly.
“Multiple at that!?”
Toji knows your eyes on him, but remains focused on the task in front of him. Having you observe him with interest like the many times he observed you honestly thrilled him—to be the object of your study for once.
You gazed at his arms, bulky, bare, as he discarded his suit jacket, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. A sweep of dark inks snakes up his forearms—coiling waves and windbars rippled when he flexes. The color is rich, old-school and bold with no outlines—just intricate patterns branded on his skin like the stories they tell are in his very blood. Toji feels they are at least, so it only affirms your assumed appreciation of his appearance.
Toji lets you linger, savoring the moment. No need to ruin it by making you self-conscious about just how hard you’re staring at him now.
Nah, better to keep it casual for now.
“Might not look like it mama, but I know my way around a kitchen at least when it comes t’meat. If ya cut it right, hard to fuck up yakiniku—even for me.”
Toji produced an impressive slab of beef from the fridge, eliciting an amazed ‘woah’ from your side of the kitchen. The cooking knife he held shone sharply, almost as much as the marbling on the meat itself.
Truthfully, Toji couldn’t remember how long it’d been since he even cut meat for someone, let alone cooked. Still, the motions came back like second nature.
Drawing the knife. Diagonial strokes. Quick, uniform and methodical.
Under his knife, the wagyu seemed to melt off for Toji, who laid the tender cuts out in a circle formation on a platter already filled with cabbage, mushroom and pumpkin chunks.
Toji was already anticipating how good it would sizzle once it hit the pan, and your awes were palpitable.
“Wait..hello?! Do you moonlight as an Iron Chef or something?”
Toji barked with laughter and showing off extravagantly, he flipped the last slice of meat onto the plate, and you couldn’t help but clap in amusement.
Toji is an assassin afterall, of course he’d be good with knives—but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t going to showboat a little, and he gave you a wink for your applause..
“You’re full of surprises, Fushiguro.”
“—Toji, mama,” Toji corrects without thinking. It's second nature now.
You’d made your way to his side of the island, Toji’s tattoos and skills with a knife dazzling you like a lure. Your bodies were almost touching again as Toji turned, towering over you for the second time that night. A soft, humming charge of anticipation that seemed to radiate from you, growing stronger with each inch he leaned in.
You’re trapped in the flame of his aura again but this time there's more calm about you.
Your hand on the counter supports rather than braces.
Your chin tipped back, your eyes locking with his.
Look at you… coy, inviting. Irresistible.
Still not enough.
“Pass the shoyu, ma?”
The relaxed request snaps you out of your daze.
“O-Of course!”
Nearly knocking over the bottle in your haste, you practically toss it at him before scurrying back to your bag at the far end of the island.
The brownie ingredients rustle as you dig furiously through them, looking everywhere but at Toji.
“Thanks, mama,” Toji grinned, catching the bottle with ease.
For all the fire and sass you have in you, you’re pretty soft under the surface. He likes seeing that part, the innocence you try to keep hidden. The very opposite of the man he just can’t wrap his mind around believing you’re with.
Sukuna’s no saint—you had to know he killed men.
But Toji? He’s lost count.
And he wondered—how much of him could you actually accept if you really knew him?
What he’s done.
What he’s yet to do, just to have you.
Would you hate him for it?
“But don’t let the setup fool ya, ma. I ain’t no cook. Just…when ya grow up workin’ in a butcher shop, you pick up a thing or two about meat. I had to learn how to prep bodies for disposal before I learned how to take ‘em out.”
Toji poured the soy sauce into the marinade, sneaking a glance at you over his shoulder.
Your brow lifts, unconvinced.
“Uh-huh.”
Toji was baiting you with his yakuza affiliations—and you were taking it, just like he knew you would.
“Nah, ya know I’m fuckin’ with you, mama,”
His grin still plastered on his scarred lips.
“C’mon, what’s the look for, ma? We kept it all separate. No mixing people with the food…”
Toji paused but you didn't interject. You listened, and like a sponge you soaked up every dark little drip of his past he fed you under the guise of his jokes.
“…but when ya work in a butcher shop, no one questions bloody bags in the dumpster.”
Your eyes rolled as you shook your head, but Toji caught a twitch of a smile.
You weren’t squeamish. Good.
“I guess it was too much to hope you’d just taken a cooking class.”
Although you could take a joke well, your sighs betrayed you were clearly unimpressed.
“You yakuza men…”
That hits a nerve.
Yakuza men.
You just compared them. You had to have—what other yakuza did you know but Sukuna?
Toji knew what he was doing. Dangling the most unsavory parts of himself with a grin, just to see if you’d flinch.
So maybe he deserved that.
But hearing it out loud—having it confirmed that you might see him the same way you see Sukuna—hit like a bullet between the ribs.
Yeah, Toji is a yakuza through and through—never tried to be anything else.
But he’s not Sukuna.
And the idea of you thinking he was?
That’s the one thing he can’t stomach.
Not when he’s clawing so desperately for something different.
Something better with you.
“Gumi will get real cookin’ lessons when he’s older though.”
Toji tossed the words out like they’re nothing, but the implication is obvious.
“Wanna give the kid a shot at least. Hard, though…when this is the safest place for ‘em.”
That might’ve been the most honest thing he’d ever said to you, and it spilled out before he could even dress it up with his usual bullshit.
Toji knew you didn’t want this life Yuji either—but kids like them don’t just inherit yakuza legacies, they get swallowed by them.
Yet with you, for some reason Toji saw the blocks lifted and pathforward to end the cycle of chaos.
He’d always be tied to yakuza, but his kid?
Gumi could be normal—especially, with you as his mom.
“And what about Megumi’s mother? Is it not safe with her?”
Toji froze.
It was a reasonable question given the turn of conversation, but it unexpectedly sliced through Toji all the same.
For once, he was the one to look away. No clever quip, no smirk to hide behind.
Toji crouched low, reaching into the cupboard beneath the counter to retrieve the portable grill.
“She’s dead.”
Zero pleasantries cushioned his words, so your shock and the subsequent sounds of spilled ingredients weren’t surprising to Toji who rummaged deep in the cabinets.
You scrambled to grab a rag, mumbling something about being sorry and not meaning to pry.
But Toji barely listened, craving a cigarette he couldn’t have with you and the kids around, so he’d settle for another whiskey instead. When he stood, your eyes found him instantly—soft and full of concern.
He didn’t deserve your sympathy, but like hell if he didn’t crave it all the same.
Thank fuck you were still on the other side of the island, because this time?
Toji wouldn’t have resisted. He’d have kissed you.
The aching for what he’s lost and what he then hungered for slammed together like a 6 car pile up. He knew he had to keep it cool before every piece of fragmented emotion in his life scattered across the kitchen.
“Don’t worry about it. Just childbirth complications. No one’s fault—you know the risks.”
The words came out easily, but they tasted like rust on Toji’s tongue as he set the grill on the kitchen table.
The silence that followed the intense revelation wasn’t cold—but it was still a bit awkward nonetheless.
For once, Toji was off his game.
Floundering in the weight of shit he didn’t usually let in.
Unforgiven emotions seem to crawl out whenever you’re near.
But you stayed.
You cleaned up the milk.
You didn’t run—even though Toji knew you probably considered it over a dozen times by then.
And that fucking had to mean something, he knows it does.
Thankfully, the kitchen is a more forgiving environment and it wasn't long before a homey routine took over, softening the aftermath of your conversation.
Flicking on the grill, the iron hummed as flames licked across metal. Toji finished setting the table, but his eyes stayed on you. Cocoa and matcha thickened the air as you turned on the oven, moving gracefully as if this kitchen was your own.
You hypnotized Toji, your hips swaying to the beat of your hum, lost in some tune only you could hear.
You were oblivious to how much of your bare back you were showing him, the thin fabric clinging to your waist and pulling taut over your ass when you leaned over the counter.
His gaze followed the curve of your spine, more hungry for your tender flesh to be on his tongue than any rare cut of meat he could have prepared, and Toji carelessly fell back into the well-practiced pattern of watching you when you didn’t know he was looking.
“Here...”
Heh, or maybe you did that time?
You finally broke the silence, extending the mixing spoon behind you without turning around.
“...come and taste it. Tell me if it’s too sweet.”
Toji didn’t bother with any damn spoon though, closing the distance, his broad chest brushed against the bare skin of your back.
With a sharp inhale, you immediately straightened, yet Toji remained unfazed as he leaned over you.
Peering into the dark thick mixture, Toji didn’t hesitate to slide two fingers knuckle-deep into the mixing bowl.The languid yet intentional swirl of his digits scooped up the batter in one steady flick, like he was well familiar with stirring up something else that could be just as sticky and sweet.
Careful to collect every last drop, Toji brought the batter to his lips and devoured it completely.
“Mmmmm.”
Toji lets out a low, drawn-out groan that rumbles deep from his chest, the sound warm and heavy as it fans down the back of your neck—making you squirm. And if the way your thighs instinctively press together is any indication, that heat is pooling in your pussy too.
The taste is utter perfection.
But instead of saying so, he let the gluttonous slurps and wet, lewd smacks of him so crudely polishing his fingers clean fill the air between you—each obscene sound making it harder for you to stay still.
From his angle, Toji had a perfect view of your chest, watching the supple jiggle of your pretty mommy tits when a shiver rolled through you.
Toji couldn’t wait to eat you just as nasty, and he imagined that you must be thinking about it too the way you bullied the brownie batter with flustered, over-eager whisks.
“So I take all of that means you like it then, hm Fushiguro?”
Your sass was back, quicker than usual, yet you still didn’t dare look at him.
Still embarrassed, huh?
“...It’s Toji…”
Toji smirked, quickly dipping his pinky as you tried to bat his hand away, but he managed to grab some regardless, popping it into his mouth as he dodged the hand towel you threw at him.
He chuckled. Although he enjoyed the taste, Toji would’ve rather had you straddling his face right then, letting him lick your creamy pussy batter straight from the source.
But your delectable desert would do for now. Toji wants the tension to keep piling, to wind you tighter until you finally pop.
It’ll be worth the wait.
“Oi!”
Toji’s brow quivered as you spun around to face him.
“You never gave me an answer. No complaining once it’s done if you don’t like it—”
But your scolding fizzled as you closed the distance, noticing the mess all over his face.
“Tsk, oh look at you!”
Huffing, you march towards him.
“You’ve got more batter around your mouth than in it, ya know?”
Toji shrugged, the dark smear of batter still glistening over his scar in the light as the corner of his lips twitched in amusement.
There’s no second guessing in your demeanor as you stand toe-to-toe with him.
“Seriously—what are you, an infant? Jeez, even Yuji’s not this messy!”
Toji let you scold him. He wants this part too—having someone care about him enough to nag.
But then you did something neither of you expected.
You wet your thumb on your tongue and leaned in, swiftly swiping across his lips and still without thinking, you brought your thumb to your lips to quickly lick it clean.
“There! I—”
The words died in your throat.
Toji reveled in the way the realization flickered across your face, syncing perfectly with the sharp hitch of your breath the moment it dawned on you.
For once, you were the one who crossed the line.
Not only did you step into his territory, but you groomed him so intimately without even realizing.
Yeah, there it fucking is.
The initiative Toji was looking for. When you’d be the one to willingly wander a little too close to the edge, not knowing he was waiting in the shadows to pull you all the way in.
Toji is glad he’s waited until this moment to tear you apart.
Ding!
The motherfucking rice cooker timer.
“Ah! R-Rice is ready, and I should really get these in the oven, you whispered quickly, and while Toji didn’t stop you, he did track every step you took.
Oh you’ve unleashed him now, mama.
Toji’s jaw tightened, pulse hammering.
He’d been patient. He’d laid his traps.
But that night? That was where the chase ended.
It wasn’t a matter of if you’d be his.
It was a matter of when you’d stop pretending you weren’t already.
However, the least he could do was give you the courtesy of a meal.
You’d need your stamina for how hard he was about to fuck you.
Sleeves rolled to his elbows, tongs in hand, Toji’s forearms flexed as he worked the grill. The first round of marinated meat and vegetables gently sizzled on the tabletop flame.
“Ooh, that smells so good even from here!”
Your voice gets closer as you make your way back to the table, taking the seat across from him.
The kitchen table is made for four, but with the grill and accompaniments taking over, it was the perfect size for two. Toji was thankful he never bothered with trifling things like a table cloth, which meant he could see everything beneath the smooth crystal top.
The moment you sat down, the high-slit dress revealed your thighs. Despite how you innocuously tried to equalize the hem back into place your attempted modesty did nothing but ensure Toji’s appetite was no longer for the food.
Toji manspread into his seat further and your eyes deliberately avoided looking at the impressive bulge resting shamelessly between his manspread legs.
He wasn’t even hard.
With a nervous laugh, you started with small talk, trying to look anywhere but at Toji’s cock.
Toji knew you were trying to act like this was normal.
Like this was just a casual dinner between neighbors.
But the sparks, the chemistry brewing between the two of you when finally alone was more than just an elephant in the room—it might as well have been Godzilla.
“Ya want some whiskey, mama? Goes well with meat… all kinds, ya know.”
Your eyes flicker upward as you shift, placing the napkin in your lap—more for a last ditch attempt at attempted modesty than manners, but Toji didn’t hide the way his eyes lingered on your thighs nonetheless.
“I wish.”
Your sigh is weary.
“But strong stuff means dumping milk, and with how much these boys eat…I can have a little sake though,if you’ve got it.”
Good. Toji hoped it would loosen you up again. He wouldn’t let you slip away next time.
“Coming right up—anything or my #1 supplier.”
“Fushiguro—when you say it like that, you make it sound like a drug deal!”
Thankfully this time there's a playful mirth in your tone.
Oh your milk? Might as well be a drug—it’s like straight crack to Toji.
You didn’t need to know that though, so Toji only reminded you for the hundredth time to call him ‘Toji’ as he chuckled, sharing in your amusement for an entirely different reason.
Retrieving the sake, Toji poured you a generous cup and slid a piece of grilled wagyu onto your plate, standing close like a chef awaiting judgment.
“G’on try it, ma. Lemme how I did, eh? Shouldn’t kill ya.”
You nodded, a coy smile on your lips as you picked up the wagyu with the chopsticks, balking only when Toji told you the nama tamago, raw egg, on the side wasn’t meant for the grill but to dip the meat in.
Skepticism took over your face until you brought it to your lips for the first bite—the rich creaminess of the egg cooled and balanced the umami of the meat perfectly—and your eyes instantly closed as you savored it.
“Mmmmm.”
Your moan made Toji grip the tongs tighter.
Fuck.
That wasn’t the way he imagined first making you moan for the first time, but he’d take it. You’d soon be moaning even more deliciously for him once he had you the way he really wanted you.
“Good?”
You nodded obliviously, mouth full and humming in approval.
Feeling confident, Toji brandished a fanged smile. “Heh, wit ya moanin’ like that I bet it is—knew you’d like it raw.”
You nearly choked, coughing into your napkin as a bit of sauce dribbled from your chin.
You shot him a glare.
“Don’t ruin dinner.”
Ruin dinner? Toji?
What was with you?
As much as Toji enjoyed the chase—he’d follow you right into hell if you led him there—he was beginning to tire of your hot and cold act.
“What, like Sukuna did?”
Toji returned to his seat across from you.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
You went quiet at that.
Toji had no intentions of hurting your feelings nor did he want to mention Sukuna again for comparisons, but he did want you to get a little perspective on what actually ruined the night.
“You’re right…We were supposed to be celebrating our engagement, but here I am having dinner with another man.”
The chopsticks cracked in Toji’s hand. He deduced as much, but it still felt like a slap in the face hearing you confirm it aloud.
“Not only did Sukuna stand me up, I think…”
Delaying, you locked eyes with Toji. He could tell you were coming to terms with the words you were about to say.
“I think he might be cheating on me.”
Toji asked plainly.
“And if he is?”
Of course, Toji didn't realize just how loaded the question was until he said it. He meant it as ‘would you stay’, yet it has so many deeper indications, he felt your walls start to go up again.
“Then he’d be like every other man I know.”
Toji frowned at you lumping him in with Sukuna again—are you not past this already? Perhaps he had to take a stronger hand with you.
“Do ya not know me then ma?”
You blink at Toji before your face crunched-up in sarcastic disbelief.
“Ha! C’mon now Fushiguro, I know you’ve slept with more than half the women in this building. You’re hardly one to value monogamous relationships.”
Toji clicked his tongue, scoffing.
“Well, sure as fuck not someone else’s.”
“That much is obvious.”
Your eyes alighted with challenge as you dared to meet his own, the implications clear.
Touche.
Toji stewed as you returned to the meal in silence. His fingers curled tight around the edges of the table. It wasn’t rage stirring in his chest—just a swell of emotion he couldn’t easily name.
Frustration, maybe. Restlessness.
He wasn’t used to being provoked like this.
Never has he been so desperate for someone to understand him—not even his late wife, back when things were simpler. She never challenged him, never pushed. She accepted what he gave her at face value, took his truths as they came.
But you? You couldn’t. Not when you’d be damaged so badly by Sukuna.
It frustrated Toji as much as it turned him on.
But the gloves were off now.
You needed to know who he was and what he could give you.
“But I haven’t slept with her—that’s what you really wanted to know tho, right ma?”
Toji’s scarred lip upturns triumphantly when your eyes snapped to him. Your face says it all.
Bingo.
“That’s…”
You started in a rush, but slowed your words, choosing them carefully.
“That’s…really none of my business.”
Bullshit.
Toji huffed.
“So ya just care so much ‘bout the rest of the women here then, the ones who hate you?”
You bristled as your eyes flashed with indignation.
“Look, Fushiguro… not everyone is lyin’. With your rap sheet, someone could claim you slept with half of Tokyo last week and I would be inclined to believe them.”
Your words had more bite to them this time, but Toji heard enough of your arguing with Sukuna to know when you were baiting an argument.
Toji was no pushover, but he’d show you he could handle ya without all the screamin’, well screaming from fighting at least.
“Sure, okay ma, n’while they might have been telling the truth in the past, they would be lyin’ now. I haven’t slept with anyone in… months.”
You looked more than skeptical at Toji’s admission.
“Months?”
“Exactly 3 months, if ya wanna be technical, mama.”
Toji chuckled. He could see you do the math in your head that ‘3 months’ was how long you’ve been neighbors.
You rolled your eyes, grabbing another piece of meat off the grill.
“Again, that has nothing to do with me…”
Toji didn’t miss a beat.
“And if it did?”
The new look on Toji’s face was absolutely predatory in its lust. He saw your breath stutter as his fingers reached yours on the table.
Toji stopped just short of touching you.
“If it did have something—everything to do with ya…then what, ma?”
You didn’t pull away, but as you looked up to him, the look in your eyes was painful. Like he was the one who’d been causing all your hurt—when all he wants to do is give you everything.
“I-...it’s just—what are we doing here?”
Your voice was low this time, like you spent so much time arguing with Sukuna, you forgot how to have conflict any other way.
“Having a nice dinner that ya deserved tonight.”
Toji responded easily, but you were clearly done with games, pulling your hand away and placing it into your lap.
“That’s not what—look Fushiguro. I’m not sleeping with you.”
Toji’s chopsticks were ruined but that didn’t stop him from reaching over bare handed to pick a piece of meat off the grill and pop it into his mouth, smug.
“Did I ask ya to?”
Your brow furrowed, but your anger was defused, more exasperated than anything.
“You always are…well, suggesting it, in so many words.”
Toji couldn’t argue that. He was and he made that obvious enough to you.
But you weren’t the perfect picture of innocence yourself. You wouldn’t be sitting across from him right now if you were.
Either way, Toji is fed up with the cat and mouse tonight.
You wanted him to be that guy? Alright then.
If you needed another reality check, he’d give it to you—one you couldn’t deny.
Leaning forward Toji looked you dead in the eye.
“Ya know how many times I coulda fucked you already tonight ma? If all I really wanted was to wet my dick?”
Toji had to dig deep not to laugh then. The look you gave him like was like he was out of his fucking mind and had grown another head.
Toji didn’t say it to make you feel like a conquest though, he said it because it was true.
Toji could tell you were seething, fixing to launch into an argument again so he grabbed you for real this time. Anchored in place, Toji wound his hold tight enough around your wrist he felt your pulse race under his fingers.
“All this time—ya honestly think that's all I want?”
You gasped. He could tell you weren’t expecting him to follow up with that.
Toji could see your brain trying to process it all before you follow up with—
“What do you want then?”
Toji answered immediately, his hand left your wrist to interlace his fingers with yours.
“A wife.”
An answer that clearly caught you off guard, your face unreadable—though after a few moments, you simply shook your head.
“I’m getting married to Sukuna.”
You said it with such an air of finality—or were you just testing him?
Toji tried not to be mad at you. And he wasn’t. Not exactly.
It wasn’t your fault. Not when you were just holding on to the only guarantee you had left.
Maybe Toji was wrong—perhaps it was too early to lay his cards out on the table like that.
But Toji didn’t have the luxury of time with how things were going down in the organization.
Your overthinking is apparent as you seemed to be fighting an internal battle with yourself.
Fighting him, fighting Sukuna too.
But Toji wasn’t the enemy here.
Your hand still in his grasp, Toji ghosted over the indent on your ring finger. You had been wearing it for a while now if the tan surrounding the deep impression in your skin told him anything.
“Then why did ya take off y’er ring before ya came over?”
The look Toji gave you was piercing and from the way your eyes widened in horror, you likely hadn’t even realized you weren’t even wearing it.
Abruptly, you snatched your hand back as you rose from the table, nails splayed across the glass top to steady yourself before collecting your plate.
“Are you finished? It’s getting late, you cooked, I’ll do the dishes and… I’ll head out.”
You’d both barely ate.
Definitely running.
Toji got up but you stopped him before he could make a move towards you.
“Go.. just go clean up, okay? Take a shower Fushiguro, there’s still blood on your collar after all.”
Toji's head turned to the distant mirror on the wall.
Two specks? Fuck, he forgot about that.
Not prepared to see you just yet upon walking into his apartment. You’d seen it there all this time though and didn’t say anything…?
An unfamiliar moisture slicked Toji’s palms. Not even the first time he killed a man did he feel this anxious.
He did need a shower—a cold one, to cool off.
Maybe jack off too since he had just talked his way out of pussy tonight.
Or did he?
Regardless, he needed to regroup. Plan B for a dinner date went to shit…but he wasn’t done with you yet.
Toji kept his shower quick—he’d rather skip it entirely if you weren’t gonna be in it with him. But if following your orders proves he could listen, like a good husband would, then so be it.
Still, he didn’t want you gone before he saw you again. You owed him dessert—and one way or another, Toji was determined to get his piece of you tonight.
Yet despite all his trained instincts, panic gripped Toji when his own thoughts grew too loud—so loud he couldn't hear the subtle sounds of you still moving through his condo. It wasn’t until he finally exited the bathroom did the small clink of dishes in the sink cut through the silence was he sure you were still here.
With your back to him, it took little effort for Toji to slip behind you—quiet as a shadow as he approached.
You crouched low on your knees, reaching for an open cabinet where you were debating where to put the pot in your hands.
Toji crouched close behind you, his heady voice tickling your ears.
“Ya can just toss it in there, ma.”
With a cry, you jumped up too quickly, dropping the dish and losing your own balance in the process, but Toji was already anticipating this reaction. Reflexes quick as ever, Toji caught you, brawny hands around your waist.
His fingers splayed wide across your ribs, holding firm as the backs of his thumbs brushed just beneath the swell of your chest. Your tits hung heavy over the ledge of his knuckles, and Toji had to force himself not to slide his hands up just a little bit more—he was dying to feel how deep his fingers would sink into your jiggly mommy milkers if he squeezed them.
“Wha– Fushiguro! You scared the shi– oop, daylights out of me!”
“To-ji, ma.”
Toji lingered over the syllables, simmering in dark seduction as he hunched over you with his muscular arms taut like bars to cage you in at the sink.
Not even bothering to towel off completely, his slick raven strands stuck to his temples, its wetness shining under the kitchen lights. Water droplets were still rolling off of him, and Toji was amused by the way your gaze helplessly followed one slowly trailing down his tatted collarbone.
His upper body was on full display, and it was clear you were in awe of his sleeved tatts connecting across his chest—culminating in elaborate breastplates. Twin dragons dance over the hard plane of his chest, scales gleaming dangerously. Toji tattoos wrap around him boldly like armor, or rather chains, collaring him to his yakuza affiliations.
There was a small swell in your throat as your eyes continued lower, far further than the drop of water skimming down his torso. Toji followed how your eyes lingered on the ridges of his abs and traced the sharp V cut lines until they disappeared into the waistband of his grey sweats —shamlessly worn far too low on his hips.
Toji was never one for modesty, and he knew what he was doing, what effect his body has on women, and he was pleased to confirm you weren't immune. Although never in any of those times had he been so turned on by someone eyefucking him as he was then.
Towering with a dark predatory glare, he knew he was close enough for you to feel the steam still rolling from his body.
“Time t’pay up, ma,”
The threats in his words weren’t ones of violence, his lecherous intentions clear.
“Three months is a long time t’owe a yakuza. But I’d wait longer for ya…even if y’er killin’ me here.”
You bit your lip, eyes narrowed in a way that said you want to be annoyed. But Toji’s seen that look too many times. You were trying to keep your footing—still pretending.
“T-Toji, stop playin’, move. I gotta finish these dishes.”
You tried to brush him aside but Toji didn’t budge—nothing but muscles, heat and cocky defiance filling every inch of space between you.
As far as he was concerned, Toji hadn’t even begun to play with you yet.
“Dessert first, mamas.”
You arched a brow at him with a small laugh.
“Y-You’re doing the most. T-They’re right there.”
Your hand gestured lazily toward the cooling tray of matcha brownies on the counter, just within arms reach.
Toji didn’t even glance over. He was too busy watching the way your mouth curved when you tease him.
You actually thought you were still in control, that there was still an escape option—it was fuckin’ adorable.
“C’mon chef, present y’er dish, ya?”
The brief staredown ended in a dramatic sigh as you conceded. It was pure entertainment for Toji how you forcibly stretched yourself to the side, unwilling to turn at all with him over you lest you push yourself right onto him.
You slid the pan between the two of you like a shield,brownies already cut into neat little squares. 12 in total, the dark brownies had a greenish hue to them dusted in powdered sugar. You presented them with a smug little look that says, here you go, clearly hoping it’d force some space between the two of you.
But Toji didn’t budge—not even a little.
Instead, he hums confidently, pressing the pan’s edges flush between your bodies with a grin that was all teeth and dark promises.
“Nah. Feed me.”
He opened his mouth wide, lolling out with an ‘ah’ sound.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m starvin’, actually. Someone ended dinner early before I got t’eat.”
Rolling your eyes with a huff, one hand braced the pan between your bodies as you plucked out a brownie square with the other, bringing the sweet treat close to Toji’s mouth.
Toji leaned in slowly, savoring the stubborn little pout tugging at your lips from having to feed him as much as the bite itself. His leg slipped between yours, not pushing in yet, just enough so you’d feel the promise of tension winding tight between your thighs.
Toji’s eyes stay locked on yours, unblinking—drinking in every flicker of your lashes, every labored breath you took beneath the weight of his presence. He felt the tremor in your hand as he took the first taste, mouth enveloping the treat like he was tasting something decadent and forbidden.
His lips dragged against your fingertips, tongue curling to greedily lap at the lingering sweetness as he chewed.
Toji smirked to himself looking at your frozen state—like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, let alone resist.
About fuckin’ time too.
“Mmm…”
His groans rubbled deep in his chest when he took the last bite of brownie from your trembling hand.
“Fuckin’ delicious mama.”
Sniggers erupted from Toji as you attempted to snatch your hand back, but his fingers caught your wrist mid-flight and you yelped.
“Aht-aht,”
Murmuring, grip was tight and unyielding as he dragged your hand back toward his mouth.
“We ain’t done yet. Look at this dirty lil’ hand, ma.”
And before you can protest that it was Toji’s fault your hand was covered in fudge and crumbs—Toji’s thick tongue slid over your palm.
Wet and hot, the bumpy texture drug over the dips of your hand, curling into the creases like Toji was trying to memorize the shape of you with his mouth. His tongue snakes down to your wrist then licked his way back up and over your palm—tracing each knuckle and suckling at the space between your fingers with lewd, open-mouthed kisses.
You gasped, thighs clenching salaciously around his thigh that had now wedged itself right up against your cunt.
When Toji was deemed himself done cleaning your fingers his eyes didn’t miss a beat, zeroing in on your lips—still looking famished for more. An insatiable hunger in him that could only be filled by devouring every part of you.
Toji dipped in closer—so close that the water still clinging to his bangs began to drip.
“A-Ah, step back—you're getting me all wet!”
You jerked in surprise when a few cold droplets hit you, pan tilting like it would spill as a few brownies tumbled out of place.
“Heh, is that right, mamas?”
You squeaked upon realizing your phrasing. Toji just looks all the more devilishly smug and determined. He took the pan from your hands and tossed it on the counter.
“Well then mama—”
Toji’s eyes cascaded down the low halter of your dress, spying the crumbs that had tumbled down to collect between the swells of your breasts. The fudgy matcha stuck to your skin, along with more water droplets from Toji’s hair, making more of a mess Toji took delight in having to clean up for you.
“—let’s just see how wet she can get, hm?”
Not giving you a chance to object then, his arms left the counter to wrap around you. Groping your hips, his errant hands sunk into the sides of your high slits, eagerly landscaping across your flesh until he’s palming your bare ass cheeks apart.
Toji’s touch rendering you defenseless, your legs followed, opening wider to grind against his brawny thigh. Toji was pleased to find you pantiless like he thought—he could feel the soft squish of your fatma leaking, already soaking through his sweats.
Lowering to your chest, your scent hit him all over again, that warm vanilla mix he’s come to crave as he dragged his tongue through the valley of your breasts. Toji lost himself, chasing the taste of sugar and salt on your skin.
It was like music to Toji’s ears when you sighed, crying out as you arched to press yourself deeper into his mouth that worshipped the tender uncovered skin on the side of your breast like a sinner saved.
Eye level with your nipples, he pulled back only to savor the beads of milk pebbling through your thin silk dress, stimulated by your arousal.
Heh, you got wet for him in more ways than one. How good of your body to prepare him another meal.
He had to get you outta this dress first though. On a mission, Toji traced the stripe up the curve of your breast right up to your throat. Your fingers twisted into his damp hair, spurring him on with the green light he’d desperately been seeking for months.
“How could ya ever think y’er anything but fuckin’ perfect?”
Toji growls ragged against your neck. The comment was more for himself than you. He didn’t expect you to say anything right then anyway by how nicely you were quivering against him.
All Toji wanted to hear from you were your moans.
“You know, ma…”
Releasing one of your cheeks, his hand greedily palmed its way higher to cup the soft swell of your leaky tit. Toji’s thumb possessively swirled over your aroused nipple through the thin silk of your dress, now clinging like plastic to the wet lil nub, flicking it just enough to make your knees go weak and your thighs tighten around his own as you hump against him.
“I still don’t think you’re showin’ enough skin f’er my tastes...”
Leaving your breast, his thumb skated over to the seam of your dress, teasing the skin up to your shoulders before it hooked beneath the fabric strap to slide it down.
Your breath stuttered, hands leaving his hair to frame his face now millimeters away from yours.
“Wait, F-Fush-ii—”
Molded against him, your dress hung perilously off your body, silk catching on every curve as Toji dragged the second strap down slowly—exposing more of you with every inch.
“It’s Toji,”
He breathed huskily onto the shell of your ear.
“C’mon, be a good lil wifey f’er me, mamas…”
Nibbling from your earlobe down your neck, Toji’s feral lust boils to its peak at the thought of you finally uttering his name out of your lips.
“...and say it for me, yeah?”
His hot breath teased at your pulse, Toji gently planted a kiss before, slightly breaking skin and you cry out as he slurps at your skin until a bruise that, if you couldn’t see you sure as fuck would feel the next day, formed..
When Toji pulled back, he couldn’t tell if you were hesitating, or just too dazed to speak. Hips now eagerly reciprocating against his thigh, a trail of slick glued his soaked sweats to his skin.
Shit.
Looking at you lose yourself in pleasure just from his thigh, his cock throbbed angrily. Toji was quick to move, digging his fingers back into your hips as he hiked your leg over his hip, repositioning you so your sloppy lil pussy could then rut obscenely against the very stiff protrusion in his sweatpants.
The elicited pleasure-filled moans from you both, echoed off the tile as you very shamelessly dry humped in the middle of the kitchen against the sink.
Sweet fuck—everything feels good with you. Toji imagined fucking you for so long he’d thought he’d long have you bent over the counter, shoving all of his many inches into you as soon as he got the chance that night. Instead he was rubbing his cock on you like some fuckin’ horny loser ass teenager.
But Toji would bust right in his sweats soon if he didn't stop. Your eyes were already shut, lip bitten up in concentration and focusing all your efforts on getting off.
With a string of curses, Toji pulled away, propping you up on the sink and crouching on his knees between your spread legs, ruined silk fabric barely hiding your pussy from him.
His eyes rolled back at the scent of you. Your pheromones were potent and Toji licked his lips in anticipation.
Dry humping wouldn’t be enough if he had to prep you to take him.
But first…
“Say it, mama.”
You shivered, whining sweetly through shallow breaths, hands braced on either side of the sink to keep from collapsing. Still dazed, still aching, your hips kept rocking toward him, chasing release even as he denied you—until Toji wrapped his arms around your thighs and tilted you closer to his mouth.
“Say my name...then I swear I’ll make you feel so good you won’t stop fuckin’ screamin’ it.”
You nodded dumbly. So sweetly did your perfect lips part to say the two syllables he'd been dying to hear for the last 3 months.
“Pleaseee To—”
Click.
The door opened.
“Hello? You home? Fushiguro-san?!”
Toji froze as he heard the nanny in the entry way.
You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’.
So much for being at the fuckin’ hospital, spry old cockblockin’ bat.
And just like that, like a cold bucket of water doused on your form, you instantly snapped out of Toji’s trance. Reluctantly, Toji lets you untangle yourself from him, sparing you modesty then in the meantime.
He’d send the nanny on her way and then you both could get back to it.
Toji hid the absolute look of displeasure that threatened his features at the annoyance of being interrupted, feigning as much concern as he could muster as the nanny walked into the kitchen, hand all bandaged up.
“There you are! Oh and Fushiguro-san too!”
The sweet old woman didn’t seem to question Toji’s state of undress or why half your dress was wet.
Toji knows she’s walked into him doing worse before.
“Heard ya had an accident, thought ya be at the hospital still.”
The nanny explained how she unexpectedly ran into the organization's head doctor. They had done a house call for one of the pregnant women here who then suggested the doctor take the nanny to their office in Shinjuku to get patched up rather than spend hours in the ER.
Toji repressed an eye roll. Great. Just his fuckin’ luck.
Yet his mood only fully turned sour once you announced how late it was and that you needed to be heading back. Before he could even stop you, the nanny thanked you, saying she would head over with you to grab more milk for Megumi.
He was so close too.
Not all for naught though, the main plans were still on track. Moving pieces that would soon settle all into place, as long as he could keep certain players in check, he had failed in doing so multiple times that night though.
⟡
A sharp trill cuts through the fog of Toji’s thoughts.
This time it’s Sukuna's phone that is blowing up. Calls Toji knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore as the ringing abruptly ends your dispute.
No other noise is heard from inside your apartment.
Riiiiing…
Riiiiing…
Sukuna growls.
“Don’t—”
Toji still can’t see you from outside, but the defeat cracking in your voice is unmistakable.
“Don’t answer it. Ryo, please. Stay just here with us, with me?”
There’s a long pause, long enough for the persistent ringing to seem like a metronome to the exact moments that everything you were trying to hold onto would either crumble or be secured.
“I-I don’t even care you got some woman pregnant—I…shit I mean, of course I-I fucking do, I’m fucking livid! It’s just… we can figure it out—but only if you stay in Japan. Don’t go to Italy, they don’t need you like we do… Yuji and I need you here.”
Motherfucker.
All that time in the shadows, watching, waiting.
All that delicate orchestration—
And you still gave Sukuna a choice.
Despite everything Toij’s done over the past few months, all that’s been set in motion.
Everything still comes down to Sukuna.
God, you’d stay tangled with a man who never deserved you, a man who you don’t really love, simply because you’re too good of a woman not to try for the sake of your son—because maybe if Sukuna used even half of his determination for power and control to care for his family, he might be deserving of you both.
Toji knows he doesn’t have a perfect vision of what love is supposed to look like.
But this surely isn’t fucking it.
Fuck if your loyalty isn’t something holy though.
All of his senses honed, Toji’s mind is ready to pivot to a number of contingency plans at the drop of a hat, many that end with Sukuna’s blood painting the walls like he’s imagined doing many times previously.
However, when heavy footsteps clack across the marble flooring followed by the sound of the front door slamming shut, a decisive finality echoes through the silence, and Toji finally exhales.
You offered Sukuna your entire world—and the bastard still didn’t choose you.
He left you.
Something Toji vows to never do.
Toji wants to race over to your door, hell he’d jump over the balcony to get to you. But all that becomes unnecessary as you step outside onto your balcony again.
Barefoot and clearly not dressed for the chilly night air, you cross your arms tight—like if you hold yourself together hard enough, you won’t crack open completely—too lost in your thoughts to register the cold or even notice Toji watching you. He’s not even hiding this time.
Your gaze is solely locked on the sleek Mercedes idling on the curb, and it's not long before Sukuna appears, barking orders over the phone as he strides to meet Uraume who exits the drivers side, bowing low at his approach before opening the rear passenger door.
Yet just as Toji is about to claim victory, Sukuna pauses.
Sukuna’s hand clutches aggressively on the roof of the vehicle while the phone temporarily falls away from his ear. Toji’s eyes narrow as yours fill with specks of foolish hope—like you think he’d actually reconsidered that quickly and turn around.
But Toji knows better, this is no change of heart.
Toji can’t see Sukuna’s face, but he knows the gears are turning, contemplating what's before him and behind him.
Fucking bastard, get in the damn car.
Mere moments seem like an eternity to an assassin's eye who analyzes every detail of the scene before him in painful slow motion. Toji’s lungs burn with the need for a breath he doesn’t dare take as his fingers twitch anxiously around the cigarette in his hand.
Time finally resumes when Sukuna relents, swiftly entering and resuming his conversation.
Not sparing you a backwards glance as Uraume closes the door.
Toji waits for you to react, scream, shout after the car that quickly zooms off into the night—but you don’t.
You just stand there.
Empty.
Utterly defeated.
Toji hates seeing you like this. That’s not who you are.
Not the sharp-tongued girl who once shoved Yuji into his arms without even asking, not the woman who walked into a building full of vipers like you owned the damn place, who didn’t let anything slide, couldn’t be bought—and who for damn sure was anything but an easy fucking lay.
Giving you space to process, Toji simply watches you.
And you?
Where’s your head after all of this?
Well, you can’t remember a time you felt more unsure about where the fuck your life is going.
Even more than when you first told Sukuna, technically your employer at the time, that you were pregnant.
He’d never given you any promises of love or devotion, from the beginning, but he did say he’d take care of you.
Sukuna promised you wouldn’t have to worry about anything.
Yet all you find yourself doing lately is worrying.
Fuck this.
No sooner do you resolve those thoughts than the cold hits you all at once, carving sharp trails down your cheeks and dragging you back to reality. The ache in your chest threatens to pull you into despair. You shiver, breath catching—only then realizing how hard you’ve been crying.
A flicker of light catches your eye—the soft glow of a cigarette, its ember burning steady in the dark, drawing your gaze to Toji’s silhouette waiting silently in the shadows.
He’s staring at you intently—no doubt had been witness to the spectacle you just made of yourself, but his eyes hold none of the pity nor the resentment you expect after how you’d just ghosted him over the past two weeks after nearly fucking him in his kitchen.
The only thing you see is curiosity on his features, like he’s looking to you to give him the next play.
“Ma… ya alright?”
The ball, as it had always been, is in your court.
You sigh.
No, you weren’t. You were tired.
Tired of fighting and tired of feeling isolated.
Tired of giving everything and it still not being enough.
All to raise a well-adjusted non-criminal child—something you are doing all by yourself even with his father around.
You just wanted something that felt good.
Something you didn’t have to fight for, that came easy.
You simply shrug in response to Toji, wiping your tears away.Although his presence now is oddly comforting, you still didn’t want to cry in front of him. This wasn’t his burden, and you’d unfairly flirted with the idea of giving into his many advances—even if you’d only really recently started believing in his sincerity.
It wouldn’t be fair to lean on him now, now that you’d didn’t know where to turn. Especially, when you knew what he wanted.
Honestly, you had no idea if you even had the capacity to give that much in a relationship to anyone anymore—much less than if he still wants it with you.
And yet all things considering, the very last thing you want right now is to be alone.
“Um, but I could be okay—if you still have some of that whiskey for me that is?”
You take stock of Toji, who looks particularly cunning draped in shadows and cigarette smoke. Wholly unable to read him now when he’d been so transparent with you before. More anxiety builds as you don’t know what to do in the moment but ramble on.
“I-I have a lot of milk saved for Megumi so, um, I mean, I won’t fall short if I have to dump for a few days. I just need something stronger than sake this time ya know?”
Outwardly stoic, inside Toji is fucking buzzing as he tries to retain his cool but this moment is like the sun coming up after the longest fucking night in the world.
He doesn’t mean to make you spiral but he’s fighting the urge to let out a victorious warcry.
“It’s got y’er name on it mama, c’mon over. Bring the kiddo too, o’course.”
Relief is all over your face when he does speak and you spare Toji a timid smile.
“I’ll just be a few minutes, okay?”
Toji tips his head in acknowledgement.
“I’ll be here whenever y’er ready, ma.”
You nod, hanging back before going inside, bouncing once on your heels and lightly chewing your lip as you stare right at Toji.
“Thanks…ah, I…um, I really appreciate you being here for me... Toji.”
Toji billows out the last of the smoke as he exhales, flicking the dead filter over the balcony edge.
“Don’t mention it, ma. Anything ya need. I got ya. Always.”
Cheeks flushed as you nod, the door slides shut behind you a second later, leaving the balcony empty.
The grin Toji wears is wider than a Cheshire cat and his heart-pounds with a feral thrill of a hunter who’d been chasing at the heels of his prey that finally lay at his feet at long last.
Satisfaction uncoils through him more than the smoke coiling in his lungs. Your voice still lingers in the air, and he’s replaying it in his head.
‘...Toji.’
You said his name.
You finally said his fucking name and it sounded better anything he’s ever heard in his life coming off that sassy lil tongue of yours.
Just like that, everything locks into place as the weight of the longing in his chest dissolves.
Toji laughs. It’s lighthearted, almost carefree—but there’s a wild edge beneath it, a jagged undertone that’s just a bit too sharp to be sane.
It was bad enough you’d given Sukuna such a heartfelt ultimatum that if he were anything other than the cruel ice king he is he’d have broken. When Sukuna wavered to get in the car after walking out—that should have been the easy part, and yet that was the real test.
Toji thought she had fucked it all up for him again.
From the balcony’s tall height and the glare of the streetlights bouncing off the shiny black Mercedes, it was difficult to see anything other than Sukuna and Uraume in the dim street lighting.
Yet, Toji’s keen assassin eyes catch it without trouble—a pale, feminine hand reaching from the depths of the black sedan.
Your friend.
Her matte black nails flicked towards Sukuna in a flirty, beckoning gesture.
The big boss’s illegitimate daughter and Sukuna’s other woman—Yorzu.
He’d told her to leave this alone. That was taken care of.
Sukuna would be meeting her in the mountains before leaving for Italy.
Yet, her overwhelming jealousy and blindness for Sukuna’s affections makes her too reckless.
She couldn’t just stay in the shadows where she belonged.
She had to befriend you.
Had to mock you with her delusions of being pseudo engaged to Sukuna and make you think he was cheating on you.
Just like she had to show up tonight when she was supposed to be hiding away from any ‘assination’ attempts.
Toji knew Sukuna’s pause was out of surprise, and Sukuna wasn’t stupid.
Bitch just put their entire plan in jeopardy had Sukuna put two and two together right then.
Yet at the end of the day, Sukuna’s choices alone would only serve to prove the ultimate twist of the knife for you. It didn’t matter what the truth was, the reality still is he left you.
It’s the ultimate proof of why Sukuna doesn’t deserve you—and you didn’t need to see Yorozu in the car to know that.
Those two crazy fucks were better suited for each other anyway—who else but a sociopathic bitch would rip a 200 year old organization apart and cause a fucking internal war all for an equally bloodthirsty, psychopathic asshole.
Not that Toji feels bad for keeping all this from you necessarily, he considers it sparing you—just as he’d spared you the day he first met and fell for you.
Yorozu wasn’t happy about that, but ultimately as long as the path for Sukuna was clear, she didn’t care how Toji got you out of the way.
*ding-dong*
Right on time.
Cracking his neck, Toji makes his way to the door where you are waiting for him.
Fate had already destined your life to be in his hands—who gives a fuck about how it all exactly played out?
Yorozu thinks she’s using him to steal your story, but your ending was never with Sukuna.
Toji knows the endgame was always meant to be with him.
Opening the door, Toji spies you, a nappy bag in one arm andYuji in the other. A tired small smile on your face.
You never looked more ready for him to swoop in.
And if anyone tries to rewrite his ending?
Well, fuck em’.
Toji will gladly rip out the pages.
Fuck a pen, he’ll start the next chapter with a bullet.
⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.
p4, the final chapter next! toji about to fuck you six ways from sunday jchsdfchjsd. i already has 9k worth of notes, dialogue, chucks of written smut, etc to incorporate to tie everything together. so just know i won't have to start from scratch there but because of me shifting gears to kinktober (with the goal of finishing it finally this year lmfao), im planning on releasing p4 on or before Toji's bday this year. however, if you want more yandere in the meantime there is hannibal!nanami and invisible man!gojo to look forward to next month!! xx, kali.
special mentions: shout out to @buttercupblu143 for taking a red pen to this shit because i have the grammar of a 2nd grader and my eyes glaze over after 8k words lolol. also shout out to @yung-notorious who listened to be talk about this plot since last nov.
