𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 - 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 (𝙛𝙚𝙢)𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
2.5k words, 1/1, sukuna x reincarnated wife reader
Being a jujutsu sorcerer might've been the worst choice you’d ever made. When you weren’t risking your life for ungrateful hags that called themselves the higher ups, you were sitting in a cold room, thinking what in your life could’ve led you to make this decision.
You’d be lying if you said it was for any honorable reason. It wasn’t a calling or a responsibility you felt to help those weaker than you. Honestly, it was mainly for the egregious amounts of money sorcerers were paid. Someone had mentioned the salary, and before you knew it, you were studying at Tokyo Jujutsu High.
That was…what, ten years since you graduated? Time flies, or whatever. You weren’t a very nostalgic person.
As of recently, the amount of missions you’d been assigned had increased. You suspected it had something to do with that kid, Yuji Itadori, who had sort of fucked up everything by swallowing Sukuna’s finger. He seemed like a good enough kid from when you’d met him, but the sheer amount of work he indirectly forced you to do by bringing back Sukuna…
Today was a good example. You had been called into Shibuya on the night of Halloween, after some citizens were trapped inside a veil, and the curses inside demanded to see Satoru Gojo. Your only job, thank the heavens, was to ensure the safety of citizens trapped on the outskirts.
It proved to be a very wearisome task, never ending. There were so many people, and just when you thought you’d found them all, you found another few hundred hiding inside a building. Most of them were far enough away from the fighting and seemed relatively uninjured. Still, ever since the…explosion (?) that had happened half an hour ago, there’d been bodies every now and then.
If luck was on your side (it never was) you’d have finished in another twelve hours.
With an excessive huff, you held a twenty something year old to your chest, like one would do with a toddler. They had broken their leg, and even if it was sure to hurt, you couldn’t help but think they were being dramatic. They held onto you with all their weight, letting out pained moans against your neck.
A scowl crossed your face, knitting your brows together. Their breath smelt terrible, like a corpse left to fester in the sun for days on end.
“Okay,” you muttered as you set them down against a collapsed pillar. They whimpered, a hand dramatically thrown over their eyes.
“It hurts,” they whined. “Can’t you do anything for the pain?”
“No,” you snapped out, hands shoved into your pockets. “You’ll be fine. There’s people dying.”
As they turned to you with a grimace, a sudden swoosh echoed. A thin cut appeared across the person’s nose, tiny specks of blood welling up. It wasn’t just a cut, you realized, as the top of their head suddenly slid off from the bottom.
With a sickening squelch, the detached part thumped against the floor. Their still wide eyes stared up at you, a puddle of crimson forming around them. Some of it splattered onto your face.
Your body reacted off of muscle instinct before your brain could catch up, eyes scanning the streets for the source. They latched onto a man standing on top of rubble, face concealed by shadows.
A red glare followed his eyes as he leaned forward, staring down at you. The faint wind ruffled his pink hair, chin tilted upwards with a displeased frown on his face.
Oh, for fucks sake. Of course you, who just barely counted as a special grade sorcerer, ran directly into Ryomen Sukuna. Gojo’s useless dumbass had gotten sealed hours before Sukuna even showed up. God, that man was never here when it actually mattered. What a prick.
You felt sweat rise coat your palms as you truly realized the gravity of this situation. Sukuna stared at you like you were just a mildly interesting bug, and the hairs on the back of your neck rose. With a brief swallow, your stomach twisted.
Better to go out fighting than groveling, you supposed. Shifting your position, you stood with one foot slightly behind the other, fists in front of your face.
From the moment Sukuna took control of Itadori’s body in Shibuya, he’d felt it. A pull in his gut, a distant feeling of someone using a CT he recognized much too well.
During the Heian Era, Sukuna had once gotten married. His wife had been the one person he nearly considered his equal, a strong woman who occasionally challenged him in brawls. She was obsessed with strength, and looked upon the weak with disgust. He respected it.
In love…wasn’t the best term for what Sukuna felt for her. He didn’t get her flowers, but he tossed the heads of her enemies at her feet, and slaughtered anyone who got too close. It was closer to a hungry possession and a deep fascination.
Towards the end of his era, the Queen of Curses had been killed by sorcerers. The memory still brought fresh anger to Sukuna’s mind. She’d been tricked and killed unhonorably, just like Sukuna a mere few months later.
They’d been able to actually kill his wife, not split her into twenty like himself. During Sukuna’s 1000 years trapped inside his consciousness, he’d come to believe she was gone. He didn’t grieve, not exactly, but he had sworn to find those sorcerers kin and torture that bloodline for the rest of their miserable existence. If anyone was to kill his wife, that was Sukuna’s right and his alone.
But when he’d woken up in Shibuya and felt your much too familiar cursed energy output, he’d known you must be nearby. Reincarnation or some other joke from the universe like that. He’d decided to still do what he planned; fight Jogo and Mahorga, but afterwards…he could make time.
Sukuna would have to test you, of course. If his reincarnated wife was weak, he would just slaughter you and bury that stain on her legacy.
So he’d tracked you down, and had been watching you for maybe fifteen minutes. Sukuna had seen you fight, and while you definitely hadn’t been pushed to your fullest, he could smell the potential. He wouldn’t kill you, not now, because it would be a waste. Like killing a lion cub before they matured.
He felt a cold wind whip his hair into his face, dark eyes locked onto your distant figure. You shared some of her features, he noted. You had your familiar h/c locks, but your eyes were a stark contrast to what Sukuna recalled.
His fingers tensed and relaxed several times. He couldn’t help but smile when you prepared to fight…like that would do anything. If Sukuna wanted you dead, your brains would’ve already painted the walls.
“Lover,” Sukuna called out, even as the term of endearment held nothing but cold calculation. He watched the confusion flood your expression, a key giveaway that you clearly held no memories of your past life.
“...What?” The word spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. You’d expected him to send a cleave in your direction, maybe even a few slurs. Either of those would’ve made you feel better than this reality.
Sukuna sighed, a mildly annoyed grimace distorting his features. He gracefully yet quickly stepped down from the rubble, approaching you. His movements were reminiscent of a snake coiling around their prey. “Don’t play dumb. Unless…oh, are you?” His eyes narrowed, “Pity.”
“What are you…” You tripped over your own feet in your hurry to get away from his suffocating aura, stumbling while your hands twisting into the formation for one of your CTs.
“Don’t bother,” Sukuna waved his hand. “I mean you no harm. Not unless you bore me first.”
At this point, the turmoil in your mind was so great it made your insides clench. Were you really going to vomit now? That would certainly give Sukuna an excuse for execution, not that he needed one. “What do you want, then?”
“So many questions,” Sukuna tsked. “What, don't you trust me?”
The answer came out blunt, “No.”
A cruel smirk tugged on the corners of his lips, voice a cool command. “You will.” Before you could even consider reacting, he was right in front of you. Lazily, he reached out, poking your temple with two fingers.
Blinding, agonizing, white-hot pain burnt your entire system. It ached, it stung, it burned, it screamed, it throbbed. Your muscles locked up as if electrocuted, invisible claws digging into your brain. They tore down your barriers, reaching inside and shredding everyone of your nerves. The claws clutched with all of their strength, refusing to let go even as tears sprung to your eyes. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, could do nothing but stand there like a fool.
Memories that weren’t your own invaded your sight, appearing in the back of your mind. Fragments of an impossibly large castle, built on a jagged mountainspace, crystalline towers reaching towards the heavens above. It was always cold there, a chilly breeze whisking through the hair of anyone unlucky enough to find themselves within its walls.
You saw a cherry blossom tree, whose leaves fell to the floor as gracefully as a dancer. They sliced through the air, landing softly in your outstretched palm. It was a stark contrast to the way the air smelled, briefly metallic when a gust picked up. Your mouth tasted like iron, and the roots of that gorgeous, ethereal tree were stained with splatters of red.
Sukuna stood in front of you now. He didn’t look like the present, instead his large frame towered over yours. A hard mass of something vaguely wood-like covered the left side of his face, rough hands holding your face, skin clammy under his grip. Your gut screamed at you to move, insisting that this man who held you was drenched in sin, but the you from then leaned in. Despite yourself, a sluggish grin crossed your face.
The rest of the flashbacks appeared in a daze. They came and went too quickly for you to process, each one shattered and missing considerable chunks. It was like remembering a dream hours after you woke up, when all the images had broken frames and smeared photographs.
By the time your vision cleared, it took you a minute to realize you were in the present. The pain had faded, the claws had retracted, but your hands still shook with the aftershocks. Sukuna’s four scarlet eyes dug under your skin, expectant.
Your mouth was all dry. When you made eye contact, an unbidden thought came to mind. My husband.
Oh, what the fuck? It made you sick to even think, and your brain did all it could to shut that down. But the damage had already been done, memories of a past life forced onto you. Sukuna hadn’t stated that they were your memories, but the click when you saw them…they had to be.
“So?” Sukuna raised a brow, “Are you done thrashing?”
“That wasn’t me,” you blurted, insistent like hell. “That couldn’t…I…”
“It was,” he spoke calmly, gliding one step forward. “I know it, lover. Underneath that weak skin you have put on, I can see you.”
You futilely tried to move away, yet he grabbed your face between his two hands, firm as stone. He held you still as his lips suddenly crashed against yours, fingers digging into your hair. The movement shocked you beyond explanation. Instinct took over, and before you knew why, your lips were moving in sync.
There was nothing gentle about it. The King of Curses kissed you like he was trying to devour you, to possess you in your entirety. Your hands loosely wrapped around his shoulders, then dug into his skin when he slid his tongue down your throat. Your bodies moved to a rhythm you both somehow remembered clear as day, two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place after centuries spent away.
Sukuna only briefly pulled away, allowing you a moment of reprieve. A thin strand of saliva connected your mouths, and he was already kissing you again before it broke. Your chest moved unnaturally, lungs struggling for oxygen while the rest of your body screamed more.
Your back was slammed against a stone wall, ears still ringing when Sukuna pressed his lips against the center of your throat. The pleasure was so intense it forced you to bare your teeth, hissing as one of his hands stroked the place where your hipbone jutted out.
“Fuck–” The noise escaped, face heating up when you realized just how loud and high pitched that had been. You slammed a hand against your mouth, muffled grunts spilling into your palm.
Sukuna found a spot on the side of your neck that made you squirm. He kissed it slowly, licking the spot and allowing you to relax. When he felt your guard was down, he bit down so hard it was sure to leave a vibrant mark for weeks.
Your back arched like a bowstring pulled taut, a stifled cry escaping you. It hurt in the best way possible, the mixture of pain and pleasure so addicting that your entire body felt warm and fuzzy.
Sukuna straightened then, pulling himself away from where he was latched onto your neck. His free hand reached up, thumb digging into the skin of that red spot until you cried out again.
Once you did, Sukuna smiled in content victory. He stepped away, hands releasing you. He watched you struggle to gain your bearings, panting and sweating. “Don’t try to hide that,” he commanded, looking off at the sky. You knew he was talking about your inevitable hickey. “I’ll be back, lover. I expect you to be stronger by then.”
Sukuna was gone then, so fast it was as if he had never been there. But you knew he must’ve been, for your lips were swollen and your neck still throbbed. A gust of wind slammed against your cheek, sending the scent of blood wafting to your face.
You turned toward the sound, and realized with a visible wince that you’d been making out with Ryomen Sukuna right in front of a corpse. That had to be…all forms of disrespectful.
If your ticket in hell wasn’t secured before, it sure was now. Oh, why had you kissed back? Guilt wracked your body, forcing you to stand there and breathe in an attempt to calm it. You could practically feel a council of your ancestors looking down, judging you.
Yet even as the universe’s accusing eyes dug into the back of your neck, your gut already knew the truth. Given the opportunity, you’d do the same the next time you ran into Sukuna.
“I’m a terrible person,” you exhaled once the thought settled, reaching up to rub at your neck.
