Been inspired by some amazing writers on here to write some things. Hoping I can be brave enough to fill this with some original work soon! Watch this space I guess. Just don't know for how long 😅💙
Minors do not interact with my blog as I do reblog nsfw content and would rather not find under 18s interacting with anything here or any other blog! Thanks :)
Jujutsu Kaisen
Your One and Only - Gojo x Reader(Sincerely Not/Sincerely Yours (by @saintobio) inspired) Angst
Marked Forever - Gojo x Reader x Nanami (Inspired by ‘Permanent Mark’ by @tojikai) Angst, fluff, comfort
Attack On Titan
The Other Woman - Erwin Smith x Reader Modern AU Angst
The Office AU - Levi Ackerman x Reader Modern office AU Fluff, humour, platonic
Higuruma who…can’t focus when you’re around. He can’t read past a sentence, he can’t sign his signature, he can’t even turn the page. It’s not your fault—it’s completely his. Higuruma who ultimately leaves for his home office- he defintely won’t be getting any work done in the living room…and it seems the home office is no different. Higuruma who pops his head out of the doorway and calls out to you softly, “Honey- this is completely on me, however I am a weak man, but could you perhaps go to the other side of the house so I can read this one sentence? You’re looking particularly beautiful at the moment and it’s…distracting.”
“Hiromi- I’m in sweatpants, a ratty t-shirt, and no make-up?”
Nanami had never considered himself a jealous man.
possessive, perhaps, in small ways. protective? certainly.
but jealousy? it was messy. the sort of thing that clouded judgement and made people act irrationally.
Nanami preferred facts.
and the fact was that you were free to spend time with anyone. the fact that your smile didn't belong to him. and the fact that he trusted you completely.
but why—why had he spent the last twenty minutes staring at his phone?
the photo on the screen was harmless for god's sake!
a group picture from a company dinner. you sat near the center, smiling oh so sweetly to the camera.
but the problem is there was a man sitting beside you.
nothing appropriate or suspicious. just a coworker. a coworker whose arm was slung casually over the back of your chair.
a coworker who seemed to appear in every photos your friend posted. a coworker whose name you had mentioned bunch of times this week without realizing it.
Nanami locked his phone and set it face down on the table.
he hated this feeling. Not because he distrusted you.
there was no reason for the knot tightening in his chest.
there is no logical explanation for why he suddenly found himself wondering whether you smiled that brightly around everyone. or whether you looked at everyone the way you looked at him.
the apartment door opened suddenly, snapping him out of his trance.
"Kento?" your voice drifted through the hallway.
you stepped into the living room, smiling when you saw him.
"There you are."
Nanami returned the smile automatically.
but as you sat beside him and started talking about your day, he found himself listening for one name. and when it finally appeared in the conversation? his jaw tightened.
your words faltered. "Kento?" you looked at him carefully.
for a moment, neither of you spoke.
then, quietly, you asked. "Is there something wrong?"
he met your gaze briefly before looking away.
the silenced stretched. not uncomfortable, just heavy. Nanami wasn't entirely sure how to answer.
you knew your husband too well to notice when something was off.
"Kento."
"Hm."
"You're doing that thing."
his brows furrowed slightly. "What thing?"
"The thing where you pretend nothing's bothering you."
you moved closer on the couch, turning toward him fully.
"Did something happen at work?"
"No."
"Did someone annoy you?"
"Not particularly."
"Are you tired?"
"Always."
your expression only softened.
your fingers reached for his hand without thinking. you interwined your fingers with his.
"C'mon, talk to me?"
you waited patiently, giving him space to speak.
Nanami hated that he was making this difficult.
eventually, he said, "Who is he?"
you blinked. "...who?"
"The coworker."
your eyes widened slightly. "Oh."
for several seconds, you said nothing.
then, "Are you jealous?"
Nanami closed his eyes briefly. "Perhaps," he sighed.
your expression softened even further.
you shifted closer until your shoulder rested against his.
"I found him annoying," you started. "He talks too much, he steals food, he's arrogant too."
the corner of Nanami's mouth twitched. you caught it immediately.
"There he is."
"I was here the entire time."
"No, you were somewhere in your own head."
you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.
"I don't smile because of him," you sighed. "I smile because i was having fun."
his gaze softened. "I know," he admitted.
"Then why are you suffering by yourself?"
a faint huff escaped him, not quite a laugh.
"Because," he pulled your joined hands closer. "I was hoping it would stop if i ignored it."
"Did it work?"
"No."
you laughed. "That was unfortunate."
he laughed along with you. "It was."
the knot in his chest began to loosen.
not because the jealousy had vanished. but because you were looking at him exactly the way you always had.
“how did he get on the bookshelf?” you remark in disbelief.
your four year old, baby!yuji is currently perched up on the half bookshelf as if he owns the place.
“get down, brat” sukuna bares his teeth.
and yuji mimics his expression, sticking out his milk teeth as a retort.
you pinch your nose shaking your head.
the more yuji grew the more he acted like his father, sukuna.
at multiple separate incidents you’d caught on to their similar antics.
one time, you woke up from a nap with four crimson eyes blinking down at you, two smaller and two larger.
you jumped awake, “what?” you muttered looking between both father and son.
you were used to waking up to sukuna simply watching you sleep but for that to be doubled seemed to puzzle you.
“what?” sukuna shrugged, “whath..?” yuji chimed in.
such incidents just kept on happening.
after years of marriage you’d become used to sukuna’s strange albeit adoring habits.
anytime you both would be sitting idly with you in his arms he’d lean down and nibble onto your ear or your cheek. his canines brushing up on your skin.
you’d giggle in response pushing his face away, the habit so common that you didn’t choose to question its…cannibalistic nature.
until yuji did it to you.
“mama”
your eyes flicked down to your son, attentive.
“i have a secret” he motioned you to come closer and so you did.
his baby hands held your face as he feigned whispering in your ear. choosing instead to bite it lightly and give you the sweetest kiss on your cheek.
you cuddled him afterwards your cuteness aggression towards him skyrocketing as he squealed in your arms.
looking at yuji on the bookshelf now you shoot sukuna a look.
“it’s because of you”
sukuna looks at you aghast “how the hell-“
“you like sitting at an elevated spot”
“not the same thing” sukuna huffed under his breath grabbing yuji by his back like a stray kitten.
most kids would’ve cried at being treated like this but yuji just cheered “papa higher!” as if this was the best thing to happen to him.
Hello! I love your prison Toji and was wondering if i could request like, when the reader bear hugged him and toji attacked the reader, if we could get how it happened? I am a sucker for hurt/comfort 😭😭😭 if you dont feel like writing it then ignore the request
very heavily based on this older fic of mine :P prisoner toji au lives ! pls read tags
content: ex-inmate!toji x reader, established relationship, angst, lots of hurt/comfort, mentions of ptsd, make ups, little bit of ending fluff
a/n: been on an angst kick lately! thank you very much for your req. never written any hurt/comfort as detailed as this so i hope i did your idea justice lol
you don’t mean to scare toji.
in fact, you don’t even think he’s asleep when you clamber onto the mattress and wrap your arms around his neck, intending the gesture to be more of a hug than anything.
except, the joke doesn’t land. instead you’re flipped flat on your back faster than you can process, staring up at your boyfriend’s face as 5 trembling fingers hold you down by your throat
“don’t.. hhf-- get...out.” his voice sounds so distant, so quiet, like his thoughts aren’t entirely his. the hand on your neck doesn’t squeeze, only holding you against the pillows as the ex-inmate stares at you blankly.
he’s not all there, in fact there’s no trace of him behind his eyes. toji’s face is completely unmoving. pupils blown so wide that only a tiny ring of jade is visible.
you realize he’s still asleep. chest rising and falling in perfectly slow increments. you’d heard about incidents like this before, men coming home only to have sleepwalking outbursts. scaring the shit out of their wives and kids.
“toji” you whisper, eyes welling up with tears. “toji, wake up baby.”
you know he’d rather serve another sentence than ever hurt you. even in the midst of whatever sleep-trance he’s currently in, toji doesn’t constrict your airflow. doesn’t squeeze down in any capacity, doesn’t even lean his weight on you.
you unravel each finger one by one, breaking the lax grip he has on your neck. something behind his eyes shifts with that, and toji all but crumples on top of you, waking from his trance with a confused sound.
neither of you move.
you lay still, heart hammering against your rib cage. toji slowly comes to, rubbing the night from his eyes as you help him roll onto his back.
there’s a furrow between his brow, but not one of anger.
he’s scared, trembling with confusion as the details of his outburst come back to him.
your name escapes his lips so softly you barely even hear it. trembling like a leaf in the wind.
“it’s just me.” you whisper. not knowing what else to do.
toji’s expression softens at the reassurance, only for a moment before he sits up like he's been burned, chest rising with deep, ragged inhales.
both hands come up to his face, palms pressing hard into his eyes like he’s trying to press the memory out of his skull. shoulders hunched, like he wants to disappear into the mattress.
“fuck.” he shudders “oh my- fuck. i’m sorry. that’s not me. i’m so sorry.”
the words spill out of him like a faucet that can’t be turned off. he pulls back to look at his hands in disbelief, mumbling apologies and expletives until everything seems to blur together.
you try to sit up slowly, but pause when something catches your eye.
toji’s silent now, head resting his hands as he tries to regulate his own breathing.
that’s when everything registers for you. you follow the moonlight catching against the scars littering his body. crisscrossing his ribs, his shoulders, hip back. one on the left side of his neck that reappears right on the other side. some pale and faded from a time long before you. some still recent.
you remember how there always seemed to be more every visit. how toji had sat across from you in between smudged plexiglass, cracking jokes about seeing how many fights he could get into before the gave him a longer sentence. he never quite could bring himself to worry you. even if that meant treating everything like a joke.
your mouth opens. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have s—”
“god, no.” he cuts you off immediately.
toji’s hands drop to his sides, lying limp against the mattress in defeat. he doesn’t look at you. he can’t.
“don’t ever be sorry.”
he doesn’t mean to sound as harsh as he does. but his words are final. he didn’t ever want to hear you apologize for something that isn’t your fault. for triggering something the both of you haven’t even gotten to discuss since his release.
you scoot closer before he can retreat, guiding him back down onto the bed with a feather soft touch. toji obliges, arm comes around you to pull you against his chest carefully.
“i’ve got you.” you murmur, voice steady despite the tremor still in your hands. “i’m right here.”
you could talk about this all in the morning. maybe reach out to his doctor. right now, what you both needed was sleep.
toji sighs, trying to let go of the tension is his body. you don’t know how much time passes before he finally speaks.
“i don’t wanna be like this forever.”
he says it more for himself than anything. there are so many things that combination of words could mean. so many demons he could be referring to that you’re not even sure you want him to clarify. you don’t want him to relive any of it more than he already has.
you let the admission settle over the both of you before pulling him closer. then comes a soft kiss to his hairline.
“you won’t be. i love you.”
haven’t written for this trope in a while so this taglist may not be up to date ! if you’d like to be added/removed feel free to dm me ^-^ 🏷️:
He looks up from his phone and smirks. “What kind of video?”
“A regular one,” you clarify, though you’re not at all surprised by Sukuna’s initial reaction, he’s a fucking pervert. “C’mon get up, I was asked to review these protein bars.”
“Who would ask you to do that?” he snorts.
“Get up,” you snap at him.
He knows that tone all too well and immediately listens, getting up and standing right next to you, facing your phone with a scowl on his face.
“What do you want me to say?” he grumbles.
“Nothing, just stand there and act normal.”
“Kay,” he stubbornly says.
Acting normal to him was averting his eyes from the camera, going as far as grabbing the bottle of water on the counter and taking a sip from it.
“Hey everyone! I’m here with Sukuna, my first husb—”
You don’t even get a chance to finish the sentence before you’re interrupted by a grown man choking on water of all things.
“Can you like, stop dying right now?” you grimace at him. “I’m trying to take a video.”
“Uhh— no?!” he scoffs in disbelief. “No I won’t fuckin’ stop. I bet you’d like that huh?”
“Like what?” you ask, pretending to be confused as you watch his eye slightly twitch.
“If I died,” he slightly crouches down and points to himself, not hiding how wounded he is at the moment. “That way you’d be free to find your second husband.”
“What? No—”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really,” you begin to laugh and reach for him.
“Fuck off me, women,” he pouts and rubs the spot on his arm that you touched. “First fuckin’ husband my ass.”
“Babe, it was a prank!”
“Better be,” he barks back, “and if we’re not married, that just means I’m dead and you better believe I’m haunting the fuck out of you and that second husband of yours.”
You continue to laugh, “there is no second husband!”
“Yet!”
“So sensitive,” you mutter, forcing him to hug you, but he doesn’t wrap his arms around you and continues to glare at you. “Kuna, it was a joke, I’m not leaving you!”
“I don’t believe you,” he stubbornly says.
“Babe, I'm sorry.”
“No you’re not!” he argues. “Sorry people don’t laugh.”
“What’s it gonna take for you to believe me then??”
King Sukuna may be promised to marry the most perfect match - a princess from another country - but how can he think of that when his thick, veiny cock is buried inside his cute little servant?
The way you clench him as he pounds you into his elegant bed, the skin smacking and squelching wetness echoing in his chambers. He's pussy drunk every time he sinks into you, every glide of his length in the gummy walls of your cute little cunt.
How you pull away just a bit when he hits that puffy cervix, earning his chuckle. He's laying prone over you, long fingers entwine with yours. "Ah ah, don't run away from it, brat, can't you take me? Thought you wanted me to break you, fuck you dumb?"
Of course you did - how could you not want to forget the fact that soon you couldn't be with your King? That you wouldn't have his heavy weight over you, his fingers wrapping your throat, the impossibly huge cock breaking you in half? How could you not want the one or two little kisses he bestows, as he lays prone on you, brushing aside your hair?
Some would say he did it almost sweetly, reverently kissing the back of your neck for just a moment before moaning, reaching around to slip a hand over your stomach, trailing to your neglected clit.
A king's hands shouldn't be so rough - but this was Ryomen Sukuna.
"You're gonna miss me, huh? Hah - you're such a desperate, needy slut, my slut. All mine. Mine, huh?" He acts in control, like every stroke of his cock in your quivering, slick hole wasn't ruining him. "Say it."
"M'not yours though," he slams harder, your head falls back against his tattooed chest. "Not after the ceremony. Not... nghh!"
He rolls the rough pad of his fingertips on your clit which twitches against him, cunt drooling, his other hand wrapping your delicate neck - just one squeeze and the King could surely snap it. You're so full of him you gasp, losing oxygen as he takes you over.
"No one will fuck you like this, not that butler, not the stable boy, not anyone. No one will fill your needy cunt like your king," he's desperate to forget, fucking you harder now, choking you with his red lips against your ear. "Mine, fuck you're all mine."
You wish you were
You wish you didn't love King Sukuna wrecking your cunt like he does, wish one order of - 'come' - wouldn't ruin you the way it does. Wish his little pet name of princess would be true - but how could it be?
You're just a maid after all.
"Come now, fuck lemme feel it one more time,"
There are times when Sukuna let's go, needy and desperate, a whimper that will escape even while almost all seven feet of this man is taking you over. He's hard to take, the way you black out and it's only him, how you shatter and milk his cock, the pleasure rushing through your body.
"That's it, fuck, perfect cunt... my princess milks me like that?"
He shouldn't say that - even mid stroke and screaming out under the heavy, muscled body you could almost believe it. A fairy tale where you're really his.
Sukuna makes sure you come twice, he's never not let you, rolling familiar patterns on your clit as he fucks you deeper into that soft matress in his bed chambers. His pink locks brush your skin, ruby eyes shut as he holds everything back.
He pulls out of your messy hole, dripping down on his dark purple sheets, arching your ass up that's marked with raised hand prints. He murmurs your name as he jerks his thick, veiny cock, that reddened tip just pouring cum in pretty patterns across your back.
Sukuna exhales, pleasure washing over him with his release. Then reality hits.
Not being able to stuff you full of heirs and knowing he cannot is a cruel fucking joke.
Tonight he's sweeter than usual, cleaning you up carefully with a wet washcloth, he's quiet when he dresses you up - wishing you were wearing a beautiful gown and not a simple black maid dress. When you lean up to kiss him on your tip toes, he drags you close, giving you a rare kiss that you so desperately need, swallowing nervously when you back away.
"I will be leaving soon, I cannot take seeing..." You trail off, his jaw sets, eyes widening, the ruby depths glinting as you drop his hand, turning. "Farewell my king."
He says your name and you almost stay - looking at the man you love sadly, kmowing you were lucky to have had any of it. "Don't... you can't just... I order you-"
"Your majesty," you turn and curtsey, he laughs without humor, hands clenched into fists, as tears streak down your pretty face. "It was an honor to have served you, truly. I shall not forget you, my King."
You walk out.
How can Sukuna let you go, let you leave!? He can't.
Sukuna destroys everything in his room as you choke on your sobs. You fall asleep eventually in your tiny little bed in the servant's quarters, him on the floor, after he'd broken everything in his damn room. All you can hope is you get out of this palace before you have to see it - the love of your life marrying a beautiful princess from a far off land, while you clean their floors.
****
Future story ideas of mine - sry for the angst i'm in a mood 😭😅
𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵? | LADS + when you answer the door in a towel
warnings: suggestive implications, possessiveness, slight kink related behaviours(?) (sylus and caleb), nosebleed via door (xavier), based HEAVILY on the house update I have been spending all my lads time on that, I am finally done with exams!! oh my god!! will resume writing regularly soon hopefully!!
You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.
pairings - Boxer! Sukuna x Reader x Nepo baby! Gojo
warnings!!! - Heavy angst, cheating, Satoru is cruel and mean, reader starts off very shy/insecure, yandere Sukuna. This chap - oh boy please read the warnings because there is abuse In this chapter (reader's parents) physical and mental, emotions like a mf, jealous Gojo, insane obsessed ass Sukuna, p in v sex, loss of virginity, breed kink, concerning levels of obsession, cream pie, multi rounds, possessive Sukuna
This WILL have multiple endings (I get asked this so often ugh lol) a Sukuna, Gojo and a Poly. All three are gonna be messy. Told from Reader, Gojo and Kuna's POV and split up by each!- WC - 11.2k god lol
<<<part three - masterlist - part five
part four
Satoru
Does Satoru Gojo really know his wife at all?
He wonders that as the two of you walk hand in hand – a pretense to get your clearly irritated parents to leave you alone. You’re stiff next to him, and he can still remember that kiss last night, remember the way his heart almost pounded out of his fucking chest, the desire to lift you and fuck you right against any and every surface, in every room.
The way he wanted to bury himself to the hilt in a woman he so easily could have, who now doesn’t want a fucking thing to do with him. When he kissed you there was this brief moment where he thought you wanted him back, this sigh he drank up, your hands gripping his shirt for just a moment, lips parting.
Then you pulled back, furious, running off and leaving him all alone – and fuck he was alone. Jennifer was a body, Chloe was a body, he felt nothing for either of them, just distractions, helping him cum so he doesn’t desperately jerk his cock to you every day, even though it didn’t completely stop him.
Your scent always in his fucking senses, your teary eyes he imagines being that way from overstimulation instead. Never has he wanted to just bury his face in between someone’s thighs like he does you – so desperate he’d do damn near anything to taste you, to see more of that body.
What if he did that, what then? Trap you in a marriage forever when you didn’t want this either. You thought you did, but he knows it’s just what’s programmed.
The moment you’re in your parents mansion though? All that feistiness you had started was gone – suddenly you’re utterly docile, head lowered, hands clasped together as they start to rip you to shreds verbally. Small little jabs at first that start spreading, and yet you say nothing back. No slap like you do him, no nasty words in response.
This is who he met – this girl. But was it you?
“You finally look presentable,” your father says, downing that glass of wine in one gulp. “At least you did something right for once.”
“I’m sorry father…” Is all you say, Satoru watches in a mix of horror and curiosity, trying to deviate the topic.
“So, how is business?” Satoru asks, hoping they’d back off somewhat, but every few moments they pick you apart all over again.
“So, who’s going to talk about that Sukuna heir?” Your mom suddenly says, you blush furiously, looking at your untouched plate. Satoru’s fists clench at his sides, the mere mention of Sukuna makes him sick.
“I um… just like to box…”
“You’re not allowed,” she says, scowling at you over her glass. “No daughter of ours is hanging out with Sukuna.”
“He’s very nice though –”
“No,” your father cuts in now. “Look what they’re saying, already suggesting that you’re together with him? A picture of his hand on your back? Did we raise you to be a common whore?”
“Okay,” Satoru cuts in now, clearing his throat. “Let’s all just talk it out, she’ll surely watch being seen–”
“You’re a disappointment, after years of polishing,” your mom says again, cutting Satoru off. “All you have to do is be a subservient wife, why are you failing? Do you know how important being a Gojo is?”
Tears slip from your cheeks, gripping your dress tightly. “Can I please be excused for the night?”
“No,” your dad’s words are sharp. “You can continue this privately so you don’t further embarrass your husband though.”
“She’s not embarrassing me,” he cuts in, you look at him with wide eyes, shock written on your pretty, forlorn features. Of course you’re shocked – he has been nothing but cruel to you on purpose. Seeing your shock from the smallest bit of his defense makes him feel…
Like a piece of shit human.
Isn’t that what he’s been? Cruel like your parents? He thought it all for your own good – who would want to be with him, he was saving a girl like you, giving you the chance to do your own things. Yet now he lives to already regret it, knowing marks on your neck are hidden, and underneath were hickies, bites from a man he can’t stand.
If they were right about anything, it was ending up with a man like Sukuna – fucking unhinged, in and out of jail for just fighting everyone who pissed him off while in college. Sukuna was notorious for being a dick, for not giving a single fuck about anybody or anything.
Satoru’s unsure what game Sukuna is playing with you that you see anything different.
“Just allow us a moment with her,” your mom stands and he watches you tense up, eyes in horror as you look at the woman in the elegant dress, smiling so sweetly, eyes cold. “We will just have a chat then we can get dessert.”
“We’ll have drinks,” your dad pats his back, smiling at Satoru all friendly. “We’ll not make it too long.”
“I think we are leaving soon,” Satoru says, standing now, feeling apprehensive with the way they each take one of your arms in theirs, like they’re having a fun little pow wow with you. “Right, sweetheart?”
“Um yeah, we have… a movie to see…” You mumble faintly, but they’re already tugging at you.
“We’ll be fast, don’t worry!” Satoru can’t erase the look on your face from his head after that night.
*****
You
It’s quick that their demeanor drops – their fake kindness and saccharine words out of the window, throwing you down on the floor the moment the heavy wood clicks shut – and you know you’re all alone. Satoru surprised you somewhat being kind, but there was no escaping this.
Flashbacks race through your mind as you shrink into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, tears steadily falling down your cheeks as they stand over you. It’s a conditioned response you’ve had since childhood – shrink down to take up less space, make yourself harder to hit. It’s the girl they raised, the one who submits, who says sorry for every little mistake.
The girl who is never going to be perfect enough, who tries so hard.
Tired.
You’re tired.
"We raised you better than to let rumors fly about you and Ryomen Sukuna,” your father says, words cutting you. Perhaps his cruelty was worse than hers – something about your dad hurting you felt more painful. “Look me in the eyes and show respect.”
“You have me on the floor,” you whisper then, staring at him, his lips pressed in a cruel, terse line. “And speak on having respect?”
“We’re your parents, we did everything for you, have you wanted for anything!?” Your mom’s voice raises ever so slightly, as if she realizes that she lowers it, coming to kneel in front of you. "A common criminal? Are you trying to destroy the alliance we built?”
“Sukuna has his own business,” they laugh at that. “I am an adult, and I can have the friends I want.”
“Some friend, lying to my face,” she grips your hair so hard it pricks you with pain, tugging your hair at the roots. “I raised you not to lie.”
“I’m not–”
“Satoru is the most powerful man in the country, and you’re out whoring around with a jailbird?" Your father’s words burn more than the hair pulling, you look up at his angry face, a mask of feigned disinterest gone. “You’re making our family look bad because you can’t keep your legs closed.”
“I haven’t opened them – ah!” She tugs again, popping you on the mouth and making you wince at the sting.
“Keep it down, since you seem to have even Satoru Gojo falling for your pathetic little tricks.”
“Don’t hurt me,” you whisper, tugging at her wrists, brows lowering. “Get off of me.”
“I’ll do much worse if you don’t go and beg your husband’s forgiveness.” She lets go of you then stands, you get to your knees, just for your father to shove you back down.
Sukuna’s voice rings in your ears – defend yourself, do something, anything. Tell them to get fucked.
Why can’t you do it?
You disappoint your parents, Satoru and now Sukuna. You are an utter disappointment, the realization of disappointing him however hits the hardest, the way he seemed to believe in you when you don’t find yourself truly worthy of it. You take a shaky breath and stand up, hands shaking at your sides.
Could you stand up to them? Satoru was one thing – his cruelty was new, they had done it since you can remember. A trembling fear fills your body as you swallow down spit that threatens to turn into bile, acid already burning your throat, your heart is thudding even faster with every moment as they look at you with cold eyes.
“You both have no right to tell me what to do, especially when he does anything he wants.”
“He’s allowed to,” your father cuts you off once more, stepping closer, and you can’t stop shrinking back. His hits are rare but they always hurt the most. “He’s your husband, he’s a Gojo, you learn your place.”
“My place,” you laugh then, without humor, shaking your head and swiping at your eyes. “What do you mean ‘my place’. I tried with him, do you not realize it’s him who doesn’t want it?”
“Then become more desirable,” your mom cooes those words, touching your chin, making you jerk back.
“If you were fulfilling your duties he wouldn’t be as prone to be with other women, that fault lies on you. Now tell me what exactly you’re doing, running around like a slut and giving us a bad name.”
"Answer him," your mother says, sneering at you as you stay silent, your jaw clenched together so hard it hurts. It clicks when you finally loosen it, sucking a slow breath through your lips.
"I wasn't... we're just friends." Your voice trembles, barely a whisper.
"Friends? You don’t get to have friends." You shake your head once more, your mom grips your wrist tightly. The fear of the past when she’d beat you and lock you away all spill over the edge again.
Tell them to fuck off.
How, Sukuna? How can I?
"If you ever embarrass us in front of the Gojo clan again, I swear to god you’ll live to regret it.” Your mother is talking, pulling you out of that dreamy fog, the one where you think you could be happy for precious few moments. “You will fix this, will you not?”
You don’t answer fast enough.
"Answer your mother," your dad is looming over you, as you don’t speak, too hurt, too frightened, trying to fight that little girl that wants to cower in a corner, to think of something to say. To be strong.
Are you strong?
You look up, tears still swimming in your eyes, feeling the defeat crushing and overwhelming, suffocating you. "I just don’t understand-"
Crack.
The backhand comes out of nowhere, stunning you completely, heavy and brutal against your skin. His huge gold ring catches your cheekbone, and the force of it snaps your head to the side so quickly you’re dizzy. Tasting copper flooding your mouth with the warmth of the blossoming blood, your lip splitting open against your teeth.
You barely get a moment to process what’s happened when he hits you again, this time harder, and you cry out, falling right back down to your hands and knees you’re so dizzy from the sudden pain. Your blood pressure rises through the roof, the room spinning violently with the sudden pain, a loud thud hitting when you collide with the ground.
All you see are his polished dress shoes and her Monolo Blahniks.
That’s all you would see when they forced you to kneel for hours after getting a B instead of an A. All you would see when they’d tell you to show your respect, all the memories of that scared little girl forming with the woman trying her best to gain any sense of confidence, happiness, identity.
Just that girl all over again.
"Don't you dare talk back," he snaps as he looks down at you, shaking his hand out as if hitting you hurt him more than it did you. "Ungrateful little bitch. We gave you everything, and you act like a cheap slut in the papers."
What hurts worse, their words, or the hit?
"Get up," your mother says, her voice cold, staring at your bleeding lip with mild annoyance rather than concern. "Fix your face.
How can you stand? How can you do anything when this is your life? You feel tears mixing with the blood on your lips.
“Crying, all the fucking time, can’t ever-”
“The fuck is going on?” The door swings open.
Great, here comes your other bully, to humiliate you, to relish in the pathetic girl who can’t stand up for shit, right?
Satoru’s blue eyes widen when he sees you, and for the first time since you’ve known your ‘husband’ his face is… softer. It’s forlorn, the way his mouth drops open, before he shuts it and scowls at your parents, who immediately act innocent, your dad holds up a hand that has droplets of your blood on it.
“What the fuck?”
“Satoru we were helping you-”
“Helping me by hitting your daughter?” He rushes over to you, you don’t even look at him at first, until he tenderly touches your cheek, exhaling. “Hey.”
You look up, bursting into more tears when you see his expression, seeing the boy you met years ago buried inside whoever this guy was. The little glimpse that had you thinking he’d be your prince and sweep you away from this life – only to cause you more pain than your parents ever could.
Trapped between the three people who hurt you, crying.
Why can’t you do more, be more, say more?
“Say something to me, tell me to fuck off,” he whispers, assessing you to clearly check if you’re all right.
“Fuck off.” You whisper, he smirks sadly, helping you up gently, before stomping over to your father.
“You hit girls? That’s what you like to do?” He shoves him now, pressing your dad against the wall.
“You should discipline her so we don’t have to,” Satoru laughs at that, shaking his head, fist clenching at his side. “We are merely trying to teach her manners.”
“You both will be ruined forever if you touch her again.”
“But-”
“No,” he turns and shuts your mom up now, his eyes furious. “You don’t get to speak. I’ll make sure your entire family is run into the fucking ground, have you all filing bankruptcy when I expose all the shady shit you do.”
They’re suddenly quiet.
You clutch your dress, eyes taking in something that must be some fever dream – why would Gojo care if you got hit? He doesn’t care you exist. Confusion mixes with the relief and gratitude, and a deeper pain – the memory of your longing, the way you craved Satoru, the way you thought yourself in love with him.
It hurts deeper, him.
“Let’s go,” he says then, letting your dad stumble out of his hold, taking your hand in his. “She’s not yours to beat.”
“Gojo come talk-”
He stomps out of the house now, shaky breaths puffing condensation in the air of the night sky, when you pull your hand out. He looks down at you for just a moment – a painfully long moment that steals your breath away.
“Th-thanks…” You whisper, he sighs.
“Thanking me? For what?”
“For… I…” You turn then, picking up your dress, gaining as much distance as you can from him, from this house – suffocating you.
“What the fuck, come back,” you rush off, it’s so dark and you can’t see shit, but you can’t be here.
Gojo can’t comfort you.
What a joke, really, even if you’re thankful, it’s just ludicrous to take comfort in the arms of a man who helped make it worse, even as his blue eyes are filled with concern, and his hands are warm on your shoulders. It scares you then, the way he looks at you, like he could ever understand.
“Just, let me…” he brushes your cheek, you wince a bit at it, he swallows – adam’s apple bobbing. “He hit you.”
“Yeah well, he’s done it before,” you mumble, looking down, avoiding his gaze. “Just not in a while.”
“You never told me…”
“Have you ever tried to find anything out about me?” Your words land, his hand falls then, your cheek is stinging, on fire, burning from your dad’s ring splitting your skin open. “Even if it was some act or something, thanks for stopping him.”
“It was just… fucked up,” he shakes his head, jaw setting then. “My dad hit me too, but you’re just… a girl. And…” He trails off, leaving the two of you standing there in the night, in the darkness, you barely hold yourself together, hugging your own body, feeling his gaze drift.
“You shouldn’t have been hit either,” you say softly, sighing and shutting your eyes. “I may hate you but you don’t deserve it any more than I do.”
He says nothing, it’s almost pitch black aside from the stars illuminating the sky and the distant porch lights of your parents mansion, a cold place you thought once Gojo would save you from. Idiotic, idealistic thoughts that somewhat came to fruition in a sense.
In another sense, you got punished because of him.
The silence hangs heavy between you both, his eyes looking right through you, yours avoiding him, tears falling down your cheeks.
You miss Sukuna.
Sukuna would have probably punched your damn dad in the face though, fuck he may have smacked your mom too, and that would have been a debacle. Gojo handled it well and got you out of there without further word – but it all made you realize just how terrible it’ll be when you both do divorce.
You’ll always be a failure.
“If I knew I…”
“What, wouldn’t have been evil? I doubt it,” you swipe your tears now, shaking your head. “Did you think my parents were good people?”
“I didn’t know they hit their grown daughter in the fucking face, that your dad would call you that shit…” He turns a bit, disgusted. “God what he said to you, and you took it.”
“It’s true, I did fail,” Satoru’s lips part, then close. “I failed at being good enough for Satoru Gojo, the only job I ever had to do. And I failed it, utterly, completely. He’s not wrong.”
“He is wrong.”
“He’s not, I did, and I am a ‘whore’ like he said. I am with another man, and I couldn’t keep you interested. God I don’t think you even looked at me until I came home with marks, then only out of spite,” Satoru grabs your shoulders then.
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“Fucking just do it,” you do, and his tears are in his eyes, making you gasp out in shock. “I am sorry that I caused him to hit you. I’m so, so fucking sorry I caused them to hit you.”
“You didn’t–”
“Yes I fucking did,” you shake your head.
“They’d do it anyway for something, okay?”
“Has it ever been that bad?” You swallow nervously, eyes closing, tears falling and dripping down your chin. “Answer me.”
“No, never that bad, he’s never hit me that hard in the face,” you touch it gingerly. “Usually he kept it in places no one saw.”
“What?”
“We’re more alike than we thought,” you admit, sad for the boy Gojo was then. “Is that why you became so cruel?”
He says nothing.
“It’s how we were raised, who we become to an extent, but Satoru I didn’t choose cruelty, you did,” you turn away then, looking out in the distance a bit, wind whipping your hair around. “You didn’t have to be that cruel to me, just because they hurt you. You chose that.”
You go to walk and he tugs you against him, your back against his chest, arms wrapping your body, tears hot on your neck. “I’m sorry, fuck I am sorry they hurt you like that.”
“Please, don’t,” you pull off, turning to look up at him, barely able to keep his tears in, and your own won’t stop. “You don’t get to comfort me, not after what you’ve done.”
“Then who will right now?” He gently cups your face, swiping the stinging tears. “Let me do one right fucking thing for you, before you never have to see me again.”
“You did, you took me out of there,” you take a breath, shaking, lips trembling so hard you bite them to stop. “I do thank you for that, Satoru.”
Fuck.
You’ve never said that – his name. It feels odd on your lips.
“Sorry I know you told me never to call you that.” You whisper, lips trembling, wishing you could get yourself together, even as your cheek burns and your stomach feels so twisted in knots. You watch his jaw clench, the stars and moon bright and as silvery as that hair that’s usually perfect falling over a brow.
“Thanking me when I caused it?” He laughs without humor, studying you ever so carefully. “Don’t thank me. He’d have not hit your face if I didn’t do what I did.”
“I don’t know the answer to that, but what’s it matter? It’ll all be done soon, and you can go live your life, I’ll live mine.” You grip his wrists now. “But don’t act like you care suddenly, don’t play that game. That’s an even crueler one.”
He leans down too low then, kissing your cheek, both of you sobbing as you stand there together. “You’re just a girl, and you were just a kid, okay? Don’t deserve that shit.”
“I didn’t deserve you being cruel either,” he sniffles as he tries to hold back his own upset, and your eyes are swimming, barely able to see. “I don’t deserve any of this. I’ve done nothing but try, God I tried so hard just to make you like me. Even when I watched you fucking her, I still tried, I did. I wanted to be good, to not fail everyone.”
“You didn’t fail shit,” is all he says, and he holds you, letting you sob, even as you smack at his chest. “Just let me hold you for a minute, fuck… you need it.”
“Not you, not you,” you whisper, trembling, sobbing so much you’re limp, until you do snuggle to him, sighing sadly, feeling him trying, that comfort.
The longing.
The yearning for the Gojo you thought was your prince, rescuing you from a tower. Yet Gojo is damaged just like you, just like Sukuna, but he clearly couldn't handle it.
You had become the perfect, subservient girl. Sukuna apparently had a rough patch and left it all. Satoru let his vengeance and hatred for it all change him.
You're sad for that boy, but the man that's been so fucking cruel? You're still scared.
“It doesn’t change anything, but I do thank you… for stopping it.”
“Yeah,” he has no words now, he just picks you up suddenly in his arms, ignoring your protests, cradling you too delicately, like a man would on his wedding night.
Never yours though.
“Don’t carry me, I can walk.”
“Just let me.” You’re too tired to argue, when he sets you in the limo, and he keeps holding you.
You’re too exhausted and weak to stop him from putting an ice pack on your cheek once you're home, from cleaning the cut carefully. You both say nothing for a while, an odd silence falling over two people that hate each other – two people who lived the same lives, and ended up so different.
One, too cruel. One, too kind.
One, too strong. One, too weak.
Yet here you both were – mirror images of the same life, the same abusive streak, quietly not hating each other for a few moments. When he takes you to bed, he still hasn’t said a word, and you should let him go to bed, not try to reach out, to know better than forgive what he’s done.
You don’t forgive it, but for a moment you get him just a bit, and maybe Satoru gets you.
“Satoru,” he turns, looking to you with sad blue eyes, as you fiddle a bit with the big sweater he through on you. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me for shit.” His words are harsh, the pain in them prevalent, the two of you quiet.
“I will, because you didn’t have to interfere,” your eyes meet his, and your heart breaks for who he could be – a man righting wrongs, maybe with a heart in there.
Are you foolish? Do you just want to see good in someone, or do you see those parts of yourself buried within him.
“I wish I could know the Satoru Gojo that stood up for me tonight, but I won’t get to. So I just hope you show that to the next girl, the one who has your heart. Don’t hide it with whatever narcissistic bullshit you did with me.”
He says nothing again, sighing, fingers tapping at the sides on his thighs. “You’re too nice,” he says, gripping your door handle tightly, not looking at you. “I'll make sure they never hit you again. Even after we separate.”
You blink a bit. “You can't promise that.”
“I'll ruin their reputations and make sure they never do that shit again, that's what they care about anyway.” You just look down at your lap, at the ribbons and lace on the edge of the sweater. “Think I don't wanna take them down with my own family?”
“Well I guess I wish you some luck in that,” you admit, laying down, feeling his gaze on you. “It was nice having a night where you weren't…”
“Fucking terrible?”
“Yeah,” you yawn a bit, eyes suddenly heavy. “You didn't deserve it either. Being a boy doesn't make you somehow tougher.”
Satoru's footsteps fade, the door shuts, leaving you alone, when your phone rings.
Sukuna.
You barely are able to answer it then without sobbing all over.
“Sukuna?”
“I felt something went wrong, you never wrote to me, I sound like a simpy little bitch. And… are you… what happened!?”
“I'll tell you when I see you okay?” You swallow nervously, gingerly touching your own cheek with cool fingers. “But let’s just say it was a bad night.”
There’s a long pause. “Did he fucking do something?”
“He was oddly kind, it was my… dad…”
It's quiet then, you suck in a breath, eyes shut, waiting for him to speak.
“I'm coming the fuck over.” You blink.
“You can't! You're out of town and I'm okay.”
His sigh hurts your heart and soul, longing for a person you don’t know well yet filling you. You want him to hold you, kiss you, tell you the world is just gone and it’s you two. “Then you're coming over tomorrow.”
“I think I can do that… we just have to be careful.” Your voice is ever so soft, barely over a whisper through the phone.
“Maybe I just want to hold you, think of that?”
“Yeah? Just hold me?” You yawn then, eyes fluttering shut. “Won’t you kiss me too?”
“You're sleepy,” you nod, knowing he can't see, snuggling up. “Then just… fucking keep me on until you crash. Will you just do that?”
“Mhm,” you fade, listening to him, your body hurting, your heart torn, tummy still aching with the nausea from what happened. “Night Kuna.”
You think he says it back.
The dreams are haunting, Sukuna tugging you against him, Satoru on his knees crying. And for once you don't hate Satoru, you feel bad for the boy he is, his head in your lap, Sukuna's buried against your neck.
It's blissful.
Then they tug.
Tug, tug, tug at you, Satoru dragging you down, Sukuna pulling you up.
Can you not break apart?
*****
Sukuna
It takes almost nothing to find your home.
First off, Satoru was basically public knowledge – second off, the ostentatious mansion was utterly ridiculous. His fists bang on the door rather than pressing the little ring system, he’d rushed to get home as soon as he heard your voice last night. It had him sick to his stomach just wondering what the fuck Gojo was doing – but to know your fuck ass parents were near you too?
It’s more and more tempting to kidnap you, steal you away from him and everyone, hide you from whoever the fuck thought they had some claim on you. Especially toxic ideas swim in his mind, keeping you where no one would find you, making sure you’re nice and occupied.
Sukuna never even thought of kids until he pictured how pretty you’d be knocked up with his babies, give you so many you can make your own little family and forget what the fuck you know. His fist bangs on the door once more, finally getting opened up by a butler raising a brow.
Of course Satoru would have a butler.
Sukuna was almost as rich, but he can’t even imagine that shit, though it sort of fits with ‘pretty boy satoru’ as they all used to call him. He enjoyed the finer things a little too much for someone trying to fight so hard not to do what his parents said. It’s not even the fact that he doesn’t wanna be with you, that’s to Sukuna’s benefit – it’s the way he’s dragging you down.
If he wanted to, he could just let you go.
Sukuna knows he’s obsessed, psychotic for a girl he barely knows, but even now all he can think of is decking Satoru in the face, throwing you over his shoulder and making you live with him instead. He knows what he likes and he knows it’s you, since the moment he saw you in the door of his gym.
“Where’s your Nepo baby boss?” Sukuna asks, smirking all mean when Satoru stomps over, glaring. “Hey best buddy.”
“The fuck are you doing here?” He demands, Sukuna side steps the butler, grinning right at him, just an inch taller than Gojo, but it was enough to make him happy.
“Checking in on our girl,” Satoru scoffs, gripping Sukuna’s wrist when he goes to pat his cheek. “Ours for now, that is. Hope you’ve got your lawyers on it, yeah? Or that all talk?”
“You have no right to be in my fucking house, or talking to my wife.”
“Your wife?” Sukuna laughs now, smacking his thigh, when a girl walks right up to the porch behind him. He looks at her curiously, Satoru sighs.
“What are you doing here, Jennifer? I said not today.”
“But Satoru,” she runs up to him now, Sukuna snorts as he sees her hugging on Satoru, a slutty mess with a dumb fucking secretary costume. Surely she can’t be actually wearing that shit to work? “I missed you!”
“Not now,” he says tersely, shoving her wrists off him. Sukuna's red eyes narrow, lips curved up in a smirk.
“This is your mistress, right?”
“Sukuna get the fuck out,” Satoru steps past the pouty girl. “Seriously.”
“Over her,” his words smack Satoru clearly, he watches his blue eyes lower just a bit. “You’re fuckin’ serious? Over her?”
“You don’t know shit,” he opens his mouth just as you walk out, and when Sukuna sees your face, his heart fucking pounds, anger swelling up at the sight of bruising on your cheek, darkness under an eye. Satoru looks right at you too, as you pause, taking the three of them in, before landing on him.
“Sukuna?” Your words are soft, fiddling with your hands just a bit in front of yourself, blinking glassy eyes. “You’re here?”
He ignores whatever protest Satoru was saying, ignores that average ass secretary that’s almost laughable as a preference over you, all he sees is your bruised face. He cups it gently, glaring across your features, your little hands grip his wrists, shaky and trembling, tears slipping on your cheek.
“The fuck did they do?” He demands, teeth clenched now. “What’s their goddamn address?”
“You can’t! Sukuna…”
“What’s their address? I just wanna talk,” you sigh, shaking your head, earning his glare. “I’m serious. I’ll look it up.”
“You can’t make things worse, please,” you’re already shaking even more, your breaths coming quicker and quicker. “Please don’t do anything. I know they’re already so mad at me.”
“Can’t be mad if they’re buried.”
“Sukuna!”
He raises his brows. “You’d miss those fucks, really?”
“You need to go,” Satoru says then, stepping between you both, pushing Sukuna back. “I took care of her just fine.”
“Oh did you!? Then why the fuck does she have a black eye?” Sukuna shoves Satoru, who shoves him right back, until the two of them damn near kill each other.
“Please don’t fight,” you murmur softly, They freeze at your quiet words, turning to look at you. The sight of you all bruised, emotional and pleading making them both quiet for just a moment, the tension and hatred radiating in the air. “Gojo did help, I promise.”
“Doesn’t change shit about him,” Sukuna shoves Satoru one last time, sending him stumbling into the counter with a clatter of dishes, Jennifer is panicking, annoying as fuck in Sukuna’s ear. “Don’t you deserve your face rearranged?”
“You’ll make it worse for her, you don’t understand them.”
“Don’t I?” Satoru runs a hand through his hair, looking at you.
That’s when Sukuna sees it.
In no world does Satoru not want you – written all over his dumb fucking face. For you not to know clearly just showed how deep your insecurities ran, because there’s no denying the love struck, down bad, wanna be pussy drunk off you – expression Satoru Gojo wears. Sukuna knew it was bullshit anyway, but to actively see proof of his longing makes him furious.
He gets it, he barely knows you but to think of another man’s hands on your pretty body, especially this arrogant, cocky little shit? It makes him nauseous. Furious. Sick.
“I will handle them, not like it’s any of your business,” Satoru says, his focus still locked on you, but your own gaze had shifted, landing on the woman now framed in the kitchen doorway.
“Couldn’t last a day without her?” You ask, your voice suddenly cold, just the sound of the strength in it makes Sukuna ache – even as Satoru tenses up from it. “Even right now? After everything I went through I have to see that?”
“I didn’t ask her –”
“Baby what happened to your face?” She runs up, gasping and cupping her face. “Mrs. Gojo, are you okay?”
Sukuna contemplates hitting a woman, he wouldn’t feel bad but he’d definitely do jail time – jail time meant less of you.
“Come home with me for the night,” you blush furiously, head down now, biting on your lip. “You don’t need to see them tonight.”
“Jennifer isn’t staying –”
“But SATORU I just really need you!” She’s clinging to him again, Sukuna would almost feel sorry if it wasn’t perfect, for him to have a dumb psycho clinger who’s half as attractive as his own wife.
A wife Sukuna plans on taking.
Giving you his name so he never has to hear ‘Mrs. Gojo’ again.
Psychotic thoughts, but there they are, swirling in his mind, images flitting of fucking you on the way to your honeymoon, taking you against a wall at the reception. No way he doesn’t just constantly fuck your pretty cunt once he finally gets a chance.
“You’re not going with him,” Satoru takes your wrist now, Sukuna flings it off, glaring at the blue eyed freak. “Sukuna get the fuck out.”
“How can you tell me not to?” You ask then, raising a brow. “With all you do, what right do you have?”
“You don’t know him,” he leans low, words quiet, Sukuna watches you step back, losing that nerve he’s worked hard for you to build up. “You don’t know shit about Sukuna. You can’t go with him.”
“I will,” you murmur then, looking back up to meet his eyes. Sukuna smiles, pride filling his eyes as he watches your fists clench. “I’ll be careful so I don’t… piss them off more.”
“Careful? They’re all the fuck over this place,” he shakes his head now.
“I’ll get her out without being seen,” Satoru scowls over at him, his hands on your shoulders, The sight made Sukuna want to rip those arms the fuck off and beat him with them. “I’ll take good care of her, better than you have. What kind of man sees this happen and just what… gives them a good talking to?”
“You think I didn’t wanna beat him?”
“Him,” Sukuna frowns, then looks at you, realization dawning all over his face. “Your dad did that shit?”
“Yes, um,” you take Sukuna’s hand now, so small compared to one of his massive ones it swallows it. “I’m going with him for tonight Okay?”
Satoru says nothing.
“Not okay I mean… I am. I am going. I appreciate last night, but that doesn’t mean we’re suddenly good, and it certainly doesn’t mean I’m going to have you locking me up and making me listen to you two fuck all night.”
Sukuna snorts.
Jennifer gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in feigned horror. “Satoru, you’ll let her talk to you like that?”
“Shut up god,” he grumbles, earning her lips trembling, dramatic crying ensues without a single tear. Sukuna grimaces in disgust.
“Even you could probably do better, fuckboy,” you tug at his hand, shaking your head. “What?”
“Don’t be mean to her,” you murmur, looking down then. “Won’t make anything better.”
“Oh it will, let me just get a couple jokes in and maybe punch-”
“Sukuna,” you cut him off now, stepping closer. His heart breaks at your pretty face beat the fuck up like that, your tears that are always in your pretty eyes.
Do you ever get a fucking break?
“I’ll go with you,” you say softly, looking at Gojo then. “I’m going.”
“Yeah,” he laughs without humor, hands in his pockets, eyeing Sukuna levelly, hatred just radiating. Sukuna grins right back at him, deepening Satoru’s scowl. “Have her back tonight.”
“Nah, the morning though,” you blush even under your bruises, burying your face against his shoulder. “If she wants to come back. If not? I don’t give a fuck what you threaten, I won’t bring her.”
“You really think you know her, that you have some claim on her?” Satoru demands, blue eyes narrowing in on him.
“And what, you do? Don’t you want ‘anyone but her’?”
It’s quiet, Satoru’s mouth shuts, you tense against him, he feels how tightly you’re holding his arm. “You don’t know shit, Sukuna.”
“You’re dumb as shit, Satoru,” he hugs you against him tightly. “Letting her go? Should thank you for being a fucking idiot.”
“She’s still my wife.”
*****
You
“For now, she’ll come back when she wants, not gonna control her any fucking more, any of you. Dumb ass parents, I don’t care. They can come for me, too.” Satoru says nothing, but you feel the weight of his stare, when you look behind your shoulder, and his eyes are devastated.
Was there more to Gojo?
Did you really want to know, anymore? Could you handle that, when he has Jennifer running up to him, the woman he said – wait, let me cum first – and you had to listen to it? You can’t just forgive him – that’s what the old you would do. Give up, forgive, try to please, all the things you did as a daughter.
Not anymore. You turn away, ignoring the burning gaze against your back, breathing the air when Sukuna sneaks you in his car quickly, and tugs you in for a kiss, brutal at first, before you suck in a breath of pain. He pauses, pulling back, his thumb touching your lip carefully.
“Don’t stop,” you whisper. “I want you.”
“Don’t say that shit,” he kisses you again, hungry and mean, hand tugging your body against his chest. “I’ll fuck you right in front of the Gojo mansion, huh? See his dumb, creepy ass blue eyes cry.”
“Insane,” you giggle though, brightening your face, Sukuna’s expression softens at it, swallowing. His adam’s apple bobs up and down when he brushes your hair back. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did, brat wouldn’t tell me what happened, tsk…” You’re met with another kiss, before he pulls back and starts the car. “I want you to let me know who I have to beat to death.”
Sukuna Ryomen was just a little insane. But you’re pretty sure you love that.
“Can I sleep on your shoulder?” You ask softly, he just nods, and you rest your uninjured cheek, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m so exhausted.”
“You can sleep the whole time you’re there.”
“I didn’t uh… bring clothes to stay all night.”
“Then you’ll just have to be naked.”
“Sukuna!” He chuckles, before sighing, an arm tugging you closer, his lips brushing your temple.
“What do you do to me, huh?” You’re too comfortable to respond.
*****
When you come to, you’re being carried into Sukuna’s penthouse, you cling tightly to his neck and yawn, stirring a bit, he curses then when he sees Yuuji, with a bag slung over his shoulder.
“Kid, what are you doing here?”
“Just needed some things I… oh shit…” Sukuna eases you down, Yuuji frowns and runs toward you, sweet brown eyes shimmering with tears. “What happened?”
“A long story,” his fingers hover over your face.
“Let me put this down, I’ll get some ice?”
“No, no, I’m okay,” you take his hand in yours, smiling sadly. “Don’t worry for me, promise it’s fine.”
Yuuji looks over your head at Sukuna, you can all but feel the way they communicate ever so quietly, his fingers wrapping yours now. “If something happens and Sukuna isn’t in town, I will get you.”
“You don’t need to-”
“I will.” He says it more firm now. “Sukuna can give you my number, right? If you ever need me.”
“Yuuji you’re too sweet for this world,” Sukuna is quiet when you kiss Yuuji’s cheek, emotions making your throat close up. “I really appreciate you.”
You’re crying before you can stop it.
Someone caring like this, for you? It’s almost too much, you’re such a wreck Yuuji gives you a little hug, patting your back. “It’s nothing, really. Now don’t hug me too long he’ll get mad at me.”
You manage a shaky smile, when Yuji murmurs to Sukuna, you can’t hear, instead turning and waving to him when he leaves. “I feel so bad, to worry him.”
“The kid just cares,” his voice is gruff now. He reaches out, cupping your uninjured cheek in one of his big hands. His touch impossibly gentle as he strokes the skin there, trying his best not to hurt you. His eyes drop to the angry bruise marring the other side of your face, red eyes darkening as they study you.
“He’s dead,” Sukuna watches your eyelashes tremble, little tears forming droplets on them. “Your dad, I'll fucking kill him. Then beat your dumb fucking husband.”
You suck in a breath. “Sukuna, don’t say that. I'm okay.”
“You're not,” he cuts you off, hands slipping down your shoulders, feeling you shivering, rage fucking filling him. “I am tired of you getting abused and I just met you.”
“Abused…”
“That’s the goddamn term, y’know that right?” You shake your head, earning his sigh. “Aren't you tired of it?”
That question.
Aren't you tired of it?
You nod just a bit, feeling him tug you closer, dragging your body against his, a hand on the small of your back. You feel everything bubbling over the surface, the memories of the cruelty of Satoru, the cruelty of your parents.
“I am tired, fuck I'm tired,” You're barely holding it back, breaths coming faster, hands gripping his shirt. “I'm so tired of it. Of trying to be perfect and failing. All I do is fail.”
“No, they failed,” he tilts your chin up. “Failed fuck ass parents, shitty failed husband. You didn't fail shit.”
“But here I am, with you, I'm not there being perfect. I'm being selfish, wanting you, wanting this. To be consumed by you,” he eases back, lips parted. “This isn't just fun to me and I don't do it lightly. I know the position I'm putting you in and I feel horrible.”
“Don't,” he whispers, voice hoarse, breath dancing along your lips. “No one touches you.”
You lick your lips, drawing his gaze to them. “Sukuna…”
“No one, ever again.” He leans in closer, his face now just an inch from yours, stealing your very breath from your lungs. “Just let me take care of them.”
“Take care of them,” your heart hammers in your chest at the insinuation, your hands slipping slowly up his chest. “I don’t want you having to do that, get involved in this mess that’s my life more than you already are.”
“Too late,” you laugh, breathless then.
“Too late? You’re insane, Ryomen Sukuna. You know that?” You brush your lips on his, tentatively, but it’s over for him once you do, walking you back against the wall, lifting you in his arms like it’s nothing. You exhale into his mouth, letting his huge hands take you over. “Mnh…”
“The sounds you fuckin’ make,” he kisses down your neck, teeth sinking in, earning your gasp in his ear. “Fuck I want to mark every inch of you. Have him see what he fucked up on.”
“He doesn’t –”
“Oh, he does,” he pulls back, smirking at you, his face is dangerous then, a deadly look in his eyes that ruins you. “He wants you so goddamn bad it’s pathetic, I looked right at him today.”
You blink in confusion. “If he does at all, it’s because you want me, not because of anything else.”
“Yeah I wish that were true,” he sighs, kissing you again, careful not to hurt you, the effort making him shake. “It’s written all over his face, but for whatever dumb fucking reason he has, I’m glad he doesn’t touch you. I couldn’t fucking handle it.”
“He kissed me…” Sukuna’s hold tightens, you squeak damn near. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you. It was like… some power play.”
“Then I’ll fuck away the memory of it,” you’re blushing when he carries you to his room, laying you right on his bed, spreading your thighs and sinking his heavy weight over you. “If you don’t tell me to stop right now…”
Your mind is reeling, still so dizzy and conflicted from the past couple of days – was it a toxic part of you that felt bad for Satoru? After all he’d done, and likely what he still was doing, but knowing all he’d been through, some part of you still feels guilty underneath Sukuna.
Another part of you feels so fucking good underneath this man. The way he looks at you – like there’s nothing else, utterly consumed, his kisses igniting your entire body on fire, sucking your breath with the intensity of them. It feels right like this, it feels like you can’t get enough of each other, it’s as if Sukuna just knows you.
No one knows you – even yourself – but he does. He sees you, the tired heiress trying to be perfect and hurting, sees more than what everyone has always perceived you to be. It’s insanity when you’re rolling your hips, feeling his cock pressing right over your clothed cunt, dripping through the thin cotton until it’s sticky, aching and throbbing for more.
“Mmm, stop me,” he says again, leaned up on his hands now, you cup his face, tracing the tattoo running down his neck, watching his pink lashes flutter. “Don’t be all cute and shit, I’ll throw your ass in a mating press.”
“Sukuna what?” You giggle at him, he’s very serious though.
“A full nelson, after your first time,” you’re laughing against his lips, arching up for more of him. “First time should be missionary, yeah?”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, isn’t full nelson… mmm… like a wrestling move?” He chuckles, kissing your nose for just a moment, leaning up to slide a thigh between yours, pressure having your eyes flutter shut.
“You’re too fucking cute, I’ll corrupt you if you don’t stop me,” his voice darkens then, eyes almost black with lust, you suck in a breath as your cunt drools down his well muscled thigh. “I will not feel bad about it, either, fucking your cunt and pumping it so full.”
Your answer is a soft, desperate whine, one of his hands tilting your chin up with two fingers, breath ghosting your lips.
“I’ll burn everything to the ground for you,” his words are insanity – met with his face, furious, possessive eyes that steal your breath.
“Burn everything?” You whisper, lost in his eyes – that red ring around pitch obsidian, his devious, insane fucking grin.
“I’ll kill anyone who ever made you cry. I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you the wrong way, once you’re all mine, think I care if they’re your parents?”
“You c-can’t mean all that,” you shake your head, clutching even tighter. “You don’t hardly know me, what if I… what if I…” You suck in a breath, tears swimming and blurring your vision. “What if I disappoint you?”
“You couldn’t,” his voice is softer, his expression growing serious. “You could not disappoint me.”
“You don’t know it, I feel it’s all I do.”
“That’s them,” Sukuna’s hands slip up your sides, easing your top off over your head carefully, moaning at the sight of your tits bouncing right out. “I’ll fuck any memory of it out, fuck you so hard all you can do is babble, drool. Not think a single thing in your pretty head.”
Fuck.
“You want it?” He asks then, voice a low rumble, his hair falling ever so slightly over his brow, huge frame hovering on top of you. “Do you want me to make it all go away for you?”
“Yes,” your answer is clearly enough for him, he slips off his shirt, showing those tensed muscles, the tattoos curving right with his body. You run your fingers down them, but he grabs your hand.
“Touch yourself,” you blush even now, even half naked with him, as he slips down your pants, tugging them off and leaving you in just your panties, hair splayed out all over the silk pillows that smell like him. “Show me what you learned.”
You slip your fingers over the ruined material of soaked panties, ever so softly pressing up in the fabric, soft whine drank from his lips. The pain from your lip makes you hiss, he pulls off and runs a thumb across the mark.
“I’ll kill them,” he says again – and you believe him. You believe him when he positions himself lower, sucking one of your nipples into his hot, eager mouth, making your back arch. “Should fill you with me, all of me, until you don’t want to leave.”
“Ah!” He’s kissing lower, hands bruising in their grip of your waist, tongue licking a filthy trail down your stomach.
“How can you leave if you can’t walk, huh? Pretty little brat,” he whispers, your hand still running circles when he’s even lower, pressing them more firmly where they need to be. “Good girl.”
"Sukuna, please," you whimper, your fingers leaving your soppy cunt and tangling in his hair, pulling at the pink strands. “Please, I need you.”
With a slow, deliberate tug, he removes the barrier of your panties, the fabric tearing away easily, the cool air hits your wet heat for a split second before his fingers are there, so warm and rough, sliding through your slick folds.
"So fucking wet for me," he groans out those words, his gaze fixed on where his fingers are playing with you, sliding up and making your clit twitch in response. He circles your clit with a precision that steals your breath, your hips bucking up to chase the sensation. "Look at you, dripping. All for me."
“All you, ngh!” He’s nudging your thighs apart with broad shoulders, the heat of his skin seeping through your inner thighs, his tongue licking from your ass all the way to your clit. “Sukuna, want more. Want you inside.”
“Fuck,” you can see him rutting his cock on the matress, glaring up at you even with your slick on his mouth. “Don’t test my patience, brat. I’ll fucking break you if I put it in like this.”
“I want it,” he shakes his head, dragging you by your ass to his mouth, tongue slipping in your hole, feeling it quiver around his wet muscle. “Kuna…”
“Mmph,” he lifts his head again, running two fingers and sinking them in, watching your swollen folds suck them greedy. “Your first time, and you’re all slutty like this?”
“Shh,” you touch his lips, he nips your finger, looking at you as he curls his thick digits in your hole – moving up and down at a maddening pace, the pressure so much you feel dizzy. “Don’t be mean.”
“To you? Hah,” he flicks his tongue, groaning as you gush down his face. “This is sweet for me. Only for you.”
His words and his tongue fucking end you too quick, you barely have time to arch your hips and he hits your spot, making you gush syrupy arousal all down him. “Lemme suck you please.”
“Your lip hurts,” his words are surprisingly gentle, when he sucks your clit in his mouth and hums, drawing every bit of pleasure from your body. “Not tonight.”
“See? Mean,” he chuckles, standing and removing his pants, you blush when you look at him fully, he’s massive, his cock so thick and heavy, veins wrapping around the length of it. “Oh…”
“Oh,” he chuckles at your cute little expression, kneeling back over you, dragging you by your thighs down to the center of your bed, the way he handles you is addictive, but the way he looks at you is life ruining. “Sure you can take it, tiny little cunt, never been fucked.”
“I wanna try,” you whisper, whining out when his fat leaky cockhead brushes down your slit, pressing into your hole and making you gasp out. “Ah!”
“Last chance,” he says it through gritted teeth, hovering over you, his weight heavy on your body. “I won’t go easy on you once you get used to my shape. I’ll fuck you every position, fuck my loads of cum right back inside.”
You’re spasming just around his tip, he pauses and hovers over you, even now wanting you to make the decision. As dominant as he is, you are the initiator in all of your encounters. Sukuna clearly wants you to show that side of yourself.
You reach a hand down, wrapping a fist around his cock and pressing in, whining out in pleasure and pain as he slips further. “That's it, taking what you want. Good girl.”
He lifts a thigh, your nails press into his biceps, gasping when there is a prick of pain. He pauses again, looking at your face, brows lowering, cock pulsing already.
“Touch yourself again,” he orders softly, you reach down and rub your clit as he eases back out, then presses in once more. You're so full of him, you feel him everywhere. “Breathe, you can take me.”
You exhale, eyes locking with his, cunt struggling to fit his massive cock, but every little circle of your clit and his kisses, his touches, have you taking more. “So big you’re… s'big I j-just… feel…”
Sukuna shoves his cock in half way, your hips buck up, finger slipping with how wet you are, gasping as his cock stretches your walls. He barely moves at first, breaths coming in heavy, kissing down your neck, your cheek, pulling out and making you feel so empty before shoving his cock inside you fully.
“Kuna! Ngh!” You're drunk off the first few strokes, achingly slow, pumping your cunt so full, stretching her out. Sukuna groans and leans back, eyeing your cunt now, moaning and sinking his fingers into your hips.
“Look at that, hah,” his eyes are so black they're insane, his grin psychotic as he sees the way his cock moves in your pelvis. “Filling you up like this, hitting that cervix. Didn't I promise to… hah, bruise it?”
You can only nod and roll your eyes back when he does just that, pressing into your cervix and just rolling his hips. “Ah!”
“Fuck you're so tight,” he pauses now, exhaling. “Fit so perfect though, she's taking me so well. Like it's made for it.”
The praise and the way he looks at you is overwhelming, tears slipping from your eyes a mix of pleasure and so much more you can't even describe. He thumbs your clit now, eyes watching where he's splitting you open on his cock, you blush when you see just a hint of blood.
“I'm um… it's… mnh!” Sukuna thrusts hard, taking the bit of blood on his thumb and just lapping it up, it makes his lips crimson, you suck in a breath when he leans back down. His long pink tongue laps the remnants of your long gone innocence off his lower lip. “Kuna…”
“Can you take more?” He whispers, husky and hoarse, you nod eagerly. "Gonna ruin you for anyone else." That's when Sukuna loses the gentleness, the ease. Once he can feel your cunt has accommodated his shape, he moves.
He grips the plush of your thighs, pushing your knees up toward your chest to angle himself deeper, and bottoms out as much as he can in your snug little hole. The wet slap of his heavy balls against your ass where all the wetness is pooling echoes obscenely in the room, mixed with your desperate little cries, his gutteral moans.
The angle pushes him right on your cervix, and when he presses you can already feel yourself getting close. You’re so full, never having had more than his fingers, to have his girthy nine inches just buried inside your puffy cunt was almost too much. The stretch burns, an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you dizzy, your walls fluttering helplessly around him, pushing him to thicken more.
"Fuck, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” you blink back emotions when he leans down, pressing your knees parallel with your head, folding you right in half. “Cum, pretty little brat, cum f’me yeah? Let go."
Let go.
The words mean more than his cock breaking you, the way he cups your face even as he slams his cock so deep you see stars, and you shatter for him, cumming so hard you’re blinded, dizzy and almost faint from it. It hits so hard you can’t think, he lets your thighs down just a bit, driving into you harder, gripping your hand tight and lacing your fingers together.
He pauses for a moment, to get a breath, you’re pinned against the mattress under his weight, maybe the only thing keeping you tethered to earth while he fucks every thought right out of your head.
“Kiss me again, please,” you whisper, but he’s already lowering his mouth for you, so intimate when he slows his pace, getting close. His mouth is swallowing your gasps, kissing you messy and deep.
“M’gonna fill your cunt up, can you take it all?” You nod and he pulls back, leaned up on a hand, the other gripping one of your tits, littered with marks from his mouth. “Fill you up so full of me, drip me all out in his dumb fuckin’ mansion, huh?”
Sukuna is insane.
Sukuna’s cumming inside you, throbbing and pouring white ropes and flooding you, tongues messy and slipping together over and over. You’re flooded with his warmth, pushing you to shatter again, a lighter, softer orgasm that leaves you a sweaty, desperate little mess. He’s lapping the salty slick of that sheen of sweat off the crook of your neck, slowing down his movements.
The reality of what you’ve done should hit, right? That you lost your virginity to Sukuna, that his cum is inside you, that you’re married. Yet you can’t find it in your heart to feel bad, not when he looks at you like that, when he whispers your name with filthy little declarations of affection.
Your first time is with Ryomen Sukuna.
*****
Sukuna
You’re trembling underneath his heavy weight, breaths coming in shallow pants as he eases out his cock that’s coated in your slick, tinges of red and swirls of white. He parts your thighs and moans at the sight of how much of his cum you took, oozing from your wrecked hole, so much that floods out. He exhales, fingers trailing across puffy lips, making your hips jolt up.
“Ah!” He pauses, concern all over his features.
“Did I hurt you? Tiny little cunt, she took too much, huh?” He murmurs, struggling not to be too vulnerable with you, but how can he not be, when you’re like this? Trusting him to be your first.
He hasn’t even been someone’s first, has he already fucked it up, went too hard on you? Has he -
You drag him down for a kiss, leaning up on your elbow now, hair falling off your shoulders. Your lips still coated in just a hint of blood, he swipes it off with his tongue, making them glossy, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. Lost in your eyes, hating the fact that you’d be back with him tomorrow.
Sukuna couldn’t handle not knowing what happens when you’re there, what he’s filling your head with, what they are filling your head with. When all he wants is you to be fucked out, full of cum, giggling and punching at him with your cute little pink gloves. Is that really so much to ask for? To crave?
You, he craves you, all of you.
“I’m good,” you say softly, as if reading his mind just a bit. You’d be scared if you knew all he wanted. “I thought it would hurt so bad the first time from what all my friends said, and my mother. I thought it was like… lay there and deal with it.”
Sukuna frowns at that, seeing your lip quiver just a bit, before you catch it with your teeth.
“It was amazing,” you whisper, kissing him once more. “You didn’t hurt me, even if I am a little sore.”
“Good, you took it perfect,” you blush now, the color mixing with that slight purple bruising that still makes him furious, his hands cupping your breasts, making you shift your thighs just a bit. “You sure you’re all right?”
“I just want to focus on this,” you whisper, hand on his chest, feeling his heart against your palm. “Just this. Have you take it all away.”
Sukuna kisses you again, this time it’s even more desperate, his entire body shaking with his attempt to be just a little ‘gentle’ with you, when he wants to put you in every position he can. This feeling of not knowing how long he has with you, how long he’ll get this, see you in this way, filling him with an even more desperate need, you’re reaching down to stroke his cock now, ending him.
“I'm not done with you tonight brat,” Sukuna flips you over on all fours suddenly his fingers shoved in your messy cunt, moaning when he feels her clamping down on his digits. “Not close to done.”
Your answer is to arch for more, reaching a hand back for him to pin your wrist down. You're quivering around his cock when he eases it back in, watching the white cum leaking from your abused hole, reddened tip collecting it like nectar and pushing it back in.
“Gonna plug up all this cum so it can't leave,” he tightens his grip, heavy weight over you, lips against the shell of your ear. “Do you want that, pretty little brat? Me to fill you again?”
“Yes,” your eyes meet his, dazed and fucked out. “I want it.”
“So fucking beautiful, what did you do to me,” he still doesn't know what you do when you look at him like that. All you can answer is a soft cry, a kiss where your lip busts back open, and he licks the copper blood like he did your innocence.
When he pulls back your lips are swollen, crimson staining them, eyes all glossy as you clamp down. At that moment Sukuna knows he can never let you go.
When he fills your cunt from the back and his heavy balls smack your clit, when he pumps more cum inside your hole, he doesn't think he can ever let you go. How can he even let you go back?
You're not his yet.
That's unacceptable.
So he makes sure to fill you again, more cum flooding you, until you're getting cleaned up. Until he makes sure you eat even though you're dazed and fucked out. Until you're in one of his shirts that swallows you, and he's taking you to his bed, holding you against him.
Sukuna stays up just to watch you sleep, brushing your hair back and scowling at your phone that keeps going off.
Texts from Gojo.
He places your finger gently to unlock it – he doesn't feel bad about it. Not when you're meant to be his.
Just let me know you're okay, fuck…
I know that you hate me but I need to know if you're all right.
Please just answer me, I thought we… I thought maybe… never mind.
Sukuna is dangerous, okay? Could you just answer.
Jennifer isn't here if you want to come home tonight.
Fuck it, he can come too, just let me see you.
I mean… I mean fuck him, fuck this. Just ignore that shit. Good night.
Sukuna frowns at them, contemplating deleting them all for a brief moment, before stopping himself. He studies your face carefully in your sleep.
Was there something between you and Satoru?Sukuna can't say it will stop him – no, he'd do anything for you. Including getting your parents info and sending it to himself, smirking just a little bit. He wasn't a pro boxer for nothing – he can't wait to beat your dad unconscious.
You may be mad about it, but he knows what's best for you.
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If anyone talks shit about my damn reader I may crash out, she's trying her damn best my baby </3 also if anyone says finally I may lose it as well. ahaha I hope you all enjoyed this!!! we have a LONG way to go
