Whenever you touched me, I knew you were comparing me with Rebecca. Whenever you looked at me or spoke to me or walked with me in the garden, I knew you were thinking, "This I did with Rebecca," and this and this. Oh, it's true, isn't it?
Rebecca (1940) dir. Alfred Hitchcock
you left him before. can you leave him again with a baby on the way?
synopsis: divorcing a stubborn dickhead like Ryomen Sukuna was probably the most difficult thing you ever had to do. but what were you supposed to do when your husband had practically become a stranger considering most days he spent more time at work than he did at home? and when he was home, half the time he'd rather sleep on the couch than in your bed? you didn't hate him. but you didn't love him anymore either. maybe you would have moved on. but when one last night together ends up with more than just a memory after you get two little lines on a pregnancy test, you discover you might not be able to get rid of him after all.
pairing: ex-husband!sukuna x pregnant!reader (also featuring best friend!geto)
content: mdni, mostly angst, some domestic fluff, divorced-to-remarried, complicated relationships, messy feelings, accidental pregnancy, so much regret, misunderstandings, breaking up and making up, gruff and grumpy sukuna who misses his wife, soft geto trying to steal her from him
a/n: lovely art by @winterrbluess !! part of my community event <3
Where did everything go wrong?
Sukuna stared at his home screen like it was actually you. As if all he had to do was think hard enough about you for your name to pop up on his phone, even if it was just to call him a dickhead, curse his existence and scream that you wished you'd never taken his last name.
But he knew you wouldn't call. Wouldn't text.
You didn't want anything to do with him anymore.
And it was all his fault.
His absence. His distance. His stupid stubborn front he'd put on the shield himself from the how much it sucked to spend so much time away from you.
It wasn't supposed to end up like this.
He thought he was trading a few brutal years of burning the torch for a better future with you. Climbing and clawing his way to the top so he could enjoy the view with you next to him.
Okay, maybe, that was just an excuse to cover up how much he felt like he wasn't good enough when he was standing by your side. How shitty it was to see your friends looking down at him, knowing full fucking well they were probably whispering in your ear that you could do better, that you deserved better.
And the worst part was they were right.
You left him.
Dropped the divorce papers and disappeared. Neatly removed yourself from his life like you'd never been a part of it at all. And on nights like this, where he drank half a bottle of scotch, stuck alone in an apartment that didn't even have a hint of your scent left, none of your stuff cluttering his closet or sitting on his shelves, he could almost convince himself you didn't exist. Except for the fact he couldn't stop staring at your photos like it was the last proof he had that once upon a time, you loved him.
He wasn't stupid enough to think you still did.
No, you were probably back at whatever pretty place you picked out for yourself, somewhere with big windows and sunshine, curled up on your couch or sprawled out in bed. Maybe talking on the phone with Shoko, telling her all the little details of your new life he hadn't managed to dredge out of you.
He had one shot.
A single second chance. Spotting you across the bar like a scene out of a fucking movie, nearly shoving a guy over to get to you right as you downed a shot you almost spit out when you saw him. Wiping your mouth and looking over your shoulder like you were about to run away when he snagged your wrist and begged you to give him five minutes. For old time's sake.
Sukuna still didn't know how he managed to talk you into coming back to his place. He told himself you missed him too. Sold himself lie after lie like it would make it any less painful to wake up the morning after without you in his arms.
Was the sex not good?
Or had you decided again that he wasn't good enough?
Seething silently while he showered, chewing the inside of his mouth raw when he had to return to work, walk back down the halls he'd basically thrown you away for.
What good was the money he made now that he couldn't spend it on you?
Well, technically, he tried, throwing alimony offers at you like candy, but you declined everything.
You were done with him.
And he was pathetically, uselessly, completely in love with you.
It didn't matter if the word ex was in front of it. How was he supposed to stop seeing you as his wife? How was he meant to look forward to a future you weren't in?
His pining was pointless.
He knew that much. Knew that while he was wishing you were back in his bed, your fingers sifting through his hair while he laid on your lap, you might already be moving on.
Might have forgotten the years you were his in favor of being someone else's.
He unlocked his phone, typing in your birthday for his code as he swiped through apps until he found one he was embarrassed to even open. Changing to a spam account he specifically created after you cleared yourself out of his life. When you blocked him from all the social media you used to beg to post him on.
Tonight though, he wasn't looking at your page.
No, he was looking at the one person who probably hated him more than you.
Suguru Geto couldn't fucking stand him from the first day you brought him around - and made a point in reminding him who was there for you first. Who you belonged to first. Touching you in ways that weren't platonic, trying to push buttons just to see how much he could piss Sukuna off before he started a fight. Threw a punch. Threatened to break his fingers for putting them on you.
You always ended up scolding him for it, pouting at him and trying to goad him into getting along with your absolute asshole of a best friend.
Oblivious to the fact he was dying to fuck you.
Defending the dickhead despite his sly little smirks and smug remarks, but Sukuna still backed off, told himself that he was the one whose arm you were on, whose ring was on your finger.
If he could go back in time, there was a lot he'd fucking change. But first?
He'd break that pretty face of his, bust his lips before he could murmur the terrible things about him Suguru absolutely peddled inside your cute head.
Part of him was tempted to do it now. Wait outside his work and catch an assault charge. It would feel good for a second. An hour or two. More probably, consider how hot the rage burned in his chest when he clicked on that prick's story to see you there, glossy lips pushed out in a pout, standing on the sidewalk of some fancy restaurant and wearing his jacket.
He just couldn't risk you hating him any more than you already did.
"What are you going to do?"
That really was the question, wasn't it?
Tell Sukuna? Hide it from him? If you did, for how long? Forever?
"You don't have to make any decisions now," Suguru continued softly, his hand slipping underneath where his jacket was draped over you, rubbing soothing circles over your back as you stepped inside his apartment, dropping shopping bags on the floor.
You felt sorta bad. Guilty, almost.
He spent the entire day spoiling you, taking you out for nice meals and shopping at all your favorite stores, all soft and understanding even though you were sure he was probably disappointed in you for doing exactly what you said you wouldn't do the day you divorced Sukuna.
You had promised you were done. Finished with that chapter of your life. Choosing yourself for once.
Just to go back to your favorite bad habit and turn your ex-husband into your baby daddy.
And still, despite the months he spent wiping away your tears while you whined about missing him and comforting you when you cried, he still reassured you. Reminded you that he wasn't going anywhere.
Sukuna could never find time for you.
But Suguru promised that all his time was yours.
"You can say it," you murmured under your breath, slipping off your shoes and taking off his jacket. He took it from your hands, hanging it up on the hook as he pretended not to know what you were talking about.
"Say what?"
"That I'm an idiot," you whispered under your breath.
He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he cupped your cheek and made you look up at him. "Don't call yourself that."
"But I am," you argued. "I shouldn't-"
"You made a mistake," he spoke firmly, but there wasn't the judgement there you kept waiting for. You didn't know why you wanted it. Why your heart kept thrumming so hard against your rib cage like you were expecting him to break it too. "But it's okay."
"It doesn't really feel okay right now," you swallowed hard, discomfort pricking the longer his fingers lingered on your face. But you didn't want to pull away either. Craved his warmth, how soft his palm felt, free of callouses or rough skin. "I don't know what to do."
"Whatever you decide," Suguru softly said. "I'm here."
He didn't have to say it for you to know how his sentence ended. You could see it in the little crinkles by his eyes, the small upturn of his smile when he looked at you.
Suguru was here, and he wasn't going anywhere.
"Do you think it'd be stupid to keep the baby?" You asked, tilting your head thoughtfully. You'd put on a front all day. Told yourself you were fine. But there were only so many concerned glances and casual touches you could take before you started to crumble.
"Not if you want it," he hummed, brushing back a loose strand of your hair as you sighed. "You won't have to do it alone."
"I don't know how Sukuna will take it," you breathed, biting your bottom lip as you tried to picture his reaction. He didn't want the divorce - but if he couldn't spare his days for you when you were his, you couldn't imagine he'd be able to spend his nights changing diapers and making bottles.
Or perhaps it would go the other way, and he'd go overboard trying to play father of the year to win you back as his wife.
You didn't know which was worse.
"I wasn't talking about him," Suguru lightly scoffed, one corner of his lips curling up higher than the other as his thumb traced over your cheekbone. "What about me?"
my blog was marked as mature due to someone reporting me so reblogs + comments are even more appreciated than usual <3 gonna get this fic uploaded on ao3 and backing up most of my fics there so be safe
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