Thinking about a bruiser boyfriend who loves it when you kiss his bloody knuckles after heâs finished beating someone to a pulpâwho loves to grope the fat of your ass and thighs, sink his fingers into the plush, knead you like dough while sinking into the comfort of your lap face-firstâgetting all woozy with groggy moaning when you run your hand through his hair.
A rough boyfriend who kisses you oh-so-terribly softlyâbut who, no matter how gentle he tries to be, can never truly mask just how brutishly strong he actually is. You can always feel the burden hiding in the pressure of his fingertips lingering on your skin, doing everything in his power to hold back the full weight of his true power.Â
A big brawny boyfriend who gets fed up with you sometimesâwho, instead of yelling and cursing, instead just picks you up over his shoulder like a sack of flour and pays no mind to any of your protests except for a light slap on your ass, holding you there while you bang away at his back with balled fists, telling you heâll let you down once youâre down acting like a bratâbut who, at the same time, whenever makes you cry, gets down on both knees and puts his forehead to the floor, crawling forward until heâs right by your feet, kissing your ankles until you forgive him.
A trigger-happy, prone-to-jealousy boyfriend who squares up at any given chance when he thinks someoneâs flirting with you, who barks just as hard as he bites and will happily sleep in a jailcell any night if it means he got to knock someone's teeth out for talking to you.
A massive boyfriend who loves drowning you in his clothes, who wants you to wear them alwaysâwho just shakes his head when you tell him itâs not flattering to your figure and tells you that nothing in the world suits you better.Â
A ride-or-die boyfriend who tattoos your name on his bicep and talks you into getting his name on your ass.Â
A no-filter boyfriend who tells you that heâd straight up murder you and bury you in his backyard if you ever dared leave him, who doesnât give two shits whether itâs clichĂŠ or notâif he canât have you, no one can.
MC purposefully doing little things to let the brothers fuss over them
+ getting small elements of Devildom customs wrong so Lucifer has no choice but to show you how it's properly done. he's on to your little game instantly but you can see the playful glint in his eyes as he pretends to play along. you can feel him close in to you as he places a possessive hand around your waist in order to lead you though the steps you missed.
+ pretending to be way more scarred of the movie you're watching than you actually are so Mammon can get all bold and brave about protecting you (even if he's more scared himself). catching side glances of him trying to stay calm during jumpscares as he hugs you just a little bit tighter.
+ picking a game you know you struggle with to play with Levi knowing that you plan to ask him for help on harder levels, bringing him out of his shell so he can be your 'valiant knight'. leaning into him as he sits behind you, guiding your hands on the controller through different combos.
+ asking Satan to help you with your coursework and letting him share his knowledge with you. purposefully answering a few questions wrong so he carefully leans over you to look at the same page until he decides that maybe becoming your permanent tutor and spending more time with you is for the best.
+ letting your nailpolish chip so you can watch Asmo get all worked up and pull you into his room to fix it. staring at him fondly as he concentrates while holding your hand gently in order to get the perfect strokes. once he's finished he's sure to insist that you might as well stay for a full spa night.
+ telling Beel you keep forgetting to eat lunch at RAD because you've been so busy/keep getting distracted and letting him insist on eating with you everyday so you stay healthy. chatting and laughing with him next to you everyday, occasionally letting him give you a bite of his food much to the shock of everyone.
+ knocking on Belphie's door late at night telling him that you can't sleep because of a bad dream. shuffling over to his bed as he lifts the covers to let you in. snuggling you into his arms to make sure you don't fall and that if you wake up again you know that you're safe with him.
đ Oops! You made a friend at the Mer sanctuary.
You're just a caretaker, you feed them, clean the tanks, make sure they're content and check for any sick or injured mers.
You've really loved this jobâŚup until now.
âI know he looks scary, Doll, but he's just playing."
Your superior pats you on the back as you stare at the huge mer on the other side of the glass. His big black eyes bore into you, sharp grin bared with his huge hands placed flat on the glass.
Yeah, he's obviously trying to scare you but that doesn't make it any less scary!
âHe can get touchy but you just gotta shoo him away."
She waves you into the room where his tank is and you hesitantly walk in with all your cleaning gear. He gets a little secluded tank all to himself because apparently he bullies the other mers and likes scaring guests that come past the small observation window of the tanks.
You keep the door open for some sense of comfort, your steps echoing in the silent room. His head pops up from the water, only his eyes visible as he watches you get all your gear ready. You stand at the edge of the steps leading into his tank for a moment and he stays in his same spot, unblinking.
You shuffle around in your pocket and pull out a sardine, tossing it in front of him. He watches the dead fish sink into the water and then points his gaze right back at you.
You resist a shiver, sighing in defeat and taking the first few steps into the shallow waters. As soon as you reached knee deep, he sinks down into the water and you can see his huge figure swim deeper into the darker parts of the tank.
Hoping that he lost interest, you decide to just get this over with as quick as possible and start wiping down the thick glass of the tank. You wipe down the whole upper part of the tank closest to the surface while trying not to think about how you'll possibly clean everywhere else.
Every now and then you feel a brush against your leg or a force in the water next to you but you end up getting the whole top section of the tank done without much incident.
You sit on the edge of the tank, getting your scuba gear ready, eyes flicking around the pool every now and then. The silence makes everything so unsettling, it feels like he's just waiting for-
You don't even register the huge black blur moving towards you before he bursts out of the water, claws and teeth bared. You scream and swing your fist at the thing your instincts are telling you is trying to eat you, punching the mer right in the nose.
A gasp leaves you as you realise what you've done, holding in a tense breath as he groans and cradles his face. He looks at his bloody hand and then back at you in what appears to be shock. You wait for him to rip you in two but he just stares. Then his mouth slowly turns up in a sharp grin, blood still dripping from his nose.
He lunges forward and your scream is cut short when he wraps his thick arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into your stomach. You wheeze at the crushing hug, confused and still scared but if his happy clicking sounds are anything to go by, he definitely doesn't want to kill you.
You're not sure if you would've preferred cleaning the tank in constant fear for your life or if having a massive mer clinging to you the whole time was the better option.
You managed to get it done, with much struggle. He actually helped you a little at first, but got bored quickly and opted for seeing how far he could unzip your swimsuit before you swatted him away. He also stole one of your flippers at one point and only gave it back when you gave him sufficient head scratches.
Once the job was done, you knew he wouldn't just let you leave, and you kind of felt bad when you started packing up and he let out sad little whines, so you sat on the edge of the tank, patting his head until your superior came looking for you.
âSoâŚyou punched him?"
You sheepishly nodded to her, munching gratefully on the donut she brought for you since you missed your lunch break.
âand now he's in love with you?â
You give her a solemn nod this time, watching as he traces patterns on your thigh.
âWell, shit."
All you can do is nod once more in agreement to that accurate assesment of your situation.
the sun pours over your body as you walk along empty handed with sukuna holding all the bags and beach equipment. baby!yuji patters along on the mildly hot sand, running on levels of adrenaline only a six year old could muster.
the beach is filled with families similar to yours, children playing in the water, people tanning in the deliciously hot sun and rounds of volleyball being tossed around by large friend groups.
sukuna places down your lounging chairs with an attached shaded umbrella, and plops down with all the bags containing various miscellaneous things.
yuji sticks his tongue out slightly, eyes lighting up with mischief and tries to make a beeline for the water before you grab him by the collar.
âno one gets out there without sunscreenâ you wave a finger at him, instructing him to settle down.
yuji pouts impatiently swinging his legs while you get out the bottle of kids sunscreen and rub it on every bit of his exposed skin.
your son wrinkles his nose when you reach for his face applying the lotion in soft rhythmic motions. you proceed to pinch his cheeks and give him a little kiss there while yuji giggles.
sukuna watches you fuss over the brat with mild amusement. his eyes squint under the sun, and drop to admire what youâve got on.
a frilly little thing exposing your beautiful curves.
sukuna scans the area noting any men looking towards your general direction and stares them down with a cutting glare only he could manage. a look that screamed âlook away before i come dislocate that head myselfâ for good measure.
while yuji runs off to play in the sand, you turn to him with the sunscreen bottle in hand and a knowing smile.
âyour turnâ
sukuna scoffs from where heâs sprawled back in the beach chair, one arm lazily hanging off the side.
âi donât burnâ
âyes you doâ
âi literally donâtâ
âyour nose got pink last timeâ
his eyes narrow immediately, âit did not.â
âyou then complained that it itched and brooded about it the whole timeâ
âi donât broodâ
you hum ignoring his offense entirely and pat your thighs.
âcâmereâ
he stares at you for a long second before clicking his tongue and leaning forward anyway because despite all his dramatics, sukuna has never once denied you when you used that tone on him.
you snort as sukuna settles in front of you. his massive frame blocks the sun completely and he smells like saltwater and heat already despite barely having stepped into the ocean.
you squeeze sunscreen into your palms and rub it across his shoulders.
his muscles flex beneath your hands while you smooth lotion over the dark markings curling along his skin, careful and thorough despite the way he eyes you.
you drag your fingers over his neck and jaw, rubbing sunscreen into the bridge of his nose while he looks deeply inconvenienced by affection.
âlook downâ
âthis is humiliating.â
âlook down, so i can get the back of your neck.â
he grumbles under his breath but tilts his chin downward anyway. his previously bored, half lidded eyes, dilate at the sight of your cleavage, right. in. his. face.
how blissful.
yuji bursts into giggles. you had spiked up sukunaâs hair to stand up in a funky way.
âyou look funny papaâ
sukuna grimaces.
âwant me to throw you into the ocean?â
âyeah!â
ââŚâ
you laugh so hard you nearly smear sunscreen into sukunaâs eye.
you take turns, with sukuna now applying sunscreen onto your back.
eventually yuji tears off toward the shoreline with a plastic bucket in hand, sandals abandoned somewhere behind him.
you lean back into your chair with a satisfied sigh while sukuna sits beside you, one arm draped lazily behind your head.
for a while the two of you simply watch.
yuji jumps over tiny waves, yelling triumphantly every single time he successfully crosses one.
he crouches to collect shells with complete seriousness only to abandon them three seconds later because another wave has appeared.
his little laugh carries over the water. your chest feels warm.
âhe looks like you when he gets excited,â you murmur, nuzzling against the base of sukunaâs neck.
âpoor kidâ
you elbow him lightly, âit is cute sukuna, you are cuteâ
before sukuna can mull over your words, yuji suddenly turns around spotting the two of you immediately.
âpapa!! come here!!â
sukuna pretends not to hear,
âpapa!!â
you mouth a slight âgoâ as your husband sighs dramatically before obliging as per usual.
the water reaches just beneath his knees when yuji grabs his hand excitedly and starts dragging him around with all the strength a six year old could possess.
you pad in after them enjoying the waves and the feel of soft sand beneath your bare feet.
you smile to yourself. it is almost absurd seeing sukuna getting ordered around by a child carrying a neon orange shovel.
yuji points toward a lopsided sandcastle near the shore, âhelp me make it BIGGERâ he sticks his arms out to act out how big he wanted it to be.
sitting back down on your chair you try not to look too amused as sukuna crouches down into the sand.
his large hands awkwardly shape wet sand while yuji gives deeply unnecessary instructions beside him.
âmore towerâ
sukuna looks over at you, pleading for an escape. you wave him off.
âitâs a sandcastle not a fortressâ he mutters back.
âmore towerâ yuji runs about, sometimes gathering sand and sometimes water. most of the time being largely unhelpful.
sukuna clicks his tongue and adds another tower.
hours later the sky begins softening into gold.
yujiâs exhausted enough now to become clingy, dragging his feet through the sand while holding onto sukunaâs hand.
âi need to wash my feetâ you brush sand off your legs with a tired groan.
before you can even move, sukuna bends down and scoops you into his arms effortlessly.
you yelp, âkunaââ
he pats you lower thigh,âstop squirmingâ
people nearby glance over briefly before immediately looking away once sukuna glares in their direction.
you hide your snicker against his shoulder while he carries you toward the rinse station near the boardwalk.
the water runs cool over your feet as he holds you securely against his chest, an arm around your waist like you weigh nothing at all.
yuji stands beside him sleepily rubbing his eyes.
once your feet are clean, sukuna sets you carefully onto the bench.
then without a word, he crouches down.
you blink.
â..whatâre you doing?â
he grabs your sandals from beside the bench.
âyour feetâll get dirty again.â
years of loving him and your heart still stutters stupidly.
sukuna slides the sandals onto your feet one by one with mild annoyance etched across his face, but you know better. his love language when it came to you, was acts of service.
meanwhile yuji watches with narrowed eyes, âpapa..?â
âwhat.â
âthatâs sooo romanticâ he smiles ear to ear.
sukuna immediately flicks water at his forehead.
yuji screeches dramatically while you laugh loud enough that people turn to look again.
âwhere did he even learn that?â sukuna asks, a mild smile overtaking his usual harsh features.
you shrug, in a dream-like trance, the domesticity of this moment making your heart soar.
and for once, sukuna doesnât care at all.
firefly; you guys wanted longer fics so hehe i hope this was good
The fireplace still crackled. It was the snap of a burning twig that woke you up. Your eyes fluttered open against their will and you inhaled a deep breath while taking in your surroundings.
Candles around the room burned low, bathing the living room in a dim golden twilight. The last thing you remembered was a strange party game. You had trouble following the rules, it required magic to play and involved trading mystery gifts. The scent of demonus filled your nose. The demons had gotten drunk while you sipped it like punch and watched them get overly boisterous.
There was wrapping paper everywhere. Like carnage, streaks of it were thrown around the floor. It overflowed from a single trash bag and spilled out around the tree. Balls of the stuff sat around like tumbleweeds waiting for an opportune wind.
There was a scrap of it in Beelzebub's hair. A bit was wedged under Satan's armpit, still partially attached to some new book. You could see them clearly because the two were curled up against you. Beelzebub had his head on your chest, facing you, and was beginning to drool. Your hand was buried in his hair. It must have felt nice while sleeping. You'd have moved if Satan's head wasn't in your lap, his hand resting on your thigh.
It took a minute to realize all of you were in a pile next to the Christmas tree. Mammon's head was flush against yours. You could feel his ear pressing against the crown of your head and hear his light snoring.
The one on your legs must have been Leviathan. Your feet felt numb under all the weight, but it was certainly cozy having him squeeze your calf muscles like a hug pillow.
Asmodeus was a little ways away, using Satan's rear as his pillow, but he must have grabbed your hand before falling asleep. He held it like a treasured security blanket on his cheek. You felt each deep, slow breath between your fingers when he exhaled. You couldn't help but curl your index finger and lightly brush his face. Asmodeus always had such smooth skin.
While busy enjoying the moment, you realized you were on something. You were actually on several things. Flicking your eyes upwards revealed Lucifer and Belphegor leaned against the tree, partially obscured by its thick branches. You and Mammon must have been splitting Belphegor's lap as a pillow. The youngest leaned against his older brother's shoulder, while his older brother looked down at you.
You didn't expect Lucifer to be awake. He was quiet, enjoying the moment. In much the same way you were petting Asmodeus, Lucifer smiled when your eyes met and rubbed a finger over your upper arm. He didn't seem to mind you on top of his legs. Demon circulatory systems must be made of sturdy stuff.
The chorus of snores and Lucifer's gentle affection would soon send you back to sleep. Parties were fun, but you prized simple moments like this a lot, too.
in which the men turn to the AITA subreddit for opinions on their relationship disputes. the comments aren't always the most...supportive
warnings: just fluff and crack, some cursing, some sexual language, prob not the most accurate depiction of reddit (I am not familiar with the platform so I did my best lol), non curse au mostly, NOT PROOFREAD (this was a pain to edit you don't even know so I don't want to hear it)
featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna
and maybe he was finally being punished for the lineages heâd ended and the villages he had destroyed to deserve this.
a wife who became intellectual from the sake.
he approached you sure footed, he always knew where you were. just from the way you hugged your knees and gazed towards the sky he knew you were undoubtedly drunk.
you didnât even look at him when he sat down.
âi demanded your presenceâ he spoke settling into a pose slightly similar to yours.
you hummed absently, âi was thinking.â
youâd gone strangely quiet.
that was always the first sign.
no dramatics. no stumbling around his estate. no demanding affection or starting arguments for entertainment.
instead, you became thoughtful.
suddenly you turned in your spot on the engawa, noting the lucidity of the night, and the silence that followed with the rest of the palace workers gone to rest until the next day.
âmay i ask you a question my lord?â you patted sukunaâs thigh to get his attention.
he didnât move, nor reply but didnât object either.
âdo you think people like me are remembered?â
sukuna glanced sideways at you, âpeople like you?â
you picked up ur drink and tilted the cup slowly, watching the sake shift inside it.
âwomen beside powerful men.â
ah.
there it was.
that strange melancholy that sometimes surfaced when you drank too much.
sukuna knew it was not insecurity even if he didnât understand further, it still intrigued him how much it mattered for the human race, to be remembered.
âthe names of emperors are remembered,â you continued softly, âwarriors, clan heads, men who shape erasâ
crickets chirped and a low wind carried the scent of jasmines planted at your request, across the foyer.
âbut the women beside them become footnotes at best, most of them donât even make it to the scrollâ
sukuna rested one arm across his knee, keen on voicing his opinion, âyou care too much about historyâ
âi think history reveals what people consider valuableâ
your voice remained stoic, thoughtful.
âno one writes about the woman who sat beside the monster,â you murmured, âonly the monster himselfâ
a pause.
then sukuna turned his head slowly toward you, amusement flickering across his face.
âso i am a monster to you?â
you blinked at him.
âwell objectivelyâ
the silence afterward lasted exactly one second before sukuna barked out a laugh, âand yet you still sit beside meâ
âthatâs because Iâve already accepted i have questionable judgmentâ you wave your glass in the air dismissively, âstop changing the topic, kunaâ you scolded him.
the term, his name so lovingly shortened rolled of your tongue with such ease and no honorific, only dismissible due to your drunken state.
or maybe always.
sukuna chose not to comment on it, settling for a humble,
âhm.â
âin the grand scheme of things, what am i? if not just a speck in your lifeâ he opened his mouth ready to retort when you held up a hand, silencing him.
how did you not see your own importance? who else could command the king of curses in such a way?
âbut to me, this is everything. this is all i have and it makes it all the more precious..that it all just ends one dayâ you giggle a bit, melancholics a right of passage in this state.
âalas, forgottenâ you rest your cheek on your knee wistfully looking up at sukuna ready for him to speak.
but heâs silent, woeful and utterly silent.
could it be that youâd gone too far? the haze from the sake wasnât helping clearly you had misjudged, to get out of such a situation deemed to be a deplorable task even for the likes of you.
âforget i said that,â you mumble, a weak laugh caught in your throat, âthe sake is making me sentimentalâ
âhumans,â sukuna says quietly, âspeak of being forgotten because your lives are too short to endure insignificanceâ
his voice is absent of mockery.
âyou fear death less than you fear leaving no mark behindâ
your brows knit slightly, you hadnât expected him to understand at all.
he watches the lantern flame instead of you now.
âbut i have lived long enough to know memory is not mercyâ you watch the wind ruffle his peculiar crimson tinted hair as he speaks,
âentire eras rot inside me: names, faces, wars, prayersâ his expression hardens faintly ânone of them matter, time erodes all things evenly.â
for a moment, he looks exhausted by his own immortality. you had not expected that at all.
you swallow.
âthen whatâs the point?â you ask softly.
his eyes flick back to yours.
and for the first time that night, sukuna looks almost caught off guard by the answer forming within himself.
âthere is none,â he says. ânot in the grand scheme you speak ofâ he lightens his tone mocking the pitch of your voice and you smile faintly.
his gaze lowers briefly to your slumped posture, your tired eyes, the warmth of your knee brushing his side without fear.
âbut meaning was never something inherent.â
a pause.
âit is assignedâ
you feel the weight of the statement as sukuna leans back slightly, like the admission itself irritates him.
âdo you think i would sit here entertaining drunken philosophy for just anyone?â thereâs no softness in his tone. if anything, itâs sharp, defensive.
heâs offended by the importance of you in his life which makes it all the more devastating.
one day, when you passed on forgotten or not, he would remain and he would remember. you hadnât thought about it like that, you had thought only for yourself, the realization was jarring.
âcenturies pass like weather to me,â he murmurs. âyet i know the sound of your footsteps apart from others. i know when your silence means anger and when it means sorrow. i know when your kisses are thoughtless things, and when they linger like a final act.â
his jaw tightens subtly.
âso if all existence amounts to dust eventually..â his eyes narrow at you, almost accusingly, âthen explain why you alone remain.â
Itâs been three hours since it happened, and the fury has yet to subside. If anything, the silence in your shared apartment is making it worse, fanning the flames of your irritation until you feel like a walking, talking inferno. A very pregnant, very uncomfortable inferno.
It started simply enough. You were heading to the kitchen for your fourth glass of water in the last hour â this baby was apparently determined to turn your bladder into its own personal water park. Thatâs when you caught it: a low chuckle from the living room sofa.
You paused, one hand on your burgeoning belly, the other on the small of your back, trying to alleviate the ever-present ache. âWhatâs so funny?â
Sukunaâs laughter wasnât the full-throated, arrogant sound that usually echoed through your home. No, this was a suppressed, wheezing thing, the kind of laugh that happens when youâre trying desperately not to, which only makes it a hundred times worse. He was buried in his phone, but his shoulders were shaking.
âNothing,â he managed to get out, his voice strained.
You narrowed your eyes. âIt doesnât sound like nothing. What are you laughing at?â
He finally looked up, and thatâs when you saw it. The glint of amusement in his crimson eyes, the smirk playing on his lips. He was trying to school his features into something neutral, but he was failing spectacularly.
âItâs justâŚâ He gestured vaguely in your direction. âThe way youâre walking.â
The air in the room seemed to crystallize. You could feel your blood pressure skyrocket. âThe way Iâm walking?â you repeated, your voice dangerously low.
âYeah,â he said, and the idiot actually chuckled again. âYouâre waddling.â
And that was it. The dam of your carefully maintained composure broke.
âWaddling?â you shrieked, and you were vaguely aware that you sounded like a tea kettle reaching its boiling point, but you couldnât bring yourself to care. âI am not waddling! I am carrying your child! A human being! Do you know how much this weighs? It feels like Iâm smuggling a watermelon, and youâre over there, laughing at me?â
The smirk on his face finally vanished, replaced by a look of dawning horror. Heâd been with you long enough to recognize the signs of an impending hormonal meltdown. He slowly put his phone down, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.
âOkay, okay, baby, Iâm sorry,â he said, his voice placating. âIt was a stupid thing to say. Youâre not waddling. Youâre⌠gliding. Like a majestic, pregnant swan.â
âA majestic, pregnant swan?â you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. âDo I look like a swan to you, Sukuna? Do I?â
He wisely chose not to answer that question. He stood up, crossing the room in a few long strides, and tried to pull you into his arms. You sidestepped him, your arms crossed over your chest (or, as much as you could with your belly in the way).
âDonât touch me,â you snapped. âI canât even look at you right now.â
And that was the crux of the problem, wasnât it? You were furious with him, so angry you could spit nails, but the thought of actually being away from him was unbearable. Your hormones were a tangled mess of contradictions, and you were just along for the ride.
Thatâs when the idea struck you. It was brilliant in its absurdity, a perfect solution to your current predicament.
âGo get a paper bag,â you commanded.
Sukuna blinked. âA what?â
âA paper bag,â you repeated, pointing a finger at him. âFrom the pantry. The big ones we use for recycling. Go get one.â
He looked at you as if youâd grown a second head, but he didnât argue. He knew better than to argue with you in this state. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later, holding a large brown paper bag.
âOkay,â he said, holding it out to you. âNow what?â
âPut it on your head,â you said, your voice deadpan.
He stared at you, the bag dangling from his hand. âYouâre kidding, right?â
âDo I look like Iâm kidding?â you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He sighed, a long-suffering sound that you had become very familiar with over the past few months. He unfolded the bag, and with a final, defeated look in your direction, he pulled it over his head.
And so, here you are, three hours later. Sukuna is sitting on the sofa, a paper bag over his head, and youâre on the armchair opposite him, still fuming. The silence is thick with unspoken words, a testament to the ridiculousness of the situation.
You have to admit, itâs a little hard to stay mad at a man with a paper bag on his head. Every so often, you can hear him sigh, a muffled sound from within his paper prison. Youâve made him cut eyeholes in the bag, so you know heâs watching you, but you refuse to meet his gaze.
âAre you still mad at me?â he asks, his voice distorted by the bag.
âYes,â you say, your voice clipped.
âIt was a joke,â he says, his voice softer now. âA stupid one, Iâll admit. But I didnât mean anything by it.â
âIt wasnât funny,â you say, your voice wavering slightly. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and you hate it. You hate that youâre so emotional, that you can go from rage to tears in the span of a few seconds.
âI know, baby,â he says, and he sounds genuinely remorseful. âIâm sorry. I really am.â
You sniff, trying to hold back the tears. âYouâre just lucky I love you,â you mumble.
âI know,â he says again, and you can hear the smile in his voice, even through the bag. âIâm the luckiest man in the world.â
He stands up and walks over to you, the paper bag rustling with every step. He kneels in front of you, and you can feel his hands on your knees, his touch warm and familiar.
âCan I take this off now?â he asks, his voice a low rumble.
You hesitate for a moment, then nod. He reaches up and pulls the bag off his head, and youâre met with the sight of his handsome face, his eyes soft with affection. He leans in and kisses you, a slow, tender kiss that makes your heart melt.
âI love you,â he murmurs against your lips.
âI love you too,â you say, your voice thick with emotion. âEven if you are an idiot.â
He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through you. âI know,â he says.
And as he pulls you in for another kiss, you know that heâs right. Heâs your idiot, and you wouldnât have it any other way. Even if he does make you want to strangle him sometimes.
an: y'all my favorite influencer is pregnant and i got this idea when i saw her waddle cause its so cute ughhh
Idk how this is even gonna work but I just love the idea of a non-sorcerer whoâs really down on their luck and is open to do any job. ANYTHING. Even the job listing about kidnapping the strongest sorcerer around.
You have no idea what sorcerers are, but youâre desperate and you take it without a second thought. By some miracle you manage to break into Gojoâs penthouse (weird how thereâs no security system, right?) and clumsily declare how resistance is futile and he needs to come with you.
And satoru justâŚ.goes with it.
For a kidnapper youâre really nice. You constantly ask if the rope needs to be looser. His hands are kinda preoccupied so you have to hand feed him the delicious food you made for him. The fact that you can cook do is also a plus. you practically wait on him hand and foot.
And letâs be honest, Gojo has no vacation days so heâs taking every chance he can get.
He gets so used to being pampered that he straight up just refuses to go back.
Naturally the Gojo clan is furious that their weaponâuh assetâuh toolâ really really important member of the family has been taken. they have a couple powerful sorcerers of their own so it should be a piece of cake to break in to wherever youâre keeping him and killing you. Except they canât even get miles within your place, itâs as though Gojo is intentionally putting up a veil to protect his kidnapper.
Oh wait, thatâs exactly what heâs doing.
It gets so bad that Gojo stops pretending heâs your helpless captive and teleports back to his family home to demand that they pay the ransom. 2 million? Thatâs way too fucking low. 20 million-no 200 million.
eventually he needs to get back to his life someday so he stops making a ruckus for everyone. When the ransom is paid, he naturally kills the people who talked you into doing this so you get all the money. Its a happy ending for exactly two people
All of this is naturally a huge blow for the gojo clan. To make matters even worse, satoru somehow convinces you to marry him after that fiasco. And nobody within the gojo clan ever breathes a word that the wife of the gojo head is actually a criminal who kidnapped him that one time. It just turns into yet another skeleton in the closet.
Satoru likes to ask everyone what they first thought of him.
Most say the same thing. Nanami says, 'An annoyance' and Shoko mutely responds with a 'pain in the ass', but Satoru knows they love him in their own way. Everyone else says 'the strongest'.
When he asks you, the strangest thing happens.
Your words die in your mouth, and you look away. You start babbling words he can't understand, and he feels his lips curl into a smile as he leans in even closer.
"I thought you were cool," you finally say.
"Uh-huh." he grins as you continue to avoid his gaze. "Liar."
"I did!" You brush him off.
"You definitely thought of something else." He taps a hand on his chin. "Was it naughty?"
You shake your head aggressively, eager to change the subject, and now he wants to know even more.
He gets his answer months later, when you're drunk and slumped across his shoulder. This time, when he asks, you're a lot less dogged.
"You can't tell him I said this, okay?" Your voice slurs as you continue to lean into him. "You can't tell Satoru. It's a secret." You clumsily push your finger to your lips, loudly shushing in his ear.
"I promise I won't," Satoru assures you as he lets you cling onto him, eager to claim his prize after waiting for so long.
"It's so mean, it's just one of those...intrusive thoughts, but I always wondered how inbred he is."
He blinks. What?
"I mean, he's gotta be right?" You continue, oblivious to the frozen man. "I bet the Gojo clan was all about 'keeping it in the family' or whatever. It's not like I'm blaming him, but you really gotta' wonder."
"You think...he looks....inbred." He repeats your words with a flat tone.
"I mean, not in a bad way." Is there a good way? "He looks like he'd fit right in with the Targeryens, and those guys are so beautiful even though they're only into their sisters and cousins. Wait, do I like inbred-looking men?" You cut yourself off with a drunken laugh.
You reach for your cup. Satoru stops you.
"I'm taking you home." He tells you flatly. You whine and complain as he drags you out of the bar.
When you're dropped off at home and asleep underneath blankets, Satoru sits right outside your apartment. His hands grip the steering wheel as he replays your words over and over again.
Well, you did say you liked men who looked inbred, he thinks as he fiddles with his fingers.
yuji is a very rotund baby. (part of my endless baby!yuji series)
âheâs getting fat.â
âgasp!! how dare youâthat is my SON.â
âheâs not your son.â sukuna gruffs out, almost mad at the attention you were giving his nephewâattention that you couldâve been giving him.
all the sugary cookies stuffed with chocolates seemed to be stashed away for yuji now, with you hiding them in jars far, far from sukunaâs reach. he always complained about you making him lose his âgainsâ or whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.
but now, you had a baby with a sweet tooth more than willing to indulge in every sugary concoction you seemed to cook up, every ridiculous dish lathered up in butter and spices and yuji always seemed more than happy to comply.
he was getting a little chubby though, his cheeks rounder, his arms a lot pudgier and gods it just made you wanna keep him in your pockets and hide him away from everyone.
sukuna on the other hand, was fuming. you used to bother him with your stupid experimental dishes, you used to overfeed him until his abs were softening, and now here you were cooing at yuji before giving yuji a spoonful of your curry while yuji babbled.
âyâŚyummy!!â he squealed while you fed him the rest of the curry, while sukuna pouted in the corner.
âam i invisible in my own house?â
âdonât pout, kuna i make enough food for everyone.â
âyeah, but you donât feed me.â he was still pouting, his lips jutting out while he looked away from you dramatically, his arms crossed before him.
you moved in front of him, a spoonful of a piping hot curry in hand, slowly bringing it to his lips while sukunaâs pout slowly melted away.
his face began to flush almost immediately, his tastebuds aflameâhe almost forgot how much chilli you put in post of your dishes, the spices clouding him while his face went beet red.
yuji was giggling like a menace, his little cheeks puffed out while his big, scary uncle struggled to swallow the curry.
âtoo spicy?â you giggled staring at yuji while you both laughed at sukunaâs little predicament.
âhow did the brat eat this just fine?â
âwell, heâs used to my cooking now.â
ââŚgive me that spoon.â
âas long as you donât burn the roof of your mouth.â you giggled handing over a bowl of curry over a bed of piping hot rice over to him.
âjust admit you have a worse spice tolerance than a four year old, kuna.â
this is inspired by this artwork !! here i didnât wanna go on hiatus out of the blue!! so have a lil smtg okay <3 and i have a birthday fic lined up for @yoonsucks so look out for that >_0 !! and ill be cooking the cross over fics too!!
divider credits: @angeliicide .
all work belongs to @liliklei , do not copy, repost, translate or feed into AI !!
sukuna considered his predicament to rival the torment of sisyphus.
really.
that dude with the stone had nothing on him.
having to leave his comfortable haven everyday for work was such a treacherous task, sukuna had started to hate even the thought of being roused from his slumber.
currently the alarm blares into his ear, and he groans feeling the press of such plush softness against his skin.
he turns his head to, you.
youâre sleeping on his chest, one arm and leg draped over, hair strewn across the pillow and breaths indicating deep sleep, ricocheting through and through.
sukuna canât help the clench of his heart. and maybe soul.
how could he leave now? when you looked so adorable, so warm, so very his?
his rubs his messy bed hair, trying to think of a way to bring the moon down so it was night again.
was it not a crime to abandon oneâs wife to the perils of a cold bed?
any excuse to return back to your arms.
alas, the world is unfair and his days of reeking havoc for slight inconveniences are long past.
sukuna carefully slides your arm and leg off his chest, not before leaning forward and giving you the most tender kiss known to mankind on your forehead.
gods if you saw him acting like this when awake, heâd be a laughing stock.
so he kisses you now, in secret, deeply breathing in your much welcome scent.
when heâs done his due diligence at getting ready he pauses once again at the door, taking in the sight of you.
as if by some magnetic pull or siren song your slumbering lures him in.
he quite literally fights demons to leave for work, clicking the door shut on his way out.
to the one who dares deny me her presence, you left without permission. return at once.
your lord, ryomen sukuna.
the third letter, arrives in a much longer scroll.
how troublesome. you forget yourself, woman. there is no place you may go that is beyond my reach. had i wished it, you would have been returned to my side before nightfall. consider it generosity that you were not. do not ignore my scrolls.
your lord, ryomen.
the fourth letter,
since i cannot imagine there is much in those lands to interest you, i can only suppose your continued absence is due to your ever prolonging distaste with me.
i urge you: come be angry at a nearer distance.
your husband, R.S.
the fifth letter,
you are in no mood for games. very well. i am in no mood for them, either.
let me say it outright: there are moments brief, and increasingly frequent in which i reach for you without thought. this displeases me, i am not accustomed to such absence from you, nor restraint.
you have forced both upon me.
come home and shout at me. come home and fight with me. come home and break my heart, if you must. it has become yours only to break. just come home.
your husband, sukuna.
the next letter,
not even responding to my missives is ridiculous and beneath you and i hate it.
atleast inform me of your health.
ryomen sukuna
and then finally, your reply,
stop writing to me, at once. my wedded lord you have trespassed much and caused me such nuisance, it is quite enough now.
i am well. but do not pretend as if you may not already know that. you think i am not aware of my new ladyâs maid keeping an eye on me, certainly appointed to report back to you?
consider it my generosity that i let her stay, and consider it my ignorance towards your repetitive letters for my lack of response.
if i receive any such scroll from you, i shall burn it.
signed, yours.
and his response,
surely if your lovely eyes may not grace my lowly epistles, then i shall speak freely.
to my most willful wife, you command me to cease, and yet you write at length. i had not realized i occupied you so thoroughly. as for your ladyâs maid, you give me too much credit. if she watches you, it is because you are worth watching. i would hardly entrust such a task to another. although i cannot speak for what ways uraume employs to inform me on your health..
i have been told it is unbecoming to repeat oneself so, i will not ask you to return again. you may remain where you are, in whatever peace you have convinced yourself you prefer. i will not contest it.
and yet, i find myself wondering: why you will not come back of your own accord. have you no consideration, for your neglected husband?
the hand you force, your husband.
to my most theatric husband, you mistake response for preoccupation. do not flatter yourself, i write only to correct what you insist on misunderstanding.
as for being âworth watching,â you dress surveillance in pretty language, you always had a knack for that. for such sweet talk will not work on me, do not expect gratitude for it.
if your husband is neglected, perhaps he should consider why.
signed, your wife, unfortunately.
to my most contrary wife, âunfortunately,â and yet you take such care to sign it. i wonder if your hand hesitated at all.
as for your refusal of gratitude, keep it, i did not ask for it. you suggest your husband reflect on his neglect. i have. thoroughly. i apologize for everything end this torment for me wife, for i can bear it no longer.
you insist my words hold no effect on you now. how curious, has distance made you bold, or merely forgetful? i recall a time not long past, when your resolve was far less reliable. how easily it would slip from you, how quickly your protests would soften when i would indulge you, a little more closely. đđ¸
have you truly forgotten? or are you simply daring me to remind you?
very well. do not worry, i will remind you, not behind these papers this time. consider that a courtesy, one last chance to brace yourself or do you prefer to test me?
i would find it entertaining, either way.
your lord and husband, R.S.
my lord, you are most unfair!
do not be naughty, ryomen. i warn you, what you speak of this âreminderâ it is highly improper. and what if someone else were to see it? consider your poor wifeâs reputation!
your teasing is relentless, and i am most vexed. you threaten of your arrival, yet remain absent, perhaps one day, your threats will find action..though i dare not hope it too loudly.
if you intend to test my resolve, i suggest you waste no more time. come, then, and take me with you, lest i change my mind.
apology accepted, your wife.
a shorter note, in refined handwriting,
lord ryomen sukuna will be arriving soon.
his subject, uraume.
firefly; this is probably my first fic where i have worked SO hard on formatting it, i hope you guys enjoy âŕ˝´Í â
inspo: by cardanâs letters to jude from the folk of the air series.
yuji was sukunaâs worst nemesisâyes, youâd heard him say this a million times before, and heâd say it again, and no, he had no shame that he was quite literally trying to outsmart a toddler to get your attention.
the pink haired boy always clung to you like a parasiteâalways throwing a fit and sobbing if he wasnât in your arms, and every single time he had a nightmare heâd crawl into your bee, plopping himself right between sukuna and you, and wailing until you gave him attention.
âsukuna quit staring at him.â
âheâs manipulating you and youâre falling for it, pretty.â
âsukuna heâs four!!â you were whisper shouting at him while yuji was curled up against your chest, drooling on your silken nightgown while sukuna eyed the kid like he had personally offended him.
what you never seemed to notice were the smug glances that yuji would throw at sukuna behind your backâsticking his little tongue out at him while you had yuji plopped over your shoulder while you cooked, while sukuna tried his hardest just to grit his teeth and mind his own business while the brat just hogged your attention.
the worst of it was when yuji would subtly bite sukunaâs hands when he tried to reach for you. he didnât need to be that close to you, he practically got to see you all the time. so it was only fair that yuji always got your unbridled attention while he was around.
he would always wail, and cry a little louder if sukuna got too closeâhe knew pouting at you and blinking his brown eyes while they welled with tears always got you to pick him up and spin him around while sukuna managed to spiral on the couch, wondering if abandoning a child on the streets would be worth it.
but sukuna couldnât deny the way his heart swelled when he saw you treat yuji with such careâalways so gentle while you had him in your arms, ruffling the kidâs hair, and carrying him around everywhere as if he were your own.
the way you just seemed to love absolutely everything, the way you were just so patient with the both of them, had him confronting feelings that he didnât know he was capable of.
and before he could stop his brain he was already picturing you in a flowy wedding dress; a bouquet in hand, only to be immediately snapped out of his daydream when a very chubby hand smacked him across the face, giggling.
âiâm gonna kill this brat.â
âstep away from the child, kuna.â you said pointing your rolling pin straight at him. yeah. he was definitely gonna marry you. and at least then heâd have all your attention to himself.
if u saw my tumblr crashing outâŚno u didntâŚwe still fw fluff dont we @yoonsucks hehee
all work belongs to @liliklei , do not copy, repost, translate or feed into AI !!
a cold chill runs through sukunaâs body as he grumbles half asleep something about leaving the window open.
annoyed, he moves to pull up his blanket to find it being tugged on with the sound of small sniffles filling the room.
âpapa?â
one of his crimson eyes shoot open locating where the sound is coming from, his senses heightened.
only to find his 3 year old son holding his plushie rubbing his eye with a small fist and incessantly sobbing.
sukuna sighs relieved that itâs just his bratty offspring, moving to sit up.
he looks down at his son chin resting on his hand with a raised brow.
âpapa y-yuji has a bad dreamâ he speaks through multiple hiccups.
sukuna is not impressed. putting his grumpiness aside his heart softens at his sons disposition.
he effortlessly grabs yuji bringing him into his arms and patting the back of his head.
âwhat dream?â he asks wondering what could bring a three year old to such distress.
this whole situation seemed silly to your husband. he was not taking it seriously.
âdoggy comes and bark and bites yujiâ he babbles through his limited grasp on language.
sukuna tries to hide his grin, seriously? he couldnât believe he had to deal with such stupidity.
seeing sukunaâs non-reassuring expression yuji proceeds to burst further into tears.
the sound finally wakes you and you stir in your sleep confused.
you immediately shift into action when you recognize the sound of your sons sobs.
âwhat happened??â you ask out of breath worry knitting your brows.
you push sukuna aside reaching out your hands to pull yuji into your arms âbaby whatâs wrong?â you kiss him on his forehead inspecting for any signs of hurt.
âbrat had a nightmareâ sukuna remarks shrugging yet still wanting you to calm down.
âoh yu tell me about itâ you wipe yujis tears with your hand leaning down to kiss his chubby cheek.
âbad doggy bite me and- and-papa laugh at meâ
this little snitch sukunaâs jaw tightens.
you slowly turn your head to look at your husband your glare shooting daggers.
âryomen.sukuna.is.this.funny.to.you?â you spoke through your teeth your tone laced with threat.
sukuna frowns throwing up his hands âi heard him out woman, there was no reason for him to make such a fussâ
âkuna heâs three!â you shake your head, disappointed.
youâd always lectured sukuna to be more considerate towards his son, to understand that he was a baby and needed to be treated as such.
your husband would always grumble under his breath about how he needed to toughen up so he wouldnât be a pussy and youâd smack him on his arm everytime warning him to be softer, kinder.
you knew you had to teach him a lesson.
âit was just a dream okay yu? it wasnât realâ you assure yuji rubbing his hair softly.
your son listens to you attentively his hiccups quieting down âbesides, if doggy was real then papa would protect you from it, right?â you aim that question at sukuna.
âwhateverâ your husband mumbles moving to go back to sleep now that the commotion was over.
however heâs pulled back by your hand on his arm ânot so quick tigerâ sukuna turns his head to look at you.
âyouâre gonna make it up to him and put him back to sleepâ you raise your chin your tone final.
yuji looks between the both of you âmama put papa in timeoutâ you laugh unexpectedly at how spot on yuji was.
he was going to be a very observant and caring kid you could just tell.
sukuna holds your gaze for a long time then finally gives in picking up yuji and carrying him to his room.
âyou should sleepâ he mutters to his son.
âiâm scared..â yuji speaks in a hushed tone.
sukunaâs heart melts and after a moment of self reflection he finally speaks apologizing in his own way.
âafter you sleep iâll go beat up bad doggyâ
âreally?â
âreally.â
soon enough yuji starts to feel drowsy, drooling on sukunaâs shoulder.
you watch from the doorway your heart filled with so much love for the both of them as sukuna tucks him in.
âbad doggy..â yuji mutters in his half asleep state.
âclose your eyesâ sukuna brushes his sons eyelids close.
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