sukuna was used to getting hit on. normally, he flat out rejects anyone that even makes an attempt to flirt with him. tonight he's taken you on one of your usual date nights, but imagine his surprise when the woman who approaches your table is hitting on you instead of him!
"ryo. ryo, ryo, ryo, i don't know what to get!" you pout, extending a leg underneath the table to graze your husband's calf as he grunts, brows pinched together in concentration as he stares down at the menu
"doesn't matter. i'm ordering half the stuff they have here anyway... you hungry for dessert too?" he questions, and you give him a deadpan look before he dramatically rolls his eyes, eliciting a giggle from you that has the corner of his mouth tipping upwards in a smirk
"fatty," he murmurs, and you make a point to dig the tip of your heel into his shoe, yet even through the pain, he maintains that annoying grin, and you shake your head with a laugh
the restaurant sukuna chose to take you out to tonight was located on the outer edges of the city near the water. your seating is overlooking the ocean, and you're not sure where you should stare—either at the lapping waves shimmering underneath the sparkling sun, or at your husband (an equally irresistible sight). he's wearing a tight black shirt with the first few buttons open, revealing the intricate details of his tattoos and the large expanse of his muscles and chest
a waitress eventually approaches your table. she's pretty—tall, lean, and wearing a dark red lipstick that suits her well—and you feel your heart sink a bit. you're sure she was staring at your table earlier, and you'd already assumed she was keeping an eye out on sukuna. almost subconsciously, you sit a little taller in your chair as she greets you two
"hello! i hope you guys are doing well. what can i get started?" she starts in an extra sweet voice, and you avoid her eyes and instead drum a single manicured finger against the table to distract yourself
you know you have nothing to feel insecure about, but anyone would feel a bit down if attractive women were constantly hitting on their husband, right?
without looking up, sukuna starts
"i'll have a plate of crab cakes, four fish tacos, one chicken marsala, one miso marinated black cob, two fettuccini pastas, one lobster ravioli, and one lava cake—and the center of it better not be undercooked. my wife doesn't like whenever it happens and i want her dessert to be nothing short of perfection." sukuna finishes, and the waitress looks genuinely distressed as she quickly jots down everything he said
"uhm, and all that is for just the two of you?" she questions hesitantly, and sukuna's gaze snaps up with a scowl
"yeah. and?"
you try to stifle your laughter as she quickly shakes her head with a smile, still writing everything down. your husband was... a bit of a big eater.
"no, no, i was just wondering— oh. did you say wife?" she frowns, and you try not to wince at twinge of disappointment in her voice
"if you were thinking i'm single, you're out of luck." sukuna states boldly, not bothering to give her any further attention as he folds up the menu and hands it to her
"uhm... i wasn't wondering about you. i was wondering about you." — and suddenly her gaze is pinned on you, and your eyes widen a fraction
"me?" you squeak in disbelief, and she smirks. it's cocky and slanted and it instantly reminds you of your husband's habit when he's teasing you, and you can't even try to hide the smile on your face as you cover it with your hand, caught off gaurd and embarrassed
"yes, you. you are beautiful. so, are you happily married to this guy, or just marri—"
"that's enough." sukuna stammers, and he looks genuinely mortified by the look of curiosity on your face. you giggle, shaking your head
"thank you... you're very beautiful too." you smile, and she actually blushes at your words, telling you she'll be out with your food soon as she walks back inside the restaurant with a lot more pep in her step than before
sukuna reaches over to pull your hand out of your lap and onto the table, and he adjusts your ring with furrowed brows as you giggle
"ryo—"
"i can't believe that woman's audacity—hitting on my wife! when i get home, i am writing the most deplorable review of this restaurant." he snaps as you let out a sudden laugh
"don't be silly, you big grump! she was nice," you smile, and he drags a hand down his face as if this was the worst day of his entire life.
sukuna wasn't used to women hitting on you. no man ever tried because all six feet of your husband was always looming behind you like a guard dog just waiting to rip someone's head off for looking at you too long, but he never suspected he had to look out for women too!
his brows are furrowed as he rubs a thumb over the diamond on your ring finger, and your gaze softens before you cradle his own larger hand in your own and press a kiss onto his knuckles. he blinks at you a few times before turning away with a huff, the tips of his ears a light shade of pink
"you're mine. you'll never indulge in anyone that tries anything with you, right?" he murmurs, still staring at your interlocked hands as you pout
"of course not." you promise gently, and he seems satisfied by your response as he holds your hand firmly in his own
after a moment of thought, he opens his mouth once again
"do you think we should make out to confirm our status for everyone else here?"
Please DO NOT read if you’re sensitive to these topics.
AN: This piece explores very dark and sensitive themes. It blurs the line between love, obsession, and psychological horror, focusing on Itadori’s fractured identity and Y/N’s inability to escape. If you are uncomfortable with manipulative relationships, obsession, or psychological torment, please skip this one. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
Masterlist
The battlefield was nothing but ruins now.
Broken concrete, collapsed towers, and the faint stench of charred curses that refused to fade no matter how many weeks passed. It was supposed to be the end—the end. The fight that decided everything.
And it had been.
Gojo. Nanami. Megumi. Too many names to count. Faces you couldn’t stop seeing in your dreams. They were all gone, swallowed by the kind of death that didn’t leave space for goodbyes.
And you—
You had walked out alive, but not whole.
Your voice had shattered that day. It wasn’t just silence that claimed you, but the brutal irony of it—because your voice had been your power. Screams sharp enough to split curses into ribbons, words heavy enough to bend energy into form. You had screamed until your throat tore, until your own ability burned you from the inside out. And when the smoke cleared, nothing came out of your mouth but breath.
Not a word. Not a sound.
Yuji had been the first to reach you, his body trembling, blood dripping from cuts he didn’t even notice. He caught you before you hit the ground, clutching you so tightly you thought your ribs might crack. His eyes were wild, red-rimmed, horrified.
“Y/N—your voice—no, no, no, this is my fault.” His words tumbled out, frantic, breaking. “I shouldn’t have eaten those damn fingers. If it wasn’t for me—if Sukuna hadn’t—everyone’s gone because of me. And now you, too…”
You tried to speak, but nothing came. The ache in your throat was raw, empty, final.
So instead, you pressed your hand weakly against his, squeezing his wrist with what little strength you had left. Your way of saying I’m still here. Don’t break.
He stared at you like you had just pulled him from drowning. His grip tightened, desperate, like if he let go you’d vanish with the rest of them. His forehead pressed against yours, and his voice cracked apart into something barely human.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again and again, the words spilling into your silence. “I’m so damn sorry…”
You stayed that way until the fires burned out around you. Two survivors in a graveyard of friends, clinging to each other because there was nothing else left.
And now—
The world was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that left space for his smile, for the way he shoved a ridiculous plush keychain in your face, grinning like a child.
“Look, Y/N! Doesn’t it look like me?” he said, waving the silly thing, his laughter too bright for the shadows it came from.
You blinked at it once, then at him. His grin stretched wider, like he was waiting for you to roll your eyes. Instead, you let the corner of your lips twitch into the faintest smile.
His eyes lit up instantly.
“There it is,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Knew I could make you smile.”
He stuffed the keychain into his pocket, still grinning, before plopping down on the couch beside you. His knee bumped yours—deliberate, playful.
“Alright, serious question,” he announced suddenly, leaning closer like he was about to let you in on a secret. “What do you want for dinner tonight? Ramen? Curry? Or…” He squinted, pretending to think hard. “Do we finally go wild and try my cooking?”
You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.
He laughed immediately, hands flying up in mock defense. “Hey, don’t give me that look! I’ve improved, I swear. No more burnt rice, promise!”
The expression on your face softened despite yourself, your silent skepticism enough to make his laughter ring louder. He reached out, brushing his hand lightly over yours, the touch warm, grounding.
“You don’t have to answer,” he said after a beat, his voice gentler now. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
And just like that, the moment passed—sweet, harmless, ordinary. Nothing wrong at all.
At least, that’s how it looked on the surface.
Dinner talk didn’t end with his silly suggestion. Yuji never let things end easily; he always found a way to keep the conversation alive, even if you couldn’t answer. He leaned back against the couch, legs sprawled out like he owned the entire space, and tilted his head at you with that boyish, expectant grin.
“Okay, hear me out,” he said, lifting a finger dramatically. “We could order sushi. But! Last time we ordered sushi, I got food poisoning. Or maybe it was the wasabi’s fault—seriously, how was I supposed to know that much green stuff wasn’t guacamole?”
He laughed at his own joke, so hard his shoulders shook. You only shook your head lightly, hiding the small smile that tugged at your lips behind your hand. He noticed, of course he did, and his laughter softened into something quieter, more intimate.
“I like when you do that,” he murmured suddenly. “When you try not to laugh. You’re so bad at hiding it.”
You blinked at him, a little startled at the shift in tone. His eyes lingered on you a moment too long before he broke into another grin, playful again. “Anyway! We’re not repeating sushi night. So it’s ramen, curry, or Yuji’s special mystery dish. Final vote?”
Your hand hovered in the air before you pointed toward the takeout menus stacked by the counter. Ramen.
He jumped to his feet like you’d just given him the winning answer on a game show. “Ramen it is! Excellent choice, Y/N. I’ll make the call—no, wait, you sit there, don’t move, I’ll handle everything.”
You didn’t move. You rarely did when he got like this, bounding from one corner of the room to the other, too full of energy to contain. You just watched, silent, taking in every little detail—the way his voice pitched higher when he tried to sound persuasive on the phone, the way he paced in wide circles while waiting for the line to connect.
When he finally hung up, his excitement hadn’t dimmed. He dropped onto the couch beside you again, this time leaning so close his shoulder pressed into yours. “Twenty minutes. Think we can survive until then?”
You tilted your head, pretending to consider it, before giving a very small shrug.
—
The wait wasn’t unbearable. Yuji had a way of filling every empty second, even when nothing was happening. He grabbed the remote, flipping through channels with exaggerated commentary, like a sports announcer calling out the highlights of your evening.
“And here we have… yet another boring drama,” he groaned, dragging the words out as he flicked past it. “Seriously, who even watches these anymore? Oh! Cartoons! Cartoons are always a safe bet, right?”
You gave him a side look, deadpan, as he stopped on some over-the-top animated show with voices far too loud for how tiny the characters looked. He laughed, catching the faintest twitch at the corner of your mouth, and settled in like he’d just scored a victory.
So the two of you sat there, bathed in the glow of the screen. His running commentary continued, sometimes stupid, sometimes so ridiculous you couldn’t help the small huffs of laughter that slipped out. And every time, he noticed—pointing at you, grinning like he’d just uncovered a rare treasure.
By the time the knock at the door came, Yuji was already on his feet like a rocket, tearing to grab the bags with an energy that would’ve been embarrassing on anyone else. He returned seconds later, arms piled high with steaming containers, setting them out across the low table.
“Okay, okay, look at this spread,” he announced, waving his arms like a magician revealing his grand trick. “Best ramen in town, guaranteed. And—oh! They gave us extra gyoza. Jackpot.”
You shook your head, smiling faintly as he handed you chopsticks with the care of someone passing along a priceless artifact. He immediately tore into his own bowl, slurping noodles noisily, groaning with exaggerated delight.
“This is heaven,” he declared through a mouthful, pointing at you with his chopsticks. “You made the right call. Genius. Certified ramen expert, that’s you.”
You rolled your eyes, amused, and shook your head again. He grinned wider, leaning across the table to nudge your arm. “Don’t deny it, Y/N. You’re proud of yourself right now.”
You chuckled under your breath, the sound soft but enough to make him beam. Dinner carried on like that—his endless blabbering, your quiet smiles and small gestures. For a moment, it was easy to pretend this was all life would ever be.
Until your phone buzzed.
The sound was small, but sharp against the warmth of the evening. Your gaze flicked to the device resting beside you, the screen lighting up with a notification. Yuji followed your line of sight, his chewing slowing as he tilted his head.
“What’s up? Who’s it?”
You picked up the phone, thumb hovering for a second before you turned the screen toward him. A message. Just one. From Shoko.
"How are you holding up? Are you eating? Sleeping?"
Yuji’s eyes softened as he read it, but before he could say anything, you pulled the phone back, your fingers flying across the screen. A tired smile touched your lips, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, as you typed out a response. The expression was different—gentler, aching, like a window had opened somewhere far away, back to Jujutsu High, back to people you would never see again.
Yuji watched in silence, chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth. He shifted a little, hand lifting toward his neck, scratching at the skin there with sudden awkwardness.
When you set the phone down again, exhaling softly, your smile still lingered. But it wasn’t for him.
He swallowed, his throat tight.
“Shoko, huh?” His voice was casual, but the hesitation cracked through the words. “She… she must miss you.”
You only nodded once, brushing a strand of hair back from your face. That tired smile stayed, fragile but real.
Your phone buzzed again while you ate, the screen dimly glowing between the dishes. After a moment of hesitation, you tapped it open, typed quickly, then slid the device across the table toward him.
_I’m thinking of meeting her… and the others at Jujutsu High. It’s been a while._
Yuji blinked down at the words, chopsticks frozen halfway to his mouth. His eyes flickered to yours, wide and caught off guard. For a beat too long, he didn’t move.
Then, as if remembering himself, he let out a quick, nervous laugh and bobbed his head three times in rapid succession, exaggerated like he understood perfectly. “Yeah! Yeah, totally. Makes sense.”
But the way he suddenly shoveled noodles into his mouth, chewing fast and avoiding your gaze, told a different story. You tilted your head at him, lips tugging downward in a quiet sigh, but you didn’t push. Instead, you turned back to your food, letting the silence hang between the clink of chopsticks and the hum of the TV.
The next morning came with soft sunlight spilling into the apartment. You moved around the room, pulling clothes from drawers, setting aside your bag, sliding little necessities into place. Yuji was there, of course—he was always there—but he wasn’t himself. No rambling, no jokes, just the sound of him shifting his weight and the low rustle of fabric as he stood by the door, watching you.
You finally tilted your head at him, brows furrowed, that silent expression asking, _What’s wrong, you silly?_
He blinked, startled out of his haze, then rubbed the back of his neck, gaze dropping to the floor. “Nothing,” he muttered quickly, voice too small for him.
You chuckled softly, shaking your head at his obvious lie before turning back to your bag. Zipping it closed, you reached for a dress, holding the fabric up against yourself as if testing the color. His eyes followed you, lingering longer than they should have, and when you glanced back at him, his lips parted hesitantly.
“Y/N…” His voice was low, strained. “Do we really have to go?”
The question sat heavy in the air, but you understood without needing more. The way his shoulders hunched, the way his fingers curled against his sides—this wasn’t laziness. This was dread. Going back meant reopening every wound he’d never really let heal.
You set the dress aside and stepped closer, closing the space between you until he finally looked up. Your touch wasn’t grand or loud—just your hand brushing lightly against his arm, enough warmth to tell him you were there, and that was enough. His face went scarlet instantly, ears burning red, his whole posture stiffening as though he’d been caught off guard by something dangerous.
And then, just to tease, you leaned in and pressed the quickest peck to his lips.
“Wha—?!” He jumped back slightly, face now blazing full red as he fumbled with his words. “H-Hey, you can’t just—! That’s cheating, you can’t—” His hands flailed as if trying to erase the moment from the air, but the goofy, boyish grin that broke across his face betrayed him completely.
You only shook your head, amused, returning to your bag as if nothing happened, while his entire world quietly spun out from one stolen second.
—
By the time you both reached the station, the crowd was already beginning to thicken—commuters shuffling past with bags slung over their shoulders, the distant screech of brakes echoing along the tracks. Yuji walked just a half-step ahead of you, glancing back every few seconds to make sure you hadn’t drifted away, his protective shadow as unshakable as ever.
At the security line, he stepped forward first. The guard, a man probably in his mid-thirties, gave Yuji a quick once-over before patting him down, brisk and professional. Yuji grinned through it, awkward but cooperative, arms out like a kid playing airplane. “See? Nothing suspicious here. Just your friendly neighborhood ramen enthusiast.”
The guard’s lips twitched at that, but he didn’t reply, already stepping aside. His eyes flicked toward you next. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then leaned slightly forward.
“Are you alone, miss?”
You blinked. For a second, the question felt heavier than it was. But then you shook your head with a small laugh, lifting a finger to point at Yuji still standing a step away, half-listening but clearly more focused on retrieving the bag he’d set down.
The guard chuckled softly, and—was that the faintest blush coloring his cheeks? He gave a sheepish nod before stepping aside to let you through.
Yuji turned just in time to see the exchange, brows furrowed in complete confusion. He blinked at you, then at the guard, then back at you again, his mouth parting as though he was about to ask what had just happened. But instead, he only shut it with a faint huff and trailed after you in silence, still looking faintly baffled.
You caught the way his lips pressed together, the crease between his brows, and couldn’t help the quiet smile that tugged at your lips. To you, the whole thing was harmless. To him, clearly, it was some kind of unsolvable riddle.
By the time you reached the platform, the train whistle echoed faintly in the distance. Yuji glanced at the vending stall nearby, then back at you, and suddenly perked up.
“Oh wait—I’ll grab us some extra water bottles, just in case.”
You widened your eyes, tugging lightly at his sleeve in protest, but he was already jogging off, waving a hand over his shoulder.
“Don’t move! I’ll be fast!”
You sighed, exasperated but not surprised, and stepped onto the train. The carriage was still half-empty, the air cooler than outside, humming with the faint vibration of engines warming. You slid into a window seat, setting your bag by your side as you checked the clock.
Another whistle. Louder this time. Your heart gave a sharp jolt. He wasn’t back yet.
Quickly, you pulled out your phone, thumb hovering over his contact. You tapped call, pressing the device to your ear, ready to tell him to hurry the hell up—
And then something icy touched your cheek.
You startled, jerking your head to the side, only to see Yuji grinning down at you, holding a sweating bottle of water against your skin. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, hair a little damp from the rush.
“Made it,” he panted lightly, grin never faltering. “Told you I’d be quick.”
You exhaled a sharp breath, half-annoyed, half-relieved, shaking your head at him. He just laughed, plopping down beside you without hesitation, his shoulder bumping into yours.
You tapped the empty space more firmly, signaling him to stay put, and he nodded eagerly like a scolded puppy finally given permission to sit.
“Alright, alright, I’m not moving,” he said, tearing open the cap with a sharp twist. “Now we’ve got enough water to survive the apocalypse. Or, you know, a two-hour train ride.”
You rolled your eyes, but your lips betrayed you with a faint curve upward as the train lurched into motion, carrying you both forward—toward Jujutsu High, toward ghosts neither of you were quite ready to face.
The grounds of Jujutsu High hadn’t changed much. The mountain wind still stung sharp against your skin, the stone paths still cracked beneath your feet, but the silence was heavier now—heavier than it had ever been when the place bustled with voices you’d never hear again.
Yuji walked close, his usual chatter muted. His hand hovered at your back once, like he wanted to touch, to anchor, but he pulled it away before it could land.
Empty classrooms. Barren training yards. Everything too still, too preserved, like the world had moved on but this place refused to.
Shoko’s office was the only door that held a light. The faint smell of cigarettes and alcohol clung to the air as you stepped in. She looked up, her eyes tired but sharper than ever, and a slow smile curved her lips.
“Well. Look at you.” Her voice softened at the edges. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
You nodded quickly, lips twitching upward.
She leaned back in her chair, gesturing loosely. “Sit.” Her gaze swept over you the way only a doctor’s could, observant, quiet. “Any pain in your throat? Trouble breathing? Spells of dizziness?”
You shook your head each time.
Her smirk pulled tired but fond. “Tougher than you look, then.” But her tone shifted, dipping into something quieter, the faint crease of her brow barely there. “And Itadori? Nothing… strange you’ve noticed?”
Your breath caught. Brows furrowed. You shook your head firmly. No. Nothing strange.
Shoko only hummed, lips pressing into a thin line. “Mm. Alright.”
The door opened before you could ask what she meant.
“Talking about me?” Yuji’s grin appeared first, bright, boyish, carrying too much sunshine into the stale room.
“Actually, yes,” Shoko said smoothly, leaning back with a knowing look.
Yuji blinked, then laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh-oh. Hope it’s good things?”
“Depends who you ask,” she replied.
You clapped a hand over your mouth, stifling the chuckle that slipped out at his mock-offended face. Yuji pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. “Et tu, Y/N?”
The moment was lighter again, Yuji’s charm flooding the room like it always did. But Shoko’s earlier question lodged in your chest like a splinter you couldn’t pull out.
---
That night, the apartment was dark except for the pale glow of your phone. Yuji was beside you, already asleep, arm draped heavy across the sheets, his face soft in dreamless slumber.
You scrolled absently until a headline stopped your thumb cold.
Attempted Murder at Osaka Station – Suspect at Large.
Your pulse jumped. You tapped it open.
The article was short, the words clinical. A security guard injured late afternoon. The suspect had fled before authorities arrived. No motive.
But the grainy footage told more.
A blur of movement. A figure. Short hair. Pink.
Your lungs squeezed tight. That station. Your station. The same one you’d left from just this morning.
It couldn’t be. No—it was impossible. You turned your head, heart hammering, to the boy sleeping soundly beside you, his cheek pressed into the pillow, lips parted in innocent breath.
Guilt twisted hard. You shook your head, forcing it away. Not him. Don’t think that. Don’t.
With trembling fingers, you clicked your phone dark and set it aside. Curling on your side, you shut your eyes, desperate for sleep.
The silence held, broken only by Yuji’s steady breathing.
—
A few days later, life had folded itself back into something resembling normal. The apartment was warm with the scent of instant coffee, Yuji’s voice filling the room as it always did, spilling over with stories you weren’t even sure had beginnings or ends.
He sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the loose thread of his hoodie while you leaned close to the mirror, finishing the last touches of your makeup.
“—and then the cashier looked at me like I was the crazy one. I mean, come on, who puts milk chocolate and cheese crackers in the same bag? That’s like a crime, right?” He snorted, his grin wide as ever, waiting for your reaction.
You only shook your head softly, half a smile pulling at your lips as you reached for your lipstick. He noticed anyway, his grin brightening like you’d given him the punchline.
“Exactly! Thank you. Finally, someone who gets me.”
He stretched with a yawn, rolling off the bed to grab something from the kitchen. “Alright, fine, I’ll stop bothering you. Do your thing, Y/N. Don’t take too long, though.”
You breathed out a soundless chuckle, tying your hair loosely as the room grew quiet without him. A few minutes passed, nothing unusual—until the soft pad of his footsteps returned.
You caught his reflection in the mirror first, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. His eyes were on you, steady.
“Where are you going?” His voice was different. Lower. Not harsh, not loud, but carrying something that made your stomach dip. “Didn’t I say no?”
Your fingers stilled mid-motion, the hair tie slipping loose. Slowly, you turned, dumbfounded, staring up at him.
_What…?_ The word never left your lips, but it echoed in your head, loud and heavy.
His face looked—different. The same, but… sharper somehow. Shadows carved deeper at the corners of his mouth, his eyes holding something unfamiliar, a weight that didn’t belong to Yuji.
Your chest tightened.
But then, suddenly—he laughed. A small, easy sound, boyish as ever. “What? Why are you staring at me like that? You’re acting weird, Y/N.”
The sharpness was gone. His grin stretched bright, careless, as he stepped closer, tapping the mirror lightly with one finger. “Hurry up, or you’ll be late.”
You blinked hard, your heart stuttering in confusion. The shift had been so quick, so seamless, you almost doubted it happened at all.
The night air outside had been calm, almost sweet. Your friend had met you halfway down the street, and the two of you lingered on a bench, passing your phone back and forth with scribbled notes on the screen. It’s been too long. I missed this. They smiled warmly, replying in kind, their words like quiet comfort: You look healthier than last time. I’m glad.
For a while, it was easy. Silent laughter shared over simple notes, small gestures that didn’t need sound. And on the walk back, your thoughts drifted toward Yuji.
He had been unusually tense lately—more so than usual—and you found yourself peeking into shop windows, scanning shelves until you spotted something he’d love: a silly keychain of his favorite character from that gacha game he never admitted he still played. You bought it, tucking it carefully into your bag, already imagining his boyish grin when he saw it.
But when you reached your doorway, everything stilled.
The apartment was dark. Too dark. Not the cozy kind of quiet you were used to, but a suffocating silence. And through the crack in the door, you saw it—shards of glass glittering across the floor like spilled stars. The coffee table overturned. Curtains torn. Even the light fixtures dangled uselessly, wires exposed.
Your breath hitched.
Yuji.
Your mind scrambled. Had something happened to him? Was he hurt? No, no, it couldn’t be—he was too strong, too stubborn to—
Heart hammering, you pushed the door open, each step a cautious echo against the broken floor. “Yuji?” The sound never left your lips, but it pulsed inside you like a prayer. You climbed the stairs, pulse thrumming in your ears, desperate for any sign of him.
And then—
“Done fucking around?”
The voice cracked through the silence like a blade. You spun, your body stiff, eyes wide, searching the shadows.
He was there. Standing at the end of the hall, swallowed by the lack of light. His outline was familiar, unmistakable—but his face, blurred in darkness, was twisted by something that wasn’t him.
“No matter how much I fuck you,” he drawled, each word dripping venom, “guess it’s not enough for a slut like you, huh?”
Your throat locked. That voice—that cruelty—it didn’t belong to Yuji. He had never, ever spoken to you that way.
But he stepped closer, his shadow stretching long against the walls. “This damn brat,” he spat, dragging his nails across his own arm, tearing through skin until angry red welts surfaced, “keeps fighting me, keeps clawing to stay in control. Fucking pathetic. He’s terrified.” His grin split wide, jagged. “Scared that you’ll see him for what he really is. Jealous as hell.”
You froze, the words stabbing through you. Terrified, your eyes darted to the wounds he carved into himself—raw, deliberate. He had been hiding them. All this time, he had been hiding the proof of his battles beneath his sleeves.
And suddenly, the stares, the sudden mood swings, the slips in his voice, the sharpness behind his smiles—they all stitched together into a picture so horrific you almost collapsed.
That wasn’t Yuji.
Your lips formed the word, trembling, even if no sound left you. S-Sukuna…
But before your thoughts could steady, instinct screamed at you to run. You spun on your heel—
Only for your head to snap back violently as fingers tangled in your hair, yanking you off balance.
A silent scream tore through your lungs, useless and raw, as he dragged you deeper into the ruined apartment, your scalp burning with every pull.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His grin glimmered in the dim, sharp and sadistic, his breath hot against your ear. He leaned in, voice cruelly amused, “You really thought you’d escape me? Pathetic.”
He shoved you harshly onto the bed, the frame creaking ominously under the sudden impact. He loomed over you, eyes glinting with malice in the scant moonlight filtering through the shattered window. Without a word, he grabbed the collar of your shirt and tore it violently down the center, exposing your heaving chest. His gaze raked over your newly bared skin, a sneer twisting his lips.
"Look at you, quivering like a bitch in heat. You're loving this, aren't you? Getting fucked by the monster you claim to love so much." His voice dripped with derision as his hands roamed roughly over your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises.
He shoved you hard against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs. His hand clamped around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to make breathing a struggle. You could feel the heat of his skin, the power coiled in his muscles, as he pressed the length of his body against yours, pinning you in place.
"Listen up, you little bitch," he snarled, his voice a brutal rasp in your ear. "You're not going anywhere. You belong to me now, understand?" His other hand fumbled with the waistband of your pants, popping the button and yanking down the zipper in one violent motion. Cool air hit your skin as he tugged your pants and underwear down to your knees.You tried to clench your thighs together, to protect yourself, but his knee forced its way between your legs, spreading you open. A choked whimper escaped your lips as he pushed two fingers into your dry, tight passage without warning.
He pumped his fingers roughly, not giving your body time to adjust.
His thumb found your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub hard and fast, sending jolts of painful pleasure through you. You tried to turn your face away, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were wild, feral, consumed by a hunger that terrified you.
"You're not allowed to leave, you hear me?" He said, his voice a menacing hiss. "You're mine now, all mine. I'll fucking destroy anyone who tries to take you away from meI won't let anyone save you. You're MINE now, understand? I'll make sure you can't leave, can't escape me ever again!" His voice rose in a frenzy as he shoved his pants down, freeing his massive, rock-hard cock.
It throbbed angrily, the swollen head an angry purple, leaking pre-cum. He grabbed your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to bruise as he lifted you up and forced your legs around his waist. Your dripping, unprepared slit hovered inches from the tip of his throbbing dick, the heat radiating against your tender folds. His eyes blazed with manic intensity as he stared at you, a cruel smirk twisting his handsome face into something vicious and terrifying.
"I'll make sure you can't fucking walk, can't even think of anything but my cock splitting you open and filling you up. You're MINE now, bitch. Forever. Now shut the fuck up and take it!" With those harsh words, he slammed his hips forward, burying every brutal inch of his massive, pulsing cock into your defenseless, virgin pussy in one cruel thrust.
A scream ripped from your throat, echoing through the ruined apartment as you felt your tender walls stretch and tear around his invading thickness, your body struggling to accommodate the ruthless intrusion. He didn't pause, didn't give you any time to adjust. He started pounding into you mercilessly, each thrust shaking your entire body and slamming you against the wall.
The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air, mingling with your sobs and his harsh grunts of pleasure. His cock was so deep, so huge, slamming against your cervix with every brutal stroke and something that you knew—Itadori would never do...
—
The house was too quiet. No hum of the refrigerator, no creak of the boards, no trace of the storm that had torn through only hours before. Just silence, heavy and unbearable, draped over the wreckage like a shroud.
Yuji stirred first. His lashes fluttered open to the gray wash of morning light seeping through the broken blinds. His body ached, raw and heavy, but the ache was nothing compared to the hollow pit in his chest.
He shifted, and that’s when he saw you.
Beside him. Skin bare, bruised in places he couldn’t bring himself to look at. The sheets tangled limply around your body, your face turned toward him. You were asleep, but exhaustion weighed you down so deeply that it didn’t look peaceful—it looked defeated. Your cheeks were still streaked with dried tears.
Yuji’s heart dropped into his stomach.
No. No, no, no.
His hands shot up to his hair, fisting tight until his scalp screamed. His knees drew to his chest as he turned away from you, rocking slightly in place. The curses slipped out broken, half-muttered, half-choked.
“Fuck… fuck, no—what the hell did I—?!” His voice cracked as he pulled harder at his hair. “It wasn’t me—it was—no, no, I let it—I let him—” His words collapsed into guttural sounds, a whirl of self-loathing that wouldn’t stop spilling out. “I should just… I should fucking end it—I can’t—”
The sound of him tore at you before your eyes even opened. You blinked slowly awake, your body stiff, fragile, like the marrow itself had been drained from you. The first thing you saw was his hunched frame, trembling, clawing at himself like he wanted to rip his skin open and crawl out.
Your throat clenched. Despite everything—despite what you remembered—you found your hand rising, slow and hesitant, until your fingers brushed the curve of his back.
He flinched instantly, twisting toward you with wide, wet eyes.
“Y/N…” Your name fell from his lips like a plea, over and over. His tears ran fast down his face, his mouth trembling as he stuttered out apologies that tripped over themselves. “I didn’t mean it—I swear—I didn’t want to—I hate myself, I hate this—I should just—please, I didn’t—” His voice broke again, dissolving into sobs that racked his chest.
He collapsed into you then, desperate, clutching at your waist as though you were the only thing keeping him from dissolving. His forehead pressed against you, his cries muffled into your skin, hot and damp and frantic.
“Don’t forgive me,” he begged between gasps. “Don’t. Don’t… I don’t deserve—”
But you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. Even with the memory of last night clawing at the edges of your mind, raw and unbearable, your arms moved on their own, circling around him. You held him, gentle, quiet, like the world hadn’t just broken apart.
His sobs shook through you, each one carving another hollow into your chest. You let him stay there, clinging to you as though he would drown without you.
And inside, you whispered the lie you were trying to make yourself believe: It’s not his fault. It was never his fault.
You told yourself that. Over and over. You had to.
But This… was your biggest mistake.
No matter how normal he looked, you couldn’t forget.
The way his hands had pressed you down. The way his voice—his, but not—had twisted cruel. Even when he woke now with his boyish grin, even when he offered to share the last bite of his snack or muttered about silly commercials on TV, you felt your body flinch at the smallest gesture. A brush of his arm against yours, a hand reaching too fast. Every nerve braced for him to snap again. For Sukuna to bleed through.
You forgot how to laugh at his dumb jokes. Forgot how to roll your eyes at his dramatics. The silence between you grew heavy, thick.
And Yuji noticed. Of course he noticed.
But instead of teasing, instead of begging for your attention like he always had, he only asked the same thing, again and again, his voice quiet and unshakable:
“Y/N… do you love me?”
You’d look away every time, your throat closing around the words you couldn’t give him. Your phone sat untouched. Your notes app stayed closed. He didn’t let you anymore. No more scribbled messages. No more signing. No more careful reassurances.
It was like he was folding the walls tighter around you.
And the most terrifying part was that even with all of it—your heart still ached for him. Stupidly, traitorously, you loved him. Loved him even as your mind screamed that you were suffocating, that you had to escape, that you weren’t safe.
One evening, the two of you sat in the living room, a movie flickering faintly on the TV. You had put the smallest sliver of distance between you on the couch—just enough that his warmth couldn’t reach you. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, silent for a long while.
Then his voice cut through.
“You hate me.”
You froze, the remote limp in your hand.
“You don’t trust me anymore.” His tone trembled, weak but sharp, a knife against itself. He turned, his eyes dark and wet. “I don’t… I don’t blame you. You’ve already suffered enough because of me.”
He dragged a hand down his face, almost clawing at his skin. Then suddenly, his body lurched toward you, desperate, frantic. “But you know, right? It’s not me—it’s not me! It’s him! It’s Sukuna!”
The snap in his voice made you jolt, your back pressing into the arm of the couch. His body loomed over you, pleading but suffocating, his breath hot, his eyes wild. You shifted, hands pressing lightly to his chest, trying to push him back just an inch.
And he stopped.
Just like that, he froze. His breath hitched, his whole frame shaking. Slowly, he leaned back, fear flashing across his own features as if he were the one cornered. His mouth fell open, trembling, spilling out apologies in broken whispers.
“I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—please don’t—” His words crumbled into tears, his shoulders curling inward, his sniffles weak and uneven.
You didn’t know what to do anymore. You didn’t know what was Yuji, what was Sukuna, what was slipping through the cracks. But something in his eyes looked too raw, too human, and you found yourself reaching out, your fingers brushing his sleeve. Just a tuck, soft. Enough to calm a child. Enough to say, I’m here.
His whole body shuddered at the touch. He turned his face away, sniffling into his sleeve. “Y/N… it’s not me. It’s not me. Trust me. I love you so much—I’d never hurt you—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s all his doing. Please. Don’t leave me. Don’t…”
The rest of the afternoon passed like that, his words unraveling, your silence stitching over them, until finally exhaustion took him. His head drooped against the back of the couch, lips parted, his face slack in sleep.
You stared at him for a long moment, your chest tight, before finally rising on unsteady legs. Moving to the corner of the room, you pulled out your phone, the screen’s glow too bright in the dim apartment.
Your fingers hovered, then typed slowly:
Shoko… remember what you asked me? If Yuji was acting weird? I didn’t understand then. But now… maybe I do.
You were about to hit send but—
The message hadn’t even cleared before a voice sliced through the silence.
You groan, trying to sit up when you find yourself weighed down by two large arms wrapped around you. You trying to pry Sukuna's arms off of you, but to no avail. "S'kuna, let me go."
He doesn't even give you the privilege of an answer, simply tightening his grip around your middle. Sukunas lips find your neck, warm as he takes a bite of your throat.
"Ah, ah, no! 'm still sore!" You attempt to wriggle away tilting your head to hide your poor nape from any more of his marks. He doesn't relent, but he does release his mouth from you before slowly peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder blade. He does so with an annoyed huff, but hes noticeably more gentle. Unhurried.
"Your covered in marks, brat." He grumbles before giving a dark-colored hickey a slow lick. "Where else am I supposed to kiss you?"
"How about my lips?"
Sukunas eyes flicker up to you, raising his head from your neck.
"I mean- they are sore but not as much as the rest of m-" His lips are on your own before you could finish, and you couldn't do anything but sigh into his mouth. You close your eyes, gently wrapping your arms around his neck.
He seems satisfied at this, judging by how he nips at your lips without drawing blood this time, and pushes his tongue into your mouth.
You feel him shift his position, pulling you closer and laying some of his weight on you.
When he pulls away, theres a smirk on his face as he licks his lips. Crimson eyes full of want.
"You're such a softie." You whisper, tracing the lines on his face with a gentle finger, occasionally brushing soft pink locks out of his face. Soft, courtesy of your hair care routine on Sukuna.
"Hm." Your voice reaches his ears, but it doesn't seem like your words registered in his mind. Because if he really did hear your words, he'd complain. Huff and puff, maybe even throw you off his lap.
(Throw is codeword for picking you up and putting you aside. Gently.)
Sukuna is leaned back on his throne, skulls and bone framing the two of you, and yet the atmosphere felt uncharacteristically soft. Quiet. Rare.
You smile, a mischievous glint in your eye. Fine, you'll get a reaction out of him either way.
Withdrawing your hands from his face and hair, you wait for the inevitable reaction.
One of Sukuna's eyes peak open, unimpressed. You innocently smile back. "What?"
"What do you mean 'what?'" He growled, previous relaxation bleeding away quicker than you could blink. All of his crimson eyes snap open, all of them effectively glaring at you.
"Whaaaat?" You repeat, giggling and leaning backwards when Sukuna's hands grip your waist in impatience.
He squints suspiciously at you. "You know what you did."
"Nuh-uh. You gotta tell me."
He scowls.
"Why do I have to tell you something you already know? Brat."
"But I don't know!" You were grinning, the face of someone who knew exactly what they were doing.
Sukuna glares impossibly harder at you, hands tightening on your waist in a silent threat. Unfortunately, you were not threatened. If anything, it simply egged you on.
"You gotta tell me what you want me to do, yknow." You huff in between giggles.
His face is contorted into a deep frown, although it looked like such a cute pout to you that you were half-tempted to just give in. No, no, you'll be strong. For a little bit.
"Your hands." He murmurs in between gritted teeth.
"what was that?"
"Your hands." He repeats. "Put them on my face. Do that thing you insist on doing." His voice comes out strained, held back by his ego. "Lest you start complaining."
"Me?" You raised an amused brow. "I'm the one that complains?"
"Yes, you." Sukuna concluded.
You roll your eyes, bring your hands to his face and squishing his cheeks, earning you a grumble from the pink-haired curse. "Whatever you say, 'Kuna."
A.N. I got so many requests to do but this man. This MANNN i cant get rid of him im sorry
SUKUNA is humiliated. Absolutely disgraced, no better than a fool. There is no King here, replaced by a moron with his heart in your scheming hands.
Or more accurately, his ear in between your pinching fingers.
"I swear, absolutely nothing gets through that thick skull of yours!" You screech, dragging your husband by the ear towards the backyard where Uraume was no doubt doing the laundry.
"Unhand me you wretch-" He began, only to hiss when you twisted his ear till it was red. Your head turns to look at him, a deceptively calm poker face as you glare. "What did you call me?"
The passing servants scuttle away with their head down, not daring to look upon the fearsome king of curses be dragged around and scolded like a child, lest they become dinner later.
"Nothing, my love," He grumbles through gritted teeth, entire face starting to go red from embarrassment and the sharp pain in his ear.
You untwist his ear (but your grip stays like iron), a pleasant smile on your face. "Thats what I thought."
You continue to drag him across the hall, smiling at every passing maid as if you didn't have an eight feet tall demon trailing at your heels. There were no guards, for your husband was the security itself.
"It is not my fault that the fool bleeds red," he reasons.
"Yet you are the reason they bled!" You bite back. "Fine, I'm sure Uraume is used to your stained kimono's, but mine? MINE??" His ear twists and he hunches forward even more, nearly tripping over his own two feet as he forces himself up as to not crush you. You ignore his struggle, angrily stomping across the large estate.
"I wasn't aware that your silks had arrived and were passing by,"
"They were white silks!" You cut him off, something no other mortal could do without facing his wrath. But for you? He shuts the fuck up. "Foreign white silks! Now all stained because of your temper," a servant opens the door to the garden, you pause to thank them before continuing to drag Sukuna out. "-and your ignorance! A fool! I married a fool." You complain.
Uraume's attention easily slips away from scrubbing, their eyes widening in horrification before back to silent acceptance.
You throw your husband forward, and he stands in front of his laboring right hand, rubbing his left ear.
"Go on. Apologize." You tut.
Uraume and Sukuna's eyes widen as they realize what you were forcing your husband to do this time around.
"I will not, for I have done no wrong."
"My lady, there is no need for such apologies-"
You shush Uraume, giving them a pat on the head. "No, Uraume, this buffoon," You glare at Sukuna, who can do nothing but look away guiltily, kicking at the dirt under his feet. "Must apologize for adding onto your already heavy workload."
Sukuna immediately retaliates, chest puffing up. "I will do no such thing-"
"Sukuna Ryomen." You raise your hand, wedding band flashing dangerously in the light.
Sukuna gulps, Uraume takes a few steps back.
"Do you see this ring?"
He nods, forced to measly prey in the lions den. The lion being you.
"It will end up on the floor, as you will too, if you do not apologize to Uraume right this second." Uraume wants nothing but to sink into the floor, maybe interrupt you and insist they don't need the apology. The thought crosses their mind before they throw it out, it wouldn't do them any good. It would only fuel your anger.
"Go on." You tap your foot.
Sukuna should've killed you when he met you. Should've thrown away the seed of love you had planted in his cold, bloody heart. Unfortunately for him, he didnt. And now, the only thing he can think of when he thinks of love is you.
He swallows this pride. As he does whenever it came to you. Loyal like a dog to its sheep.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't look at me." You step aside, forcing him to look Uraume dead in the eye.
He grits his teeth. "I'm... sorry."
"Fantastic!" You clap, overjoyed at your husbands compliance. "Now that wasn't so hard wasn't it?"
Sukuna is utterly humiliated and so unfortunately in love.
reincarnated as a man? your husband still adores you. even in this new era, even with your new body, 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 makes it a point to teach you how to pleasure this new self of yours.
“relax,” his gruff voice crooned at the end. your head's limped back on his shoulder. brows twitched, jaw slack. pleasure pricked your spine and along the curve of your dick.
“kuna, fuck,” your whine was met with a calloused thumb pressing firmer on your throbbing tip. he nuzzled between the flesh and stroked on the oozing slit.
“there we go.” another hand was wrapped firm on your shaft, jerking slowly, as if trying to thread away at your sanity bit by bit.
yet another hand cupped your balls. squeezed. the eager mouth on his palm flicked along the curve, slicking you in both saliva and your own precum.
“this is how you pleasure yourself.” heat trailed down your neck with his kisses. he rolled his hips against the curve of your ass and grunted as you spilled all over his palm. that greedy tongue went lapping again.
“although, I don't mind you fumbling around a bit,” a firm squeeze around your cock sent you bucking and whining.
“gives me all the more reason to touch this body that's mine.”
cw - kissing, sukuna’s lowkey possessive and kinda kinky, blood, they’re horny idk, he also struggles with feelings
making out with sukuna was aggressive. he made out with you like he was gonna devour you, like you were his last meal and he wasn’t gonna waste any of it. the feeling of your lips on his was intoxicating, he wasn’t gonna treat it like some passing act.
both of his giant hands cupped your cheeks, palms cradling your face as if you were gonna slip through his fingers. he felt like he was addicted to you. your touch, your taste, your smell, everything about you made his head hurt, not in a bad way, but not in a way sukuna was familiar with.
his lips pressed against yours at a ruthless pace. it wasn’t soft or loving like you would think, instead his kisses were hungry and needy, a desperate plea for you and your body.
sukuna was a busy man, he was a king after all. he did a lot of work during the day, between meeting with clans or townsfolk, killing the people who got on his nerves, and keeping up his title, he got worn out.
he liked having an outlet, a way to release his stress and relax. you were there, always at his side and always willing to give yourself to him. he didn’t know why he kept you around for so long. though he supposed in some way he cared for you.
sukuna wanted you all to himself. he needed full ownership over you. you were his, your body, your mind and your soul. you belonged to him and he made sure everyone knew it.
he bit down on your bottom lip, forcing his way in even though he knew you wouldn’t resist. he preferred taking what he wanted and being rough, he wasn’t one for all the lovey-dovey, affectionate stuff.
his tongue invaded your mouth, licking every crevice and dip, memorizing the space he had grown so familiar with. he groaned at the wetness, the way your saliva tasted. it was nearly as good as your blood.
sukuna couldn’t help the way he sometimes dug his canines too far into your lips, unaware until he tastes the addicting metallic hint and hears the sound of you whining. sukuna already had sharp teeth, it wasn’t completely his fault for causing you to bleed.
sukunas tongue continued mapping out the inside of your mouth, sucking and licking on your tongue all while his hands greedily explored your body, nails gently scratching down your skin.
his two hands on your cheeks still held you close, his lower set of hands moving all over your torso. his fingers traveled over your shoulders, your arms, your chest, stomach, waist, hips, anywhere he could reach.
the feeling of your body under his hands, your pulse against his palms made him want you even more. he slides his hands down, reaching up under the hem of your shirt and roaming your bare skin, tracing over the muscles and lines of your abdomen.
your hands gripped sukunas shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you resist the urge to pull back for air. sukunas hands and lips wouldn’t have let you anyway.
his thumbs started rubbing rough circles into your cheekbones, his way of comforting you. he wouldn’t ever say sweet words, reassurance was barely a part of sukunas vocabulary.
the most “comfort” that you get from him was in the form of his touches, his hands tracing patterns into your skin, fingers curling against yours, though he wouldn’t give you an audible response.
his lips were insistent, not wanting to give you even a moment to breathe. his breath was warm against yours, the two of you practically panting into one another’s mouths, needing air but refusing to pause for a second.
sukunas lower hands slide back, splaying against your back as he pushes you down with his weight, his body pressing flush against yours, the size difference even more noticeable.
you could feel every part of him this way, the size of sukuna always made your face warm. he was huge, double your size at least, and probably triple your weight. he was pure muscle from head to toe, using it to his advantage whenever possible.
his meaty thighs straddled your hips, trying to push further against you. you could feel his heart beating against yours, chest heaving against yours. you were so utterly obsessed by him and his body it wasn’t even funny.
it was burning up, whether it was from the kissing or the way sukuna was pressed up against you, you couldn’t say. sukuna kept trying to move closer, body already glued to yours, skin sticking together due to the proximity.
sukuna was never close enough though, he wished he could merge with you, be so close to you that you became one being. he wanted you to be his, and sometimes he even wants to be yours.
the heat of his palms against your cheeks made you even hotter, a bead of sweat slipping down your forehead as you cling onto him, not letting him pull back either.
after a few minutes of this, sukuna pulls back, leaving just a few centimeters of space between you two. his forehead presses against yours, breath fanning your lips.
you struggled to open your eyes, overwhelmed and out of breath as the man on top of you pins you down with his weight. your mind felt fuzzy as you stared up at him, almost taken aback by how unfairly handsome he was.
sukunas eyes were staring straight into yours, dark and hazy with lust. his eyes dialating just a fraction as you lick your lips, hands tightening their grip on your face.
the two of you didn’t speak. you didn’t need to. not when your eyes told each other everything you needed to know. sukuna only groaned as he pressed forward again, lips melting against yours in a scarily natural way.
the feeling of his hands on your cheeks disappeared, one hand finding your neck, gripping lightly, thumb pressing against your pulse point, the other traces your jaw, gentle compared to the rough movements of his lips.
he kissed you harder now, trying to up the kiss from a second ago. he always wanted more, more of you, more of your lips, especially when they were on his.
he was never a kisser. he never had been, not until you showed up. sukuna never really kissed people, why would he let himself be seen soft? though with you it was different, he found himself craving your taste, craving the feeling of your lips.
his lower hands slide up and down your sides, fingers tracing the contours of your body as he deepens the kiss, biting down hard on your bottom lip again, the pained groan from you only making heat flood his gut.
he could taste the familiar metallic taste of your blood, a hint of sweetness and you added to it. his fingers instinctively tightened their grip of you, making sure you weren’t going anywhere.
you cringed at the taste of your own blood, only able to taste it for a split second before sukunas tongue slips in between your lips, licking up the blood slowly pooling into your mouth.
he groaned shamelessly, pressing down against you to let you know how much he enjoyed this, how much he enjoyed you. and by the stiffness of him against your thigh, he was certainly enjoying it.
your hands slide up his back, feeling around the pure muscles in his back as you two made out. you were surprised you could even think right now, sukuna usually having kissed you stupid by minute five.
which you might’ve spoke too soon. his lips started moving faster, with more purpose than before. you could hear the wet smacking of your lips together, you almost wanted to feel embarrassed but with the way sukuna was consuming your mouth and thoughts you weren’t really able to.
you could feel sukuna smirking against your lips, kissing you harder. it seriously felt like he was trying to eat you, you could barely keep up with him, groans and whines muffled by his mouth.
you were sure it would be like this all night. when sukuna was needy he always made sure to get his fill and then some. if he wanted you he would have you, and it wasn’t like you could say no, not that you wanted to.
it was always the same routine. sukuna calls you in, kisses you until you can’t think, passes out, is gone before you wake up, either that or he tells you to go back to your bed.
when sukuna pulls back for a second time he’s got a lazy grin on his face, looking down at you with infatuation, head tilting just an inch.
he licked his lips at the sight of blood prickling up on your bottom lip, the indentions of his teeth still visible. he brings a hand up, thumb carefully swiping across your lip, the coolness of his reverse cursed technique spreading through you.
he brings his hand to his face, sucking the last remainder of your blood off his thumb with a low hum of approval.
you reach up slowly, tracing the tattoo running from his eyes to his cheek, tracing the lines lightly. sukuna was still, not doing so much as breathing wrong, all in fear that you would stop your ministrations.
he tried stopping himself but he couldn’t help but relax under the touch, shoulders slumping, the tension in his face seemingly disappearing. he only let out a huff, turning his head away.
“I could still kill you, you know..”
he grumbles though the rare softness in his voice betrays him, his thumb tracing down your neck absentmindedly.
you only hummed, small amused smile finding your face as you nod, voice matching the softness of his as you spoke.
“I know.”
sukuna glances back at you, jutting his bottom lip forward a bit, an unreadable expression on his face. one of his lower arms reaches up, scratching the back of his neck. he almost looked like he was pouting.
“you’re too trusting.”
he mutters, narrowing his eyes at you while expecting some sort of offended reaction. you only shrugged, the loose smile on your face never falling.
“maybe.”
sukuna doesn’t give you a response this time, leaning back in, lips finding yours yet again, slower, almost caring in a way. he didn’t want to think about the fact that maybe you really weren’t too trusting. maybe.. it was him being soft for once.
it was rare that sukuna, the king of curses, went this long without craving bloodlust, without wanting a fight. now he just craved you, craved your touch and your presence, wanting your body against his.
his lips stayed on your till the both of you fell asleep, the taste of one another lingering throughout the night and the next morning.
sukuna didn’t mind having your taste on his tongue all day, in fact he could get used to it.
he thinks he could get used to you, you weren’t a nuisance or a pest that he wanted to get rid of, and your body was an added bonus.
so maybe he will.
—————————————————————————
i can’t stop writing sukuna. i love him so much. i want to run my hands through his hair, ik it’s soft.
the rare moments when sukuna is actually clingy and acts like he's yours>>
you hadn't even made it out of bed before sukuna's arms were wrapping around you, pulling you back down against your shared bed. his movements were sluggish, still tired from sleep, but awake enough to realize you were trying to leave.
he pulls you back against him, all four arms wrapped around you tight, holding your body flush against his. two of his hands gripped your waist, the others splaying out against your front, keeping you close against his chest.
"what are you doing..?"
he mutters lowly, his voice rough and gravely from just waking up. you feel your stomach flutter, even after hearing his voice every morning for years, you still weren’t used to it.
you bring your hands up, grabbing onto his forearms and turning your head to look back at him, which only made the fluttering in your stomach worsen tenfold.
his eyes were half-lidded, narrowed in on you; if you didn't know him any better, you would think he was glaring at you. his pink hair was ruffled, short spikes going in every direction. his lips were downturned in a small frown; clearly, he hadn't been happy at the thought of you leaving.
"getting up?"
you reply, an amused smile finding your face as you turn in his grasp. he didn't stop you, letting you turn until you were chest to chest with him.
sukuna grumbles at your words, frowning further, his arms tightening around you instinctively, as if preparing for you to try and get up out of his arms again.
"no."
is all he says, pulling you even closer. the second your cheek hit his collarbone, you wanted to melt against him. he was so warm and soft. the skin of his chest wasn't like his hands, having built up years of calluses; instead, it was smooth, almost like a baby's.
you almost wanted to give in, to just go back to sleep in sukuna's arms; his warmth was inviting and practically calling your name. before you could even make a complaint sukuna's voice continues.
"you don't need to 'get up'."
he murmurs, his fingers starting to trace little patterns on your back, effectively destroying any possible retort you had. at your silence, sukuna starts to relax again, slowly letting himself fall back asleep, but you weren't gonna give in that easily.
you slide your hand up his side, gripping his side and trying to push back, pulling your head up away from sukunas. sukuna only grumbles, arms tightening further around you, wrapped around you like a vice.
after a challenging battle of pushing away from sukuna’s grasp, you somehow manage to loosen his grip, arms still locked around you, but now in a loose hold.
slowly you start sliding down, shuffling out of his grasp, carefully throwing your legs over the edge of the mattress before standing.
you made sure every movement was silent. nothing got past sukuna so you had to put up your best shot.
after making sure the coast was clear and you got off scott free, you turn, ready to start the day, even if sukuna didn’t want to.
“where are you going…?”
a hand reaches forward—then another, both of his right hands lock around your arm, tugging you back against him, into your rightful spot next to him.
this time you sigh, reaching up to pat his back, trying to get him to do something.
“ryo…”
he only exhales through his nose, eyes closed, purposefully avoiding looking at you.
“ryo.. the sun is starting to rise. it’s time to-”
before you could finish your sentence, sukuna rolls, taking you with him, laying fully on top of you, almost crushing you with his sheer weight.
your face was smushed against his neck, body completely shadowed by sukuna’s. sukuna presses his face into your hair, clearly telling you he wasn’t letting you win this.
after a few moments of silence and contemplation, you huff, begrudgingly wrapping your arms around his waist, accepting your fate as sukuna’s favorite pillow.
sukuna shifts, bringing his top set of arms to slip under your head, his lower set of arm staying wrapped tight around you. he finally relaxes, seemingly pleased with your submission.
if this was what it took to stay by his side, you didn’t mind, you’d probably do anything for that stubborn pink haired man.
besides he was really warm, and he did smell good…
—————————————————————————————
guys it’s 3:45am. that’s funny. I am NOT proof reading, I cringe when I read my writing too soon.
lounging on your stomach wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a cheeky pair of underwear, completely absorbed in a book—so much so that you don’t hear your f/o enter the room. they admire the view for a moment, but are overcome with such cuteness aggression that their body moves on its own: they lunge at you and fucking bite the fat of your ass, their body pinning yours down even as you shriek and attempt to scramble away. for them, any consequences pale in comparison to your adorable reaction <3
“we live in an uncaring universe” yeah dude and I live in an uncaring house. and I shit in an uncaring toilet. but do you touch an uncaring lover? do you comfort an uncaring child? do you guide to sleep each night a cold and uncaring self?
Dadbod!sukuna..... Dadbod!sukuna whos warm and huggable and adores hugging you casually whenever he can... Everything about him is thicker and bigger... Hands spanning the small of your back that it makes you cringe whenever you think about the similarities with those secretary y/n and alpha CEO stories.... Dadbod!Sukuna who's biceps feel like heaven is right where you are when its locked around your neck HAAAAASDHFHHCHDHHSHSHS
gamechangershow
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germansingergirl
areudirty
jimmyeatworldofficial
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romaincrisis
