18+

Tease your boyfriend once? You get off with a warning. Tease him twice? ARMAGEDDON

Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro

Content Warnings: cockwarming, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, degradation, public sex, mentions of anal sex, mentions of oral sex, crying, they're kinda mean, negotiation (or coercion), mentions of teasing, slight misogyny, kinda just a lazy drabble tbh

SATORU GOJO

“Ah, ah, ahhh-“ Satoru taunts, grabbing your hips and pulling them down; a sound akin to a harsh slap has him grinning ear to ear as he sheaths himself back in your gooey depths. “You were talking big game earlier, angel-“ He sinks his fingers into the base of your scalp and tugs-

“You better show me what you’ve got.” 

You hiss, hands balling into fists and pressing hard on your boyfriend’s shoulders. “Too much, Toru!” you grit out between your teeth, your thighs burning in an attempt to raise yourself off of his cock. It’s simply too deep like this; the pressure of his swollen tip nudging your cervix as you’re forced to sit at the hands of his absurd strength. 

You can feel him rub every single inch of your sensitive walls with even the most subtle shift- “Too big- mfmm- need to m-move-“ you whine, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck, trying to garner any semblance of sympathy. 

“You should’ve thought about that before running that dirty mouth of yours all day, sweets.” He giggles, effortlessly holding you in place as you squirm. Satoru’s ready to keep you there—cockwarming him as long as it takes for you to give him the show he’s been dying for. 

“Are you going to be a woman of your word?” he starts, voice low and taunting. “Or are you just a girl who bit off more than she could chew?” he hums, leaning down to plant a gentle but patronizing kiss on the crown of your head. 

“You’re so mean.” you mumble against his skin, burying your face further into his shoulder. 

“I’m mean?” he scoffs, his grip becoming bruising on your waist. “Says the little tease-“ he lifts you up- “who can’t even handle dick like she said she could.” and drops you back down, down, down-

“Fuck!” you cry, choking on a high pitched moan as the very back of your poor cunt is slammed via cruel gravitational force. “M’sorry.” you whisper, letting out a shaky breath and fighting tears of frustration. 

“You’re sorry, are you?” he mimics, his grip on your waist loosening as he pulls your head from his shoulder; dilated sapphire eyes crossing every inch of your pouty face.

“Mhmm-“

“I’d say you better get to work, then.” Satoru pecks your lips before leaning back against the headboard and flashing you that cocky grin of his; two fingers raising in a round-a-bout motion. 

You give in. Your hips start moving on command—grinding, bouncing, rolling. Every small movement has you keening and him laughing with victory; occasionally raising his hips to meet yours just to see you twitch- 

You’re in for a long (and hard) night.

CHOSO KAMO

“Ngh- no more, Cho-“ you shudder, much smaller hands trying to push his pelvis from yours; his cock is buried so deep inside your swollen cunt you think you’ll burst- “can’t keep going, baby.” you mumble, eyes searching for his foggier ones; he’s absolutely gone- 

“Please-“ Choso whimpers, low voice cracking as he drops his head—sweat slicked hair brushing your collarbone. “you promised me earlier that-“ he pants, rolling his hips and stirring your ruined insides with desperation. “that we won’t stop until I cum dry.” 

Oh.

Oh- 

Yeah, your recently incarnated boyfriend hasn’t grasped the concept of hyperbole yet.

“What have I done?” you mutter under your breath, wincing with every shift of Choso’s impatient lower half. “Baby, I didn’t mean literally—was just- ngh- dirty talk- fuck.” your cunt squelches, a warm trickle of his previous load leaking down the crevice of your ass. 

“Why would you say something if you didn’t mean it, sweetheart?” he groans out the words, finally raising his head to look at you with those puppy eyes and confused brows. “You can’t promise something and then take it back-“ his breath hitches, an arm circling your waist to keep you from squirming. “Makes no sense.” 

“I just exaggerating, Cho-!“ you yelp when he flips you over onto your tummy, briefly pulling out before driving himself back home—his heavy build pinning you to the mattress.

“Y’feel so good- ngh- please, sweetheart.” Choso mumbles, cold lips brushing the shell of your ear as he leans down. “Can’t stop- mfm- need to fill you up again.” His legs bracket your hips, pelvis flush to your ass and heavy cock nestled inside your sensitive cunt. 

“I don’t even- fuck- know if it’s possible-“ you huff, hips wriggling to the best of your ability—his wide tip catching on that ribbed spot inside that makes you see white- 

“Ohhhh my god- Cho-!”

Choso bites back a whimper, giving you shallow thrusts as you endure that unforeseen orgasm—wincing with every hot spasm of your plush walls. “If what’s possible, sweetheart?” he coaxes, leaning back over you to plant a wet smooch on your flushed cheek as you ride out the aftershocks.

“If-“ you pant, body twitching and hands clawing at the sheets. “If you can even cum- ngh- dry.” 

He pauses for a moment, nibbling on his bottom lip and resting his full weight on your much smaller body—basically unknowingly crushing you. 

“I guess we’ll just have to find out.”

Ever the curious puppy.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

“What are you-“ your boyfriend growls, fingers digging into the plush of your hips. “some kind of slut?” he laughs, cruel and mean. “Just dying for attention, huh?” 

Sukuna’s got you pressed against the wall—face squished against the cold plaster of the dim hallway. His unfairly large cock is drilling into you from behind, interrogating you with every harsh thrust. 

Your crime?

The skirt that rides up with every step, slowly exposing more of your ass to the watchful eye. 

“Thought you could get away with it-“ he grabs a fistful of your hair, dragging your head back and exposing your dickmatized face to his greedy gaze. “Walking- damn- around like that, huh?” he bottoms out, hard. You nearly scream, though not before Sukuna muffles the sound with his palm. 

“I bet you like this shit-“ he looks down at your fucked out face, drooling and head laid back against his shoulder. “Bet you wore this sorry excuse of a skirt so I would fuck you out in public.” 

You whine into his hand, brows furrowing and knees nearly buckling with every snap of his hips. Your back is arched sooo deep, hands braced against the wall for some semblance of stability. 

“Yeahhh, that’s it, isn’t it?” he grins, eyes narrowing and teeth glinting in the flickering lights. “This cunt is awfully wet for a girl who should be embarrassed.” His tone is drowning in condescension, only succeeding in proving his point as your slick drip, drip, drips down your inner thighs. 

“Who knew I was dating such a fuckin’ whore?” he croons, expression now full of amusement as he revels in your inability to do anything but take it. You cry out into his palm as his thrusts grow rougher—lewd shlicks and the sound of slapping skin getting louder and louder.

You shiver, ears perking at the faintest sound of a door closing across the dark, back hallway. You attempt to mumble a warning to your boyfriend but you remain unable to speak—hole stuffed and mouth shut.

“Awe, did you say something, brat?” he teases, his other hand toying with the waistband of your skirt—pulling it back then letting it snap against your skin. “Couldn’t hear you over this needy cunt.” 

Yeah, wearing this skirt to the mall was the best and worst idea you’ve had all year. 

TOJI FUSHIGURO

“Need to-“ your words are cut off with a petulant whine, legs snapping shut and cunt pulsing in protest as your building orgasm is lost—again. The absence of Toji’s girthy fingers inside your weeping cunt has you damn near crying. 

“Nah, teases like you don’t deserve it, doll.” Toji smirks, the scar on the corner of his mouth stretching in the most infuriatingly hot way possible. “This is what tossing me a bone all week then leaving me with nothing gets you, babe.” he lightly smacks the side of your hip in mock comfort—the damn grin on his face never wavering as he watches you squirm in frustration. 

“Pleaseeee-“ you reach for him, nails clawing at his beefy forearm. “I said m’sorry-“ you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back down with you. “I’ll ride you, let you fuck my throat, my ass—whatever you want, just let me cum-“ you’re whispering now, putting everything on the table in the hopes of getting off. 

“It hurts, please-“ 

“Oh so you’re really desperate-“ he grumbles, face smug as cages you against the bed. “Hmm, give me all three and it’s a deal.” Toji stares you down, tongue pushing against his cheek before sucking his teeth—like a predator getting ready for a feast.

You accept your fate, really starting to regret your little week long experiment. “Fuck, fine-“ 

You keen, his digits already knuckle deep inside your neglected cunt before you can even finish your sentence. “Toji- ngh-“ he curls his fingers, prodding against that spongy spot that makes you stupid. “Need you-!” 

“Yeah you fuckin’ do, doll.” he huffs out a low laugh, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss. You hum, feet planting on the mattress and lifting your hips—chasing his perfectly skilled hand. 

“Faster-“ you murmur against his mouth, soon unable to kiss back as you go slack jawed. Toji nearly doubles in pace, small schlicks turning into loud squelches as he pummels your poor pussy. 

“M’gonna-“ you cry, breath heavy and voice pitchy. Toji just groans, shoving his tongue down your throat as he feels your cunt quiver around his digits. 

“For the record though, babe-“ he pauses, pulling away from your lips to watch you convulse. Your orgasm rips through you soon after—tummy clenching and nails clawing at his biceps. Toji fucks you through it, fingers slowly retracting before dipping down, down, down-?

“I’m fucking your ass first.”

note : this is part two! view part one here.

masterlist

track #20 - the end ➜] whole album ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

thank you so much to all of you. i am so glad you liked this. the crazy in me sees the crazy in you and i think that's beautiful.

Ryomen Sukuna

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, some religious connotations, condescension, mind-break/mind-control, hints of cannibalism, forced voyeurism/cuckolding

♡ FEM reader

"Yuji?"

It was a mistake of you to come. You should have stayed away, you should have listened to the brat's warnings, but you just couldn't bare the thought, could you? Sweet little dumb lamb up for slaughter.

"I'm afraid not, darling."

He took a step forward, you a step back, up all the way into the wall upon the sounds of bones splintering, morphing into a pair of extra arms sprouting out from his sides.

The room was dim, but his eyes glowed a warm ruby red instead of their normal golden brown, the scarring slits carved beneath them both now peeling open, awakening for another pair of jaded eyes looking at you like a predator eyeing prey.

"Yuji? Please..." You tried, but it was in vain.

A smile broke from his face like jagged cracked shards of glass.

"Angel face, I told you... Yuji's not here right now-"

♡ TW: noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, threats

♡ GN reader

For the first time ever, he’d been careless when he got home.

Tired after work, not paying attention. But you’d noticed. You’d been waiting for it, after all… for the moment he’d slip up and let you strike. 

Your pulse spiked and drowned out all other noise, letting you focus, but still… 

You jumped the gun.

You should have been more patient, should have waited until he was farther away, but waiting was dangerous—a double-edged sword—as it risked his coming closer as well. And so you pounced—sprang up from the couch you’d been rotting in and ran for it.

black smoke seeped through the oven and the machine beeped dramatically. You rushed over to switch it off, coughing as the smoke weaved through your lungs.

The chicken was ruined, making you stare at it for a minute.

Completely burnt.

You almost laughed, as the smoke still curled lazily toward the ceiling.

Almost.

Because after everything that had gone wrong tonight, the blackened chicken felt less like a disaster and more like an insult.

The candles had melted hours ago. The flowers were beginning to droop. The fancy dress you'd put on at six o'clock had been exchanged for sweatpants sometime around nine.

And Simon still wasn't home.

No text, no call, nothing. As if he had totally forgotten about you.

You checked your phone again, 11:47 PM. " where are you simon..." you mumbled to yourself.

An unsettling ache settled in your chest and.....disappointment. Not because he late, not because he'd missed dinner but because the day meant something to you.

And now it was over.

You sank into one of the dining room chairs, staring at the untouched plates sitting across the room. Waiting, just like the plates were.

A lump formed in your throat. You grabbed a napkin and scribbled a note.

Three words.

Maybe next year.

You left it beside his plate and went to bed, still clutching your phone in one hand. just in case.

Simon got home at 3:16 in the morning. His shoulders slumped with something more than tiredness. his stomach sank the moment he entered the apartment.

The mission had gone sideways. Communication had gone down. His phone had died. All of them excuses.

Because none of them changed the fact that he'd missed it, again.

Simon made his way to kitchen but stopped right in his tracks. he stared at the set dining table, the candles which were now reduced pools of wax, the faint smell of something burnt and a note.

"Christ", he whispered to himself. Something twisted painfully in his chest as he picked up the note.

Read it once.

Then again.

Maybe next year.

The disappointment hurt worse than he could imagine. He let you down, and he hated himself for that.

Simon lowered himself into the chair opposite the empty one. The chair that should've been his. The chair you'd probably stared at all evening.

Waiting.

The realization made him feel sick as his eyes drifted toward the kitchen. The burnt food, the dishes, the effort. Every little detail you'd spent hours preparing.

For him. And he'd never shown up.

A sharp ache settled behind his ribs, the familiar kind. Guilt.

You blinked awake as bedroom door creaked. For a moment you thought you'd imagined the sound. Then you saw simon standing awkwardly in the doorway, still wearing his gear and looking exhausted and guilty.

Relief hit first, at least he was home. Then the anger followed, as heat crept up against the back of your neck. You turned away, trying to hide the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and pulled the blanket higher.

"I'm sorry.", Simon whispered, sounding truly sincere. And you hated that cause it made staying angry so much more harder.

"Phone died."

"Mission got extended."

"I tried.", he said finally ,voice breaking slightly.

Your throat tightened. "Do you know how many times I checked my phone tonight?", you accused him, on the brink of breaking down.

Simon didn't answer. Probably because he knew the answer didn't matter.

Eventually you sat up and the sight of him nearly stole the rest of your anger.

He looked exhausted, bruised and worn down. my poor baby. But that wasn't fair cause you were allowed to hurt too.

"I waited." ,you whispered as your voice cracked.

"I kept thinking you'd call."

"I kept making excuses for you.", you sighed.

"I know.", simon whispered.

You finally broke down, damn tears. "I just wanted one night.", you sobbed looking absolutely heart broken. Cause you were.

Simon looked like you'd hit him ,his throat bobbing up and down. Then he approached you, slowly.

Then Simon reached into one of his pockets and pulled something out with his shaky hands.

It was a small, battered envelope.

"What is that?", you sniffled, wiping your tears.

His eyes stayed fixed on it.

"The card.", he whispered.

"What card?"

"The anniversary card."

You frowned as you looked at the tattered piece of folded paper.

Simon gave a weak laugh. "I've been carrying it around for two weeks....just didn't have it in me love. I'm not as strong you think i am."

Your chest tightened as he handed it over.

The envelope was bent, creased and worn from being shoved into gear and pockets. Inside was a handwritten message, three pages long.

His arms came around to hold you in the tightest embrace ever. As if he was afraid his mistake would cost him you.

You stared at the letter and then back at him.

"You wrote three pages?", you looked at him with teary eyes.

His ears turned slightly red, "It's not the point."

A laugh escaped through your tears. Oh how you loved him.

The corner of Simon's mouth twitched at the tiny success. Then he reached over and brushed away a tear, his thumb lingered.

"I know I missed dinner.", The humour disappeared.

"And I know I ruined tonight."

"But if I get another chance, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

You stared because that sounded suspiciously close to a promise and Simon Riley didn't make promises lightly.

Eventually you leaned forward and rested your forehead against his shoulder.

"i love you", he whispered as he tilted your face up and kissed away your tears.

"always"

ryōmen sukuna has a clingy s/o.

genre: fluff / comfort

the king of curses mutilates people for less than any of the things you do to him on a daily basis.

walking into the room to inform him of the latest update on the warfront, uraume decides they have certainly witnessed more compromising states than this.

they bow down before the king of curses, who is currently lounging on his throne with you draped over his shoulders—like some human mink coat or a sentient scarf of sorts, snoring softly into his unkempt hair.

“lord sukuna.” they rise and address him, tone within the emotional range of a stone.

“speak.”

“...i can return later.”

“no, report.”

uraume’s eyes divert to the snuffling form of you for exactly half a second, a monumental display of curiosity for the permafrost-carved servant. they begin their report, speaking in their usual monotone intonation, but sukuna catches note of the way their eyes keep drifting upward.

“what.”

“nothing, my lord.” uraume meets his four eyes, choosing the addition of words with care. “it’s just... interesting, to see you so—”

“watch your mouth before i slice it off.”

“accommodating.” uraume finishes, deadpan, because they've served him long enough to know when he’s all bark.

sukuna's upper set of eyes narrows, but the lower pair flicks upward—toward your head, where your exhales stir the fine strands of his light crimson hair.

“i am going to flay you,” he says, deeply flat.

burrowed so deep into the crook of his neck, sukuna feels the damp warmth of your huff against him like a warm parasite that had somehow convinced itself the king of curses is a personal mattress. your previously limp hand curls into the fabric of his dark kimono, loosely holding on to a fistful of the silk robe as you exhale harder into his thick neck.

uraume's eyebrow twitches, a fraction of a millimeter—practically a scream of emotion from them.

“finish the report,” sukuna growls, low enough that it vibrates through his wide chest—and through you, because you're plastered to his body like a second skin. you stir, mumble something unintelligible, and he stills again.

uraume continues, detailing the skirmish in various territories, relaying information on sorcerers who think they could exorcise a fragment of their lord’s power. standard fare and utterly boring, sukuna only half-listens. the other half of his attention tuned into the way your breath starts to even out again, deep and slow, weight becoming heavier against him—fully asleep and dead to the world, completely vulnerable in the lap of the most deadly being in existence.

reckless, sukuna thinks. how idiotic.

his lower left arm moves, the rough hand settling against the small of your back, steadying you as you slip dangerously close to sliding off his shoulder.

he adjusts without thinking—tugging you close against him, rearranging your limbs so you lay across his lap instead.

uraume stops mid-sentence.

“continue.” sukuna snaps.

“the latest front has been... largely pacified.” uraume’s voice is perfectly measured. their eyes are not—intrigued gaze fixing on the way sukuna’s thumb traces an absent circle against your spine. “we anticipate the remaining forces will mobilize. shall I—”

“no.”

uraume continues theorizing as sukuna's second mouth, the one on his stomach, lets out this tiny rumble—not quite a growl, nor a purr. something in between. something possessive.

he cuts uraume off without looking away.

“speak quieter.”

“very well.”

silence engulfs the quarters. uraume remains perfectly still, head bowed, waiting for the inevitable command to execute the upcoming massacres. the only sound is the rhythmic, maddeningly peaceful puff of oxygen against sukuna’s skin.

your hand finds one of his in your sleep, palm curling against two of his fingers. he stares at your grasp like it offends him.

"i am going to kill the rest," sukuna announces.

uraume nods, faint and brief.

“in the morning.”

“naturally.”

“when they’re awake.”

“i’m sure they’ll be devastated.”

sukuna’s eye twitches. he could kill uraume. he won't. but he could.

then you sigh in your sleep—soft, contented—and press a kiss to the inside of his wrist, right over his pulse point, where the skin is thinner and no one has ever been dumb enough to put their mouth.

sukuna’s grip tightens around yours, his chest tightening. he grits his teeth.

“uraume.”

they perk up.

“find a blanket.”

uraume blinks, most expressive they've been in decades. “...a blanket.”

“you heard me.”

“of course, lord Sukuna.” they bow, and sukuna picks up on the hint of a smile his servant holds off.

the sliding doors shut behind uraume.

then sukuna is alone. with you, your breath—the hands, tiny compared to his, enveloped in his, and the infuriating, tight heat spreading through his torso.

a curse user who has unraveled sorcerers from the inside out, yet he cannot bring himself to move.

-> 1.9k, suggestive-ish but sfw!

the arrangement was simple.

you were friends. who took care of each other's physical needs when required. which happens more often than not.

which is why it's embarrassingly stupid to sukuna that the moment it happens isn't even during one of those times—or perhaps it had, much sooner, and he'd just brushed it off as lust and nothing more.

he wasn't quite sure of anything anymore.

because right now, you were laid beside him on his creaky twin bed, the regular loud chaos of the frat house washed out by the impending exam season. everyone had no choice but to lock in. for once, it was quiet. no fortnightly parties, the scent of weed hadn't smacked you in the face the moment you'd stepped in through the front door with sukuna, and everyone was holed up in their rooms.

prompt: the jjk men snap at you for being "too clingy".

chars: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, ino, choso, higuruma, shiu, and sukuna

a/n: for my 500 follower event, I will now cease to exist /j

ʚɞ ⁺ ˖ ⸝⸝ . why must you bare your fangs at him? He just wants you to accept him properly . . . you’re quite lucky he likes it.

Sukuna had a weird way with words. Like seriously.

Maybe if he didn’t stare at you so intensely or give you not-so-ordinary gifts, would you look at him properly—but my goodness.

What’s up with this man? Or beast should I say . . .

At your feet lay his latest offering: a beautifully carved jade hairpin, something seemingly sharpened to needle-like points capable of channeling cursed energy.

The previous owner’s faint aura still clung to it—a rival clan’s prized heirloom, no doubt taken by force.

Or just sheer power difference, either way, it was in his hands now.

A small silk pouch beside it held what looked suspiciously like dried cursed flesh, preserved as some macabre delicacy.

“Wear it,” Sukuna commanded, lips curling into a cocky smirk. “Or eat it. Either way, you’ll carry a piece of my conquest with you. Most would beg for such favor.”

You looked at the offerings with a cocked brow, slightly taken aback by the forwardness he brought to your temple steps.

With crossed arms, you planted your feet firmly on the floor despite the way your pulse was beating quite hard. Your face was already betraying you with that familiar warmth—but you weren’t about to roll over like some common court lady.

“Ryomen…pardon me, but I refuse,” you said with a calm smile, tilting your chin up to meet all four of those eyes head-on.

Some might call you stubborn, or even foolish, for daring to reject such gifts from a god, someone capable of doing anything to his liking.

But you just cannot accept this behavior—not if you want him where you need him.

“I’m not a common lady who falls over anything thrown in her direction. I appreciate it, but…I certainly won’t accept whatever…that is.” You nudged the silk pouch with the toe of your sandal, wrinkling your nose.

“It smells like death, and it’s wilting my plants by its presence alone. Take it back.”

He let out a mocking laugh that vibrated through the wooden beams overhead, leaning forward on his massive frame until his face was far too close.

That stare—and god those eyes—pinned you in place, intense and never unyielding, like he was picking apart every penny of defiance in your expression. “You dare refuse a king’s gift, little fox? Most women would carve out their own hearts for a scrap of my attention.”

You huffed, swatting lightly at the clawed hand that reached for your chin. It was a soft swat, more of a playful push than real rejection, but it made your point.

“And most kings don’t need to bribe people with stolen trinkets and… preserved meat? to get my praise. If you want me to look at you properly, try something subtle for once. Like… I don’t know, a poem that doesn’t involve carving people or burning villages.”

Sukuna’s attitude didn’t fade.

If anything, he frowned, but there was a glint in his eyes—amused, maybe fond in the most odd way.

He butted heads with you like this every time he planted himself on your territory, growling and posturing, yet… he always yielded just enough.

Never fully, of course, as that wasn’t his nature. But here he was, retracting the pouch with one of his lower arms and setting it aside instead of forcing it down your throat like he secretly wishes he could.

“Subtle, you say…” he echoed, tasting the word like it was foreign and mildly insulting. “You test my patience, woman. Fine. No flesh, I suppose.”

He plucked the jade hairpin from the floor with surprising delicacy for such large hands, twirling it between his fingers before holding it out again. “But wear this. It suits your being. Refuse, and I’ll simply pin it in myself—while you squirm and complain the whole time.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, stubborn to the core, but the way he said it, sounding so sure of it, made something you couldn't put a stamp on flutter in your chest despite yourself. He was able to behave. Sort of. In his own way.

The beast actually compromised, even if it came wrapped in that cocky arrogance he liked to carry around all day.

“Oh, well…only because you asked so sweetly, how could I refuse?” you muttered sarcastically, tapping your chin, taking the hairpin, and sliding it into your hair with a careful slowness, making sure he watched every second.

Your fingers brushed the sharpened points, feeling the faint pings of cursed energy. It was beautiful, having its fair share of danger if not careful. Just like you. “There. Are you satisfied now? Or do you have another ‘offering’ lined up to make me question your loyalty?”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened with satisfaction, one of his lower arms coming up to brush a stray lock of your hair behind your ear—careful, almost reverent, even as his voice stayed rough and commanding as ever.

“You look at me now, don’t you? Defiant woman. Good. I enjoy these fangs you bare … almost as much as I’ll enjoy breaking you out of them,” He paused, then added with a head tilt to the side, “Or perhaps I won’t. Your stubbornness entertains me more than any conquest.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the smile tugging at your lips.

Seriously…What was up with this man? Or beast. Whatever he was, he had you butting heads right back every time… and somehow, you didn’t entirely mind.

Axe head, Scandinavia, 11th-12th century

the atmosphere was calm, well as calm as it could be with sukuna there. 

you sat curled up in his lap while he yelled at toji through his headset for the nth time. you shifted slightly before slowly sliding out of sukuna's lap, he muttered a quick 

“where ya goin?” his eyes shifted towards you, now fully out of his grasp. 

“bathroom.” 

he let out a low hum and returned his hard gaze back to his monitor. 

-

“holy shit ryomen, yer washed.” toji snickered through the mic. 

“easy to talk when you pick OKC every fucking round.” sukuna snarled back.

“aye back to back dubs speaks for itself.” 

“its been two rounds already?” sukuna checked his phone, its been almost 2 hours since you left his lap. 

“two rounds of belt? yea bro.” a snort came out from sukunas headphones. 

“im hoppin off anyway to go out with my girl. cus i got other shit to do, like my girl. get it? cus i have a girlfriend.”  sukuna teased. 

“blah blah blah we get it asshat.” 

sukuna chuckled to himself before logging off and heading over to barge on you in the bathroom, which was locked? he lifted a heavy knuckle and tapped on the door twice. 

“babe, you takin’ a shit?” 

pt two of this fic sukuna wakes up alone in the morning and is woken up by the sound of pots clanging and hushed chatter. he's on the couch but it's not yours. he doesn't remember the night much but he does remember being drunk and that girl kissing him. she looked an awful lot like you. so much so that when he pushed her away and rubbed the remnants of her gloss off her lips, he immediately headed for your apartment. he rubs his eyes in annoyance and looks up to find gojo bickering with geto about what to cook along with toji and choso sitting at the table passing a joint back and forth.

"can you idiots be any louder this damn early in the morning?" sukuna complains from where he laid on the couch. he's now come to realize that he crashed the night on gojo's couch. but he can only wonder how he got here; did you come with him?

"it's almost one, jackass— about time you got up," gojo calls from the kitchen, putting the pots away and deciding to just order door dash.

"yeah, yeah," sukuna grumbles. "pass me my phone will ya? my head's killing me." he watches as gojo and geto look at each other, a look of worry plastered on their faces. the two exchange looks and communicate wordlessly and sukuna is just about tired of it. "earth to dumb and dumber? i said where's my cell, i gotta text yn."

"uh," gojo starts, "what do you want for breakfast?"

"satoru's paying!" geto adds on with a smile that is a little too wide to be genuine.

"what are you two morons talking about?" sukuna says, starting to get irritated.

"yeah, there's no need to sugar coat it," toji says. he picks up sukuna's phone from the countertop and holds it up before tossing it to where sukuna is still laying on the couch. "go ahead, man; see if u can even still text her."

sukuna catches the phone and mutters under his breath, "what the hell are you-" he stops short at the sight of you message.

it's over ryomen. ill have your stuff ready for you in the morning.

suddenly, he's wide awake and disregards how his friends mutter about him a couple of feet away. he scrambles to get his phone opened and onto your contact. he reads the message over and over again and just when he sends his own message, the text bubble goes green. he sends some more, asking you what you were talking about and what happened last night. all his messages go green. he tries to call you and is only met with an automated voice message telling him your number could not be reached. he damn near threw his phone right back at toji's face.

pretty baby it's over ryomen. ill have your stuff ready for you in the morning.

ryomen s. ?? what r u talking about tf??? yn answer your phone what is going on

"what's up with yn's phone?" sukuna asks. "she turn it off or something?"

"maybe just for you," choso mutters.

"the hell did you just say to me?"

"listen sukuna," geto starts, not wanting the situation to escalate. "even you have to admit, you had this coming-"

"had what coming?" sukuna interrupts, now getting up from the couch and standing at his full height. "what the fuck is going on?"

"don't play the idiot now," toji says, "you seriously gonna pretend like you don't understand where she's coming from?"

"why are you talking like you know more about her than i do?"

"oh please— you're not exactly a tough act to follow, sukuna."

sukuna walks up to toji, challenging him to say anything more. "and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"it means you treat your 'girlfriend' like shit and everyone knows it." everyone's voices erupt as sukuna grabs the front of toji's shirt in a tight fist. gojo tries to step between them but sukuna only pushes him away with his free arm. "don't bother," toji says, still indifferent to the man in front of him, "he's just pissy because he knows im right. go ahead, punch me and prove me right. that you're just some asshole that yn was too good for."

sukuna clenched his jaw at toji's comment but ultimately lets go of his shirt with a rush shove. sukuna backs away as toji brushed away the wrinkles in his shirt. "now beat it, don't you have to pick up your shit from her place anyways?"

⁽⁽(੭ꐦ •̀Д•́ )੭*⁾⁾ ᕙ( ᗒᗣᗕ )ᕗ

sukuna shows up at your place with a busted lip and a dark bruise on his cheekbone. despite the fact that you left his things outside in a box, he continues to knock on your door and ring your doorbell. this has been going on for ten minutes.

"yn!" he calls from the other side of the door. "i know you have a class at two so you're gonna have to come out eventually."

at this point, you were contemplating jumping out the window and running to class. you stand in front of the door and glance at the clock reading 1:40. you sigh and come up with a simple plan; open the door, ignore him, and head to class without a single thought of him on your mind. but the second you open the door, you are reminded just how huge your boyfriend is. or, you suppose, ex-boyfriend. the man is towering over you and practically blocking the entire doorway. with how close you were standing next to him now, you can see how bad his injuries really are. you push away your thoughts of concern and lock the door behind you before you try and sidestep away from sukuna. that is until he grabs your arm.

"hey don't ignore me." his grip on your arm is firm but once you pull away from him, he lets go as if you've burned him. as if he remembered his own strength. you hear him mumble something along the lines of an awkward apology before he meets your gaze again. "can we just talk? for a second, please."

"what's there to talk about? your shit's right here," you say as you kick the box at your feet, "and i don't know how much clearer i could be in my text."

"that's just it," sukuna says, his frustration growing with the second. "a text? are you fucking with me- that's how you planned on ending things with me?"

"and what exactly did you think you deserved?" you ask incredulously. "flowers? a big sign like im asking you to fucking prom?"

"i expected way more than a fucking text."

"and i expected more out of you when we got together. guess we're both disappointed." your words and tone are final, leaving no room for argument. you move to the side once more, remembering the class you were now running late for. sukuna once again blocks your way and the desperate look on his face irritates you more than it does make you feel guilty. "get out of my way, sukuna. there's nothing else to talk about here."

"listen to me, please. i know— i know i wasn't the best boyfriend-"

"i don't even think you acted like a proper boyfriend once-"

"but i know that i loved you. that i still love you, so please. let me fix this, i know im just an asshole and i know you deserve so much better than me but im begging you here, baby. just let me try one more time, i know i can be better for you."

now, sukuna has dropped to his knees in front of you. he takes your hands in his in a final act of desperation. for the first time in months, he is in front of you sober and you know that if you asked, he would rip out his own heart for you.

you narrow your eyes at the sight in front of you; even with him kneeling he is almost at your height. but nevertheless, you knew that you deserved better than this, better than him. so you take your hands out of his grasp and turn away. just before walking away completely, you turn to look at him over your shoulder. "you better be out of here when i get back, sukuna. this time, i mean it."

ok boom!! this is my protest against my writing slump LOL ill mayhaps make a part three of sukuna trying to win us back but im ngl.. if my bf was kissing other girls, i am NAWT taking his ass back ദ്ദി( T ᗜ T ) divider creds to @/chrisssiren

sukuna taglist: @cttelina @bunbun812 @oksukuna @kriitee @bleepybl00p @sailormarsinanotherlife @sushikuna @icebearcucumber

you knew what you were getting into when you started dating sukuna; you knew the rep that surrounded him and the rumors that would follow. but some part of you—albiet a rather stupid part— thought that it wouldn't matter. you were in love, weren't you? at least that's what it felt like for some short time. those times quickly faded and were replaced by mere late night hookups and even later phone calls after days of radio silence from him.

today just happened to be one of the days where he stumbled back to your apartment and into your arms. perhaps another version of you would believe that he always came back to you because he loved you. now, as you look as his disheveled appearance and smell the perfume of another girl, you truly don't know what to think.

"hey, baby." he slurs over his words and the smile on his face would have had you fooled a couple of months ago. but you know better by now. and yet, you still don't push him away when he leans in for a kiss and walks into your apartment as if he owns the place. he pulls away from your lips but his hands stayed on your hips, preventing you from moving away. “y’know i love u right, baby?” sukuna says. maybe you would believe him if you couldnt practically taste the alcohol on him. in other circumstances, you wouldve thought he was really looking at you like he loved you. too bad you could see how red his eyes were. and if you looked even closer, you could see some remnants of glitter on his skin.

 it wasn't a shocker that sukuna was going to clubs and making out with other girls. you've seen the posts, heard the stories, and you've grown numb to it now. it's not like what you had with sukuna was official anyways. he could call you his girlfriend all he wanted and vice versa, but nothing would change the fact that what you had was not a relationship.

you put your hands over his and force his hands off of you. he practically whines at the loss of touch but you try to stay firm.

"what are you doing here, sukuna?" you ask.

"came to see my girl," sukuna says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "what's so wrong with me coming to visit you?"

because you never do unless your drunk off your ass, you think to yourself. you contemplate voicing your thoughts but decide against it. you were already exhausted and the last thing you wanted to deal with was the man standing in front of you vying for your touch. you contemplate calling one of his frat brothers to come pick him up, not wanting to deal with him tonight but his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"i feel like we never see each other anymore," he mutters, a frown prominent on his face.

"and who's fault is that?"

"are you mad at me or something?"

you rub your temples in an effort to ease the growing headache, "i'm just tired sukuna-"

"you never call me that unless your mad."

"it's your name, sukuna," you respond, emphasizing on his name causing his scowl to deepen. he's quick to step into your space and pull you into a hug once more, one you don't return. you feel him mutter something in the crevice of your neck. "what are you doing?"

"i said i love you," he repeats louder. "you never said it back."

"maybe tell me when your sober and i will."

"but im saying it now."

you push him away once more, making sure to keep him at an arm's length away now. "but you never mean it, do you?" his silence tells you everything you need to know. you sigh and drag him to the couch before pushing him onto the cushions. "you can stay here for the night but you're out of here when i wake up, understand?"

"you don't mean that, pretty baby," he smirks groggily, getting comfortable on your couch.

he's right, you didn't. but he didn't need to know that for now. you would deal with his ass in the morning. you toss a throw blanket on his face, "go to sleep, ryo."

before you get a chance to walk away, he grabs your wrist, "sleep with me?" the man is practically passed out but his grip is still a little firm. even then, it takes little effort from you to pry his fingers from your wrist. he's practically snoring by the time you've walked away. you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts until you land on toji's. you text him, knowing damn well he wouldn't answer a phone call, and head to your bedroom.

you i need you to get sukuna out of my apt

toji doesn't respond until ten minutes later and answers with only a thumbs up. you stay up long enough to hear the knock on your door and open it to find toji and shiu. they greet you lightly and move to sukuna, who was passed out and drooling on your couch. toji and shiu hoist him up, one of sukuna's arms on each of their shoulders so they are carrying him in between.

"is this your way of ending it officially?" toji asks, adjusting his grip on sukuna's arm, ignoring his unconcious grumbles.

"i'll shoot him a text or something in case this isn't obvious enough. get him to pick up his shit tomorrow," you shrug off, trying to come off as indifferent as possible.

shiu whinces, "ouch- harsh even for this asshole."

you narrow your eyes, "if you're going to defend him, i should've just dragged him and left him out there."

"and he would've deserved every last bit, sweetheart," toji says. him and shiu move for the door but just before they leave, toji looks at you over his shoulder. "i know he doesn't make it seem like it, but he really does love you, yn."

you shake your head softly but you do your best to give him a smile. "goodnight toji. night shiu." they bid you farewell and you close the door. you take out your phone from your pocket and click on sukuna's contact. you spend too much effort crafting the message and too much time re-reading it. you hit send before you have a chance of backing out and block him quickly after.

it's over ryomen. ill have your stuff ready for you in the morning.

sukuna was used to getting hit on. normally, he flat out rejects anyone that even makes an attempt to flirt with him. tonight he's taken you on one of your usual date nights, but imagine his surprise when the woman who approaches your table is hitting on you instead of him!

"ryo. ryo, ryo, ryo, i don't know what to get!" you pout, extending a leg underneath the table to graze your husband's calf as he grunts, brows pinched together in concentration as he stares down at the menu

"doesn't matter. i'm ordering half the stuff they have here anyway... you hungry for dessert too?" he questions, and you give him a deadpan look before he dramatically rolls his eyes, eliciting a giggle from you that has the corner of his mouth tipping upwards in a smirk

"fatty," he murmurs, and you make a point to dig the tip of your heel into his shoe, yet even through the pain, he maintains that annoying grin, and you shake your head with a laugh

the restaurant sukuna chose to take you out to tonight was located on the outer edges of the city near the water. your seating is overlooking the ocean, and you're not sure where you should stare—either at the lapping waves shimmering underneath the sparkling sun, or at your husband (an equally irresistible sight). he's wearing a tight black shirt with the first few buttons open, revealing the intricate details of his tattoos and the large expanse of his muscles and chest

a waitress eventually approaches your table. she's pretty—tall, lean, and wearing a dark red lipstick that suits her well—and you feel your heart sink a bit. you're sure she was staring at your table earlier, and you'd already assumed she was keeping an eye out on sukuna. almost subconsciously, you sit a little taller in your chair as she greets you two

"hello! i hope you guys are doing well. what can i get started?" she starts in an extra sweet voice, and you avoid her eyes and instead drum a single manicured finger against the table to distract yourself

you know you have nothing to feel insecure about, but anyone would feel a bit down if attractive women were constantly hitting on their husband, right?

without looking up, sukuna starts

"i'll have a plate of crab cakes, four fish tacos, one chicken marsala, one miso marinated black cob, two fettuccini pastas, one lobster ravioli, and one lava cake—and the center of it better not be undercooked. my wife doesn't like whenever it happens and i want her dessert to be nothing short of perfection." sukuna finishes, and the waitress looks genuinely distressed as she quickly jots down everything he said

"uhm, and all that is for just the two of you?" she questions hesitantly, and sukuna's gaze snaps up with a scowl

"yeah. and?"

you try to stifle your laughter as she quickly shakes her head with a smile, still writing everything down. your husband was... a bit of a big eater.

"no, no, i was just wondering— oh. did you say wife?" she frowns, and you try not to wince at twinge of disappointment in her voice

"if you were thinking i'm single, you're out of luck." sukuna states boldly, not bothering to give her any further attention as he folds up the menu and hands it to her

"uhm... i wasn't wondering about you. i was wondering about you." — and suddenly her gaze is pinned on you, and your eyes widen a fraction

"me?" you squeak in disbelief, and she smirks. it's cocky and slanted and it instantly reminds you of your husband's habit when he's teasing you, and you can't even try to hide the smile on your face as you cover it with your hand, caught off gaurd and embarrassed

"yes, you. you are beautiful. so, are you happily married to this guy, or just marri—"

"that's enough." sukuna stammers, and he looks genuinely mortified by the look of curiosity on your face. you giggle, shaking your head

"thank you... you're very beautiful too." you smile, and she actually blushes at your words, telling you she'll be out with your food soon as she walks back inside the restaurant with a lot more pep in her step than before

sukuna reaches over to pull your hand out of your lap and onto the table, and he adjusts your ring with furrowed brows as you giggle

"ryo—"

"i can't believe that woman's audacity—hitting on my wife! when i get home, i am writing the most deplorable review of this restaurant." he snaps as you let out a sudden laugh

"don't be silly, you big grump! she was nice," you smile, and he drags a hand down his face as if this was the worst day of his entire life.

sukuna wasn't used to women hitting on you. no man ever tried because all six feet of your husband was always looming behind you like a guard dog just waiting to rip someone's head off for looking at you too long, but he never suspected he had to look out for women too!

his brows are furrowed as he rubs a thumb over the diamond on your ring finger, and your gaze softens before you cradle his own larger hand in your own and press a kiss onto his knuckles. he blinks at you a few times before turning away with a huff, the tips of his ears a light shade of pink

"you're mine. you'll never indulge in anyone that tries anything with you, right?" he murmurs, still staring at your interlocked hands as you pout

"of course not." you promise gently, and he seems satisfied by your response as he holds your hand firmly in his own

after a moment of thought, he opens his mouth once again

"do you think we should make out to confirm our status for everyone else here?"