#jjk reader insert

[luffyssa]

‎ # NICKNAME !

sum. they ask what their name is on your phone pair. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, yuji, megumi, yuta, inumaki x reader cw. smau, crack

notes. omg i wrote the whole thing and while writing the tags i realized i didnt add choso UGHHH im so sad now

[satorusugurugurl]

JJK Men: I’m Not Going To Make it Home

Character: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Toji, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU), Kamo Choso, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: angst, final goodbyes, suggestive death, near death

A/N: 🥲

Part Two

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks ks @reap3erslov3 3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Smau tag:

@creative1writings

[idkmanimreallysleepy]

I'm absolutely feral for this man.

[twinkletfout]

Ever thought about Choso humping to a pillow thinking about you? Cuz i know i did

Choso was so desperate to be inside you, after all he came back from a really long mission just to have you in his arms, to bend you over and fuck you till you see stars. But the thing is, you weren't home. And Choso most definitely couldn't wait anymore.

He took the pillow you used to lay down to sleep. he could feel himself growing aroused just from the lingering scent of your favourite perfume. He felt embarrassed about what he was going to do but he still slid down his pants, the tip of his cock already wet with his precum. Feeling himself rubbing against the cold pillow of yours, "ha.. what am i doing..?" He mumbled to himself, growing impatient as he thought this was your pussy he was grinding on to. Soft huffs and moans filled the room, "b—baby, hng, im close, so close" his eyebrows hardened as he closed his eyes to focus on the sensation, the pillow was gradually getting wet under him because of his slick.

He could feel his orgasm taking over him, placing the pillow under him as he grinded against the fabric at an extreme pace, he clutched on to the soft pillow, scrunching it in a way so as to catch his release. His hips bucked a few more times, lazily moving it as it was now completely drenched with his load.

"ughh what a waste.." he said as he slumped on to the bed

[3seven-gambler]

#⌁꒰You using theiɾ shiɾt ; JJK men꒱

⋆ word count: 1276 ⋆ genre: fluff, suggestive. ⋆ includes: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, higuruma hiromi, toji fushiguro. no specified pronouns. ⋆ a/n: this is my first writing in months, so bear with me pls(╥﹏╥) -~~~reminder that english is not my first language~~~

࿐♡Ꮐꮻꭻꮻ Ꮪꭺꭲꮻꭱꮜ

Gojo had -surprisingly- woken up before you after a rough night you both share. He put on some sweatpants and made his way into the kitchen, deciding on preparing breakfast for both of you. While he was making your favorite dish, he sensed a presence behind him.

-"Good morning, beautiful" he said while turning around to face you. -"How's my princess/prince doing?" he then took complete notice of your choice of clothing that morning, this being one of his shirts, which showed just enough of your body for him to go feral. He could see all the marks he had left the night before all over your tights, as well as some of the marks in your collarbones, marks for only him to see (along with some others that might be for the public eye).

-"Seems you like what you see" you said with a sleepy but teasing voice.

Satoru kept looking at you for a few more seconds. He dropped what he was doing and walked over you, grabbing your face softly with both of his hands. -"You look stunning" he said with a soft smile while giving you small pecks all over your face, and then he gave you a grin -"Maybe I should fuck you more often~"

-"Gojo this is the fifth time we do it in less than two days-"

࿐♡Ꮐꭼꭲꮻ Ꮪꮜꮐꮜꭱꮜ

Geto was reading a book while laying on the bed of your shared bedroom. He was patiently waiting for you to come out of the shower so both of you could cuddle for a while before preparing dinner.

-"Hey, sorry for making you wait" You suddenly say while opening the bathroom door.

Suguru drifts his eyes from the book to your figure, watching as you grab one of his shirts to put above your breath taking body.

-"Don't worry, my love, I don't mind waiting for you." He said while staring at you.

-"Is something wrong?" You said as you take notice of his staring.

-"Mh, no, not at all." He said smiling fondly at you.

You crawl into the bed and Geto leaves the book by his side, turning your way to hold you. You notice how he still has his eyes glued to you. Before you could ask again, he spoke.

-"Maybe I should toss all of your clothes and make you wear mine." he said while softly while caressing your tights. -"But at the same time, if you wear my clothes everyday, I don't think I could hold myself..."

࿐♡Nꭺɴꭺꮇꮖ Ꮶꭼɴꭲꮻ

For Nanami's dislike, he had to go home later than usual. It was Friday, meaning that you and him were going to spend time together. Every weekend you would spend time in each other's houses, and this time it was your turn to stay in Kento's house. He phoned you earlier, telling you that he was going to be late and saying how sorry he was. You brushed him off saying it was ok, that you would make dinner alone for you both. He told you it wasn't necessary, that he could grab some food on his way home but you insisted of making it yourself.

Later on, you went to his house. Opening the door with a spare key he had given you a while ago, you made your way inside. Before starting to cook, you went into Kento's bedroom to get change into more comfortable clothes, but noticed that you haven't brought your pajamas.

-"Oh, what should I use then?" you asked to yourself. You looked up and saw a pile of old shirts that your boyfriend usually uses in the comfort of his house. You smiled mischievously and grabbed the one he uses the most, and then you were ready to start making his favorite dish.

A few hours later, when dinner was almost done, you heard some noise coming from the front door. -"Y/N, I'm here" you heard your beloveds voice.

-"Kento! Hi! I'm in the kitchen!" You said happily.

Nanami quickly made his way into his kitchen where he was greeted not only with an amazing smell coming from the oven but with the most stunning view he had been waiting to see all day. You, all cute in his shirt. Wait, his shirt?

You took notice of this and said -"I'm sorry for this." You said grabbing a bit of the shirt -"I forgot my pajamas at my place so..." You couldn't finish since Kento's lips were on yours.

-"Move in with me." He says in a pleading yet mandatory way.

࿐♡ꮋꮖꮐꮜꭱꮜꮇꭺ ꮋꮖꭱꮻꮇꮖ

It was late. As it usually happends. And he knew. But he couldn't do much about it. Work has been more troublesome these recent weeks, and all Higuruma could think about was coming home to you. He was more than thankful to have found someone as patient as you, since this is not the first time he comes home late. As he goes inside the house, he calls your name, quickly making his way to the living room. His anxiousness calms down when he sees your angelic sleeping form, hugging a pillow as if your life depended on that. He lets out a soft chuckle and before waking you up he takes full notice of what you were wearing.

-"Of course you grabbed one of my shirts" he said smiling to himself. It isn't the first time he sees you in one, since you had asked him a few times before for his permission to wear one. But every time he sees you wearing his clothes, he gets giddy with excitement.

-"Hmm? Hiro?" You said almost in a whisper.

-"Hello baby, I'm home" He said sitting by your side.

You let go of the pillow you were hugging before and you sat on Higuruma's lap, hugging him instead.

-"I missed you" you said hiding your face against his chest.

-"I missed you too sweety, you have no idea how much I did" he said hugging you back.

࿐♡Ꭲꮻꭻꮖ 𝖥ꮜꮪꮋꮖꮐꮜꭱꮻ

He told you not to worry about the rain, since he was sure that it wasn't going to drop. The both of you had planned to go out on a date, but it seems that the weather had other plans for you.

-"I'm never trusting you with this again!" You said while running to his place.

All he could do was laugh. When you were both at the entrance of his flat he said -" 's just water, sweetheart"

-"I know that! But I'm all soaked wet and cold!" You said pouting.

-"Mhhm? Is that so?~" he purred into your ear -"I think I can help with that~"

You just push him away from you -"You can help me by giving my dry clothes" you said crossing your arms.

-"Whatever... You can grab something from there" he said pointing to his bedroom.

You went on and opened the wardrobe door. You were about to grab just one of his regular black t-shirt when you notice a white shirt hanging out there, being one of the only -if not the only- white piece of clothing there. You quickly changed and went over where your boyfriend was.

-"Are you going to take a bath?" You asked to get his attention.

-"Yeah, wanna jo-" he stopped talking as soon as he saw you -"Where did you find that?"

-"There" you said pointing to his bedroom as he had done before. -"Do I look good?" You said playfully smiling.

Toji felt no shame as he scanned you from head to toes. He suddenly grabbed you and tossed you on his shoulder. -"T-Toji?! What are you doing?! Put me down!"

"You, me, bath. Now." Is all what he said.

❥ 𝖱𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽. || 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖱𝖤𝖯𝖮𝖲𝖳/𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖭𝖲𝖫𝖠𝖳𝖤.

[luv4nanamii]

jjk men reacting to you saying "I hate you" as a joke!!

ft. satoru, suguru, inumaki, nanami, itadori, yuta & megumi !

enjoy ;)

this took so long OMFG pls send in ur reqs if you have any!!

[k-nayee]

Cursed in the Spider-Verse JJK x Spider-Verse ii

wc: 3.7k a/n: lol, once again a part-two series became part three.

Jujutsu Kaisen x Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

Traveler M.List

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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The doors to the Jujutsu High teachers’ lounge slammed open so hard they bounced back with a loud bang.

Nanami's brow rose in irritation from his seat at the table with the daily newspaper in hand while Yaga paused in his knitting, his fingers halting over the newest cursed doll he had been conjuring up.

Even Gojo, who was laying sideways on the couch with a cup of bubble tea, tilted his head curiously at the sudden intrusion.

Itadori stumbled in first, his breaths ragged, his face pale as his wide eyes darted around the room. Megumi followed close behind, his shoulders stiff with tension.

The previous warmth that filled the lounge stilled instantly.

"Heyyy!" Gojo's sing-song voice was the first to break the silence. "Look at you two! Did ____ beat you up in training or something?” His usual playful tone carried a smirk as he added, “Don’t tell me my favorite kouhai is out there gloating while you come running to cry like sore losers.”

At the mention of your name Itadori froze mid-wheeze, his eyes going wide. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

Gojo’s smirk faded instantly, the playful edge in his tone faltering. "What happened?"

Nanami set down his papers with deliberate care as his narrowed gaze looked between the boys. Yaga had leaned back in his chair at this point, his usual firm expression growing darker as he took in the sight of them.

Itadori ran a shaky hand through his hair. "She...she's—"

“Move, move, move! Let me through!”

Nobara stormed in, dragging a thoroughly exasperated Maki behind her. The spectacled teen's hair was slightly mussed, her usually neat uniform wrinkled as she scowled.

“The fact I let you to drag me along this shit...” Maki muttered darkly, her voice laced with irritation.

“Yeah yeah whatever. You'd do anything for ____,” Nobara replied dismissively, her arms loaded with shopping bags.

Seconds later Panda and Inumaki followed them also carrying an array of bags. Panda, grinning like a child, sported a fuzzy white sweater that seemed just a size too small.

Meanwhile Inumaki had a pair of sleek sunglasses perched on his nose making him look unbothered and far too cool for the chaos he’d walked into.

“Yo! We’re back!” Panda announced proudly, holding up his bags. “Check it out—look at this sweater! So stylish right?”

“Salmon,” Inumaki added with a nod of approval, adjusting his sunglasses.

Nobara ignored them, her sharp eyes scanning the room until she landed on Megumi and Itadori. Her brow furrowed immediately.

“Speaking of ____, where's my favorite partner-in-crime?” she asked as she dropped the bags unceremoniously to the floor. “I found the cutest top and sweaters for her—she's gonna love it!”

Itadori flinched again, his face twisting into an expression of pure guilt. The silence that followed her question was deafening.

Nobara’s playful tone vanished in an instant. “Where is she?” she demanded, her voice sharp.

Megumi took a deep breath in attempt to keep his voice low and controlled. “The mission we were sent on...The Grade 2—”

“Grade 2?!” Itadori interrupted, his voice rising as his frustration boiled over. “It was not a Grade 2! That thing was way above our level—”

Thunk!

Nobara slammed her fist down on Itadori’s head making him stumble forward. “Shut up and let him finish idiot!”

Itadori groaned rubbing the back of his head. “Fine fine…”

The argument sparked a chain reaction.

“What kind of curse was it?” Maki asked sharply.

“Why didn't you call for backup?” Panda chimed in a scolding way.

“Salmon roe,” Inumaki added pointedly.

“Shut the hell up. All of you!”

The voice was gruff and mocking, its origin unmistakable as everyone turned their attention to Itadori’s cheek.

Sukuna’s mouth curled into a wicked grin, his crimson eye gleaming with malice.

“Finally,” he sneered, “I thought I was going to have to listen to you brats cry all night. The little broad? Yeah, she got sucked into a portal by a curse way out of your league.” He chuckled darkly, his voice dripping with derision. “Not that it matters. She’s probably dead by now.”

The room froze.

For a second no one moved. The weight of Sukuna’s words hanging in the air like a guillotine un—

“WHAT?!” The uncharacteristic outburst came from Inumaki, his usual restraint shattered in an instant.

"Dead?!" Nobara wailed, her arms flailing dramatically as she dropped her shopping bag. "Are you serious?! She’s not—she can’t be—”

“Shut up!” Maki’s voice cut through the chaos as she slammed a hand down on the table, her sharp glare pinning Sukuna in place. “What the hell do you mean ‘out of our league’?”

“Exactly what I said four-eyes,” Sukuna sneered, his gaze flicking lazily to her before settling back on the panicked group.

“Enough.”

The single word came from Yaga whose firm tone silenced the room instantly. His expression remained unreadable, but those who truly knew him noticed the subtle tightening of his jaw.

Megumi took a deep breath. “The curse...”

All eyes returned to ravenette. He looked down for a moment to collect his thoughts before raising his gaze once again.

“It wasn’t like anything we’ve fought before—much stronger than we anticipated," he began. "It could manipulate dimensions. The curse called itself Masato."

Nanami, who had remained silent up to this point, straightened slightly. "Masato? That name sounds familiar..."

"It wasn't normal," Megumi continued, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. "It opened a portal right under her. We tried to stop it, but…” His voice trailed off as his composure wavered.

“She was gone,” Itadori finished weakly, voice barely above a whisper.

Gojo’s posture was unusually still. Even with his eyes covered, his displeasure was clear to see.

"Sukuna."

The atmosphere was cold, tense as Gojo turned his head toward Itadori—or more specifically toward the grinning mouth on his cheek. “You seem to know more than you’re letting on. Care to share with the class?”

Sukuna's mouth curled into a mockingly thoughtful smirk. "Maybe I do....maybe I don't."

The tension in the room grew so thick it was almost suffocating.

“Oh come one…” Gojo’s voice was light, though the edge in his tone was unmistakable. "This is the child of the Principle of Tokyo's Jujutsu High we're talking about! You’re really gonna tear this poor man’s family apart like that?”

Gojo tilted his head slightly toward Yaga who remained stone-faced. But the slight clenching of his hands as they rested on the desk betrayed the concern he wasn’t voicing

Sukuna’s grin widened. “Child huh? Could’ve sworn she was adopted.”

The air shifted.

Gojo took a step closer,his tone dropping to a dangerous calm. "Sukuna," he repeated the King of Curses name.

Sukuna chuckled tauntingly. "Or what? You’ll fight me? That's cute."

Gojo’s expression didn’t change, but a faint hum of cursed energy crackled in the air around him.

“If you know anything about how to get her back you’ll tell us,” he said, his voice colder now. There was no room for argument in his voice—it was an order.

The room felt frozen, it felt almost too tense to even breathe as the two powerhouses sized each other up.

For a moment Sukuna simply stared at Gojo, the grin never faltering. Then he let out a sinister laugh. "Fine fine. I'll tell you something...for a price."

"A price?" Gojo's gaze darkened, and a faint hum of cursed energy crackled in the air around him.

Sukuna's grin widened. "Nothing in this world is free Satoru. You want her back? It’s gonna cost you. And trust me…” His voice dropped, almost a purr. “The price won’t be cheap.”

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The cool night air nipped at your skin as you climbed in through Miles’ window, his hand firmly on the small of your back to help steady you.

He moved quickly, already crouching inside his dimly lit room as he pressed a finger to his lips.

“Shh!” he whispered barely above a breath. “Just a heads-up, my parents are not only super light sleepers, but also not cool with the whole sneaking-a-girl-through-my-window thing. So y’know, the whole interdimensional-traveler-from-an-anime-universe thing would probably make their heads explode.”

You shot him an unimpressed look, brushing the dust off your uniform as you landed softly on his carpet. “Noted,” you whispered back dryly as your eyes began to scan the room.

A small lone lamp in the corner casted a soft yellow glow over the space, illuminating the walls lines with posters of graffiti art, vibrant sketches, and a few music icons you vaguely recognized.

A cluttered desk sat in another corner, covered in half-filled sketchbooks, cans of spray paint, and what looked like a half-finished design he’d been working on.

The bed, unmade and covered in a navy-blue blanket, sat beneath a few shelves stacked with books, comics, and what looked like action figures.

Messy yes, but in a way that felt...lived in.

Miles scratched the back of his neck once he caught your staring, his lips twitching into a bashful smile.

“Uh yeah. Welcome to Casa Morales,” he gestures dramatically as he moved further into the room. “Not exactly Jujutsu High, but it’s home.”

You ignore his attempt at humor. Your body was still tense from the events of earlier, your mind racing to figure out where you were, what was going on, and—most importantly—who this boy was.

He offered you a small smile and gestured toward his bed. “You can sit here if you want.”

You didn’t move, choosing to stay near the window. “I’m fine standing. Just start talking.”

Miles blinked. “Right. Yeah. Okay, but first…” He reached up, tugging at the edge of his suit mask. And as the mask slipped off, you found yourself momentarily caught off guard once again.

The dim light in the room hit him differently.

His skin glowed warmly under the soft glow of the lamp and his honey-colored eyes sparkled with a kind of youthful energy that was hard to ignore. His hair was cut in a clean fade, the tight dark curls on top so fluffy and healthy it almost felt unfair.

He looked…boyish. Young. He couldn’t have been much older than you—sixteen at most.

And yet there was something about him that made you pause.

You realized you were staring, snapping yourself out of it, straightening and forcing your expression back into its usual guarded state.

“Stop stalling,” you fold your arms. “You still haven’t explained how you know everything about me.”

His smile turned sheepish.

“Fair point. Anyway, uh—come here!” He practically bounced toward the bookshelf above his bed.

You move over to his desk to lean against. “Alright Morales,” you said, quirking an eyebrow. “Let’s hear it.”

Miles didn’t answer right away. Instead he squinted his eyes, scanning the shelves with a focused expression before letting out a triumphant, “Aha!”

Pulling out a comic book, he holds it up like it was a trophy.

“This,” he said, his voice brimming with excitement. “This is how.”

You tilt your head as you step closer to get a better look. Edges slightly worn from use, the glossy cover of the comic stared back at you causing your breath to hitch.

It was you.

The artwork was stunning as it captured you mid-action. Your figure stood in the center of the page, fiercely staring down the viewer with a vague smirk tugging at your lips.

Your hands were outstretched with cursed energy crackling around you as the world behind you was frozen solid—time itself locked under your control.

The title in bold letters read: Jujutsu Kaisen Gaiden: The Path of ____

“…What the hell is this?” you muttered, reaching out to take the book from him.

“That’s you,” Miles said proudly, grinning ear to ear. “The Jujutsu Kaisen manga is huge here. Like...huge. This issue is a special one—a sort of in-between-arcs, and it’s one of my favorites. I mean look at you! You look so badass.”

You hesitated before flipping it open, the pages feeling oddly heavy in your hands. The first panel was a memory—a scene you could never forget.

It was the day Yaga—Masamichi—took you in. You couldn’t have been older than seven, your small hands clutching a scarf too big for your neck as he knelt in front of you, his face kind but serious.

Your chest tightened as you stared at the page. You flipped to the next panel, your stomach twisting as you saw more memories.

The years you spent with Megumi flashed by—how he would summoning his shikigami for fun before you had mastered your freezing techniques, how you both used to hide under the school steps when you wanted to skip chores.

Another page.

The moment you met Yuji for the first time, your staff swinging toward him as he dodged at the last second. You remembered the way he grinned at you as though he hadn’t been intimidated in the slightest.

The panels flowed like a movie reel, showing moments you had long thought belonged to you alone:

Late nights spent sneaking extra snacks from the school kitchen with Megumi. A quiet moment in the garden where you sat with Yuji, his head tilted toward the sky as he talked about his grandpa’s last words.

Things that had happened in private. Moments you’d only shared with your closest friends.

It was all there...everything was there.

“This...this isn’t possible,” you whispered, your fingers trembling as you turned the pages. “How did you do all this?”

Miles was quiet for a moment as he shifted on his feet. “It wasn't me,” he said cautiously. “It was an manga artist, his name is Gege Akutami. I told you—you’re a character in my world. People read about you.”

You stared at him then down at the book in your hands. It was too much. It was all too much.

But then you reached the final pages of comic and your heart sank. The fight with Masato—the curse that had dragged you into this mess—was laid out in shocking detail.

You could see every strike, every movement, every moment you had shared with Yuji and Megumi as the three of you fought....

And then the panel of you falling into the portal.

Your hand was outstretched, reaching for Yuji and Megumi as they desperately reached back. The expression on your face—fear, determination, and sadness—was captured so vividly it made your stomach turn.

“That’s…that’s where it ends,” Miles said softly, pointing to the panel. “No one knows what happens after that. Been a huge cliffhanger for months actually.”

You slammed the comic shut, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

“This is insane,” you muttered, your voice shaking. “How does your world know all of this? How can I be—” You stopped yourself, unable to even say the word.

“A character?” Miles offered gently. “I know it’s a lot. Believe me, I’d freak out too if I were in your shoes.”

You turned away as you clutch the book tightly. The fight, the portal, the look on Yuji and Megumi’s faces as you disappeared—it was all burned into your memory.

And now seeing it again, drawn on a comic page for strangers to consume as entertainment...

Before you could spiral too far, Miles grabbed your wrist and tugged you toward his desk.

“Hey hey—don’t get all gloomy on me now,” he said, his voice light and reassuring. “Let me show you something cool!”

You let him pull you along, your curiosity overriding the heaviness in your chest. He sits you down at his desk-chair and quickly wakes up his computer.

The screen flickered to life and he began typing furiously, pulling up tabs faster than you could process.

“Alright...check this out,” he said, spinning the monitor toward you.

You were met with endless fan art—your face in every style imaginable, from detailed realism to exaggerated chibi drawings.

One image showed you standing shoulder to shoulder with Megumi and Yuji, snowflakes falling around the three of you, while another depicted you mid-fight, your staff raised high and ice shards surrounding you like a storm.

“People love you,” Miles babbled as he scrolled through the images. “Look at this one—oh and this! And there are fan polls too. Like, tons of them. Who’s stronger, you or Gojo? Who’s your best ship? People even debate your favorite food. It’s wild!”

“Ship?” you echoed, leaning closer.

“Yeah, like who you’re supposed to end up with romantically.”

Your brain short-circuited for a moment, but before you could demand clarification, something on the screen caught your eye.

You point at the screen. “What’s that one?”

“Oh that’s a fan theory about your technique,” Miles explained, clicking on the post. “People think you’re gonna unlock some next-level time-freezing ability soon. They call it Chrono Dominion. Sounds pretty sick right?”

You could only blink. “I don’t even know what that is.”

Miles laughed. “Yeah well fans go crazy with theories. Oh and here’s your wiki page!” He clicked on another tab, revealing a detailed biography filled with stats, trivia, and even a popularity ranking.

You squinted at the screen, your voice flat. “Why does it say my favorite food is taiyaki? That’s not true.”

Miles grinned sheepishly. “Uh…artistic license?”

As he scrolled, a tab briefly flashed across the screen. Your caught glimpse of it made your brows furrow—Rule 34: ____ [NSFW], it blinked innocently among the others.

“Wait—what was that?” you asked, leaning forward and clicking.

Miles froze, his entire body stiffening as an array of pictures appear. “Nothing! It’s nothing!” he nearly shrieks, quickly closing the tab with a flustered expression.

Your eyes narrowed. “Was that…? Was that...hentai?!”

“No! No no no!” Miles said as he waves his hands frantically. His face flushed as he laughed nervously. “I mean not on purpose! It’s—it’s the internet! Stuff like that just happens! I wasn’t even looking at it—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You can feel your face heat up as you turn away horrified. “What are you, some kind of perv?”

“I’m not a pervert!” he exclaimed, practically falling out in desperation to defend himself. “I swear it wasn’t me—it was the algorithm!”

“Yeah the algorithm,” You mutter as you glare at him.

Desperate to change the subject Miles suddenly blurts out, “So! Anyway about the love triangle!”

“Love triangle?” Your glare softened slightly, replaced by confusion. “What love triangle?”

“You know,” he said, brightening. “The big Jujutsu Kaisen love triangle!”

You tilted your head, still not understanding. “You mean...between Gojo, Geto, and Shoko?”

Miles paused, looking at you like you’d just sprouted another head. “What? No, I’m not talking about—”

“I knew it!” you interrupted, your entire demeanor shifting in an instant. Your eyes lit up, sparkling with excitement as you leaned forward. “Me and Nobara totally have theories about them! Like, okay, listen—”

“Wait hold on—” Miles tries to cut in, “That’s not—”

“We’ve been piecing it together forever right?” you said, your excitement spilling over as you launched into full gossip mode. “The way Gojo and Geto used to look at each other? Please, there’s no way that was just friendship. And Shoko totally knows—she’s in on whatever they had going on. Like c'mon it's sooo obvious.”

Miles opened his mouth to object again but you weren’t done.

“Seriously,” your tone grew more animated. “There’s no way it was just a friendship. I mean, Nobara and I have been compiling clues for months. And then there was this one time Shoko made this offhand comment about how they used to share—”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Miles finally interrupted, holding up his hands to stop your tirade. “First of all there is no Shoko in their relationship.”

You paused, blinking. “Wait...really?”

“Of course,” Miles said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone knows Geto and Gojo are the OTP of the century—GGs for life. Nobody can come between that.”

“Oh...” Your shoulders slumped slightly, a pout forming on your lips. “So...you weren’t talking about them?”

“Nope,” He pops the p. “I was talking about the real love triangle.”

You frowned. “What real love triangle?”

Leaning casually against his desk, honey-colored eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know—the one between you, Itadori, and Megumi.”

The words hit you like a slap to the face. “Huh?”

“Yeah,” Miles continues nonchalantly. “It’s a huge deal in the fandom. Like one of the biggest debates in the entire series.”

Your jaw drops. “Wait hold on! What?! No no no! They’re my best friends! That’s it!”

Miles shrugged, clearly amused by your reaction. “Hey that’s how it starts. You spend all your time together, fighting side by side, sharing moments—all that good stuff. People can’t help but see the tension.”

“What tension?!” you demanded, your voice rising slightly.

“Exactly!” He snapped his fingers. “That’s what makes it so great. It’s subtle! It’s all in the looks and little moments. You don’t even realize it’s happening, but the fans? Oh they see it. The angst, the chemistry, the possibilities.”

You backed away, shaking your head as your mind spiraled into chaos. “When would there even be time for tension? Between fighting curses and almost dying, there’s no room for—” You cut yourself off with a groan.

Miles, utterly unbothered, grinned wider. “I mean you’ve got to admit you three are pretty iconic. A girl stuck between two dudes who are both crazy loyal to her? People eat that stuff up. Ultimate poly ship.”

Your jaw dropped. “Poly—what?! We're friends! That’s all! No one’s stuck between anyone!”

Miles raises an eyebrow like he didn’t believe you for a second. “You can be friends and still have romantic tension. That’s like half of anime.”

You pressed your hands to your temples. “Love? No. No way. It’s not like that. It’s never been like that!”

Miles just leaned against his desk as he continue to watch your internal meltdown. “Man I wish I could take a picture of this reaction. You’re so in denial. The fandom would eat this up.”

You glared at him, pointing your staff in his direction. “Say one more thing and I’ll destroy your stupid laptop.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay okay. But seriously though...you’ve got a lot of fans rooting for you. It’s kind of cool don’t you think?”

You groaned at his words. “I can’t believe this.”

Slumping into the desk chair, your head bury into your hands. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Miles smirked. “Worse than being sucked into another dimension?”

“…Okay, second worst.”

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Sukuna "asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl" Ryomen

🎀minors and ageless blogs will be blocked 🎀

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Genre: Smut, dark hero.

Word Count: 1450

Warnings: first off, fucking sukuna himself is a warning on his own so let's just start there. Possessive Sukuna, dark sukuna, yakuza sukuna, shitty boss, mean fucking asshole boss, violence, against boss, dacryphillia, p in v sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, read at your own discretion.

Summary: Sukunas heard you cry because of your boss one too many times. He takes matters into his own hands

A/N: This absolutely SPECTACULAR ART is by @innaillus and you can find the original here.

I want to thank her, not only for allowing me to use this as a banner but also for making such amazing art and sharing it with us. ♥️

This is a purely self indulgent fic. If you don't like it, please don't read it. I had a shitty week and needed a place to cool off.

Sukuna Ryomen glared down at your boss. He’d come in to pick you up and heard the creature screaming at you for something he already knew wasn’t your fault. You’d told him about the trouble you were having with your co-workers who slacked off and your shitty fucker of a boss who for some reason didn’t tell them off, but instead unloaded his anger on you. This would be the last time this pathetic vermin made you cry, he vowed.

He pushed open the door to your small office and stalked in. You stood in the corner trying to make yourself as small as possible, silent tears streaming down your face as your boss kept berating you – not even noticing his presence. One of the other workers tried to step in his way but he shoved them aside like they were nothing more than window curtains. He placed himself in between you and the balding middle aged man who dared to call himself your boss. “Hey nimrod, she doesn’t work for you anymore. Don’t fucking yell at her.”

The man cowered. Sukuna was taller than him and his crossed arms made his thick muscles ripple under his skin.

“Ryo…” you whispered

“Wh-who let th-this man in here? Sir, th-this is an office space. You n-need to leave.” your boss sneered at your saviour.

Sukuna merely smirked at you and pulled you into his side placing his lips on the top of your head in a chaste kiss. “Yeah, don't worry, I’ll be going pretty soon. Breathing the same air as you is making me feel nauseated. Can't believe the patience my baby girl had with your shit-ass, fucker” his first met the man's stomach with a sickening squelching crunch, and your now ex-boss, crumpled onto the floor in a heap.

“I'm gon-gonna call the cops on you asshole’ he croaked out.

Sukuna just laughed. “Have at it, ya great ballsack.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Sukuna came to pick you up from work that day he had planned the night down to a T. He’d wanted to take you to a new movie that you'd been itching to see but hadn't had the time. He would follow that with a fancy sushi dinner at the city's best restaurant and then take you to the outskirts where there was a nice little viewpoint he had discovered where he planned on showing you the stars – in more than one way…

But when you didn't come out at your specified time, nor answer the cute message he’d sent you – Where you at, kitty-kat? – Sukuna decided to investigate and came across your asshole of a boss yelling at you. He’d had enough. You’d been coming home and complaining about him and even once returned in tears. It took everything he had to not rip the bastard’s throat out. But he was done with you being abused. You deserved better. Which is exactly what he told you now as you lay with him on the hood of his car.

The plans had been altered slightly, you would be watching the movie with him the next day. He’d skipped the fancy sushi and instead opted for your favourite comfort food – Chinese cuisine. Slurping down saucy noodles, and munching on crispy gyoza always made you feel better he knew and he found himself smiling at your joy. He’d then driven you to his secret viewpoint. You sat there on the hood of his car with him beside you. In the distance, the pretty lights of Tokyo lit up the horizon and reflected off your lover's red eyes. Above you, the stars twinkled in their own magic…

Something about you had him wrapped around your finger. One of the most feared yakuza, putty in your hands. Of course, no one knew the connection. It was all kept hushed for your convenience.

“Kitty-kat?” Sukuna called to you and you looked up at your man. “You know— you know I’m rich enough to support both of us easily right?”

You hummed. “Yes, but I don’t wanna be some dainty housewife, sitting and waiting for my husband to come home and serve him dinner Ryo! I have a whole ass degree that a lot of money was spent on, I’d like to use it babe!”

“Husband?”

“What?”

“You said, husband. Not boyfriend. Or SO. Or partner. You said husband.”

“Yeah… I said husband…”

“You wanna marry me?”

“I mean, yeah, eventually right?”

Sukuna crashed his lips into yours in a heated kiss; all teeth and tongue. He pulled your body close, pressing against you. “I want you so bad right now, future wife. I want you so fucking badly.” He half growled in your ear.

“You have me Ryo. I’m right here.” you replied. You tugged at Sukunas pants and he unbuckled his belt. Sukuna grinded against your thigh while kissing you. His hands tugged at the buttons on your blouse, undoing them as he went. You could feel the bulge growing in his jeans. He kissed down from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck down to the valley of your breasts.

“I wanna fuck you.” He looked at you with a lidded gaze “May I? I won’t be able to stop if we go further than this kitty-kat.”

You lifted your leg to rub against his clothed cock. “I’d leave you right now if you didn’t, Sukuna Ryomen. So fuck me already.” Sukuna flashed you a fanged smile and dipped his head pulling down your bra and freeing your breasts. He bit and licked and sucked, actions that were sure to leave marks on you. Further south his fingers pushed aside your panties and found entrance. He slowly worked his way into you, rubbing gentle circles in your skin. You allowed yourself to let go and dirty moans slipped out from your lips. Your fingers tangled in his pink hair – so soft, so smooth.

Once he had you dripping, he lay back down and ordered, “Sit on my face, and suck my cock while you’re at it.”

You followed, undoing his zipper and pulling his boxers and jeans off his semi-hard cock. You tentatively licked his head as you positioned your pussy right about his face. Sukuna pushed your skirt up and ripped your panties with a practised ease, pulling your hips down to his face. He loved having you like that. Every time he flicked his tongue against your clit your pussy would visibly tighten. You’d drool down the length of his cock hypnotised. Tongue flat against it as you struggled to maintain composure. It wouldn’t take long for him to make you cum all over his face for the first time. Legs quivering and hips shaking he brought you down again, laying you on the hood for him.

He lined up his cock – now rock hard from your mouth – with your entrance and sank into you. Slowly pushing his bulbous head, followed by his girthy length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Sukuna thrust up into you. Your lips were hot and burning. You felt a wave of emotion come through and tears welled up in your eyes.

“Fuck Ryo— feels s’good!”

Sukuna snarled and increased his pace. His eyes glinted dangerously. “Feels good, huh kitty-kat! Gonna make you mine. No man’s gonna dare fuck with you again.” His movements were rough and jagged but drew out the pleasure in your core. The tightly wound knot in your abdomen built up with each movement, each drawn out pull, each hard thrust. You arched your back desperate to have him more, more, more!

Your second climax hit just as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your cunt spasmed, clasping around him and you cried out his name in a debauched prayer.

Sukuna looked more composed than he felt. His cock throbbed inside you, attuned to the flutters of your pussy. Just because you’d come didn’t mean he would stop. He chased his own release inside of you pulling your hair back, devouring your lips. His cock bullied you to the point of overstimulation. Tears ran down your cheeks again but this time they were those of pleasure.

He came, towering over you, eyes squeezed shut, head buried in the crook of your neck. His giant frame collapsed onto you and he carefully rolled off to the side so he wouldn't crush you.

“So, about that husband thing…”

You turned to look at him, blushing. “Ryo…”

He held up a ring; the ring his father left him. Gold work, carved into a dragon that held a shiny black pearl in its claws.

“I’ll get you a prettier one later, I promise but for now…” he took a deep breath. “Marry me, kitty-kat?”

A/N: please note this was a very hurried creation and edit, if you do find any errors or typos feel free to point them out KINDLY. Thank you for reading.

As always likes and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will earn you kissies!

[ushijimaschubbs]

no thoughts just geto between your thighs in a restaurant bathroom stall because he couldn't wait to taste your pretty cunt with his slobbering mouth, lapping continuously and edging you because he doesn't want to stop eating you out while he also teases you because of how rapidly your pussy is throbbing against his tongue.

[sophiria]

JJK x reader Tumblr recommendations

[18+ only]

❤️🖤🤍

postmortem / postpartum by @/umemiyan (gojo)

gojo crawls home to you by @/izvmimi (gojo) the machinist and the faerie by @/wri0thesley (gojo) angel gojo by @/izvmimi (gojo) holy fool by @/tearzintheclub (gojo)

canon gojo will... by @/prettyboykatsuki (gojo)

soul tied by @/its-luna-noel (gojo)

worship of a sacrificial lamb by @/yandere-daydreams (gojo)

satoru gojo knows he's not wanted by @/elsecrytt (gojo)

don't make me feel alive by @/lilacxquartz (kenjaku)

all my love, suguru by @/chosos-mascara (geto)

metamorphoses by @/bontenten (naoya)

of cruelty and clemency by @/tawus (geto)

how we break by @/tojisun (toji, gojo)

bewitched by @/lalunanymph (naoya)

ave maria by @/lovenona (nanami)

someone wants to cut a hole in you and fuck you through it, buddy by @/strawberrystepmom (kenjaku, geto)

❤️🖤🤍

[difficultdomains]

a/n: satoru! with! long! hair! - that’s it, that’s the post

mdni - nsfw under the cut

long hair but not the way suguru’s hair is long.

long hair as in it’s been a while since he had a moment to himself, let alone time for a haircut. so when he returns home to you after yet another long mission, his hair is falling into his face and over his eyes, almost hiding them completely from view.

“looks strange, right?” is the only thing he says with a grin when he sees you standing at the door, eyes wide.

he prefers his usual look, the undercut, the controlled unruliness. but you? even though you think you’re being sneaky, he notices.

those quick little glances through the fogged up mirror when you catch him fresh out of the shower. it’s not the towel sitting way too low on his hips that has your gaze lingering longer than usual - it’s the semi-dried white chaos on top of his head that’s making you want to follow every drop that drips from his ends and trace it down his skin. the time you usually take to brush your teeth suspiciously doubles.

or later that same night, when he rests his head in your lap only for your hands to absentmindedly tangle in his hair. with your attention captured by the movie you had chosen together, your fingers fall into a rhythm of their own, twirling lock after lock around your index finger, over and over again, like a mantra. he would love to let you lull him to sleep with your steady, repetitive motions, let himself drift off under your touch right where he is - but he wants more.

he wants you to forget all about your movie when he pulls you onto his lap, hips between your thighs and arms wrapped around your waist, tightly, until your chest is completely flush with his. unknowingly you reveal what's on your mind once again, breath lodging in his throat when all the tenderness in the world concentrates in your fingertips, pushing back his bangs and running through his hair all the way until you arrive at the nape of his neck. your nails meet sensitive skin, and he shivers, electricity trickling down his spine. you search for his eyes, only to find him already watching you with overcast skies, longing pressing down on his lungs like humidity. you mirror him, your gaze stifling when it drops down to his lips and all at once the brewing summer storm in his irises unleashes, lightning cracking when he finally gets to kiss you, soft and scorching at the same time.

what he wants even more though, is to look up at your flushed cheeks and the reddish bruise threatening to form on your neck before he dips down between your thighs, drinking in the gasp that falls from your lips when his own connect with your most sensitive spot. your breathing quickens, air sticking to your airways as he coaxes only the sweetest sounds out of you with every flick of his tongue. you push him closer, white locks spilling out from between your fingers - but he still needs more. you miss the near-devious look from under his heavy eyelashes as he abandons his firm hold on your hips and trails up your thigh, only to travel down again until he’s right in between. a broken moan slips from your mouth when he slides his fingers in with one smooth motion, your hand coming up to stifle it and prevent the sound from bouncing off the walls of your living room. you grab onto the loose collar of your shirt, bracing yourself for what you know is about to come - but he moves agonizingly slow, slowing down all of his motions until you're reduced to a rubber band pulled taut by impatience.

his name mixes with an exasperated groan on your tongue, head falling to the side onto the backrest of the couch.

“what’s wrong, love?” he purrs, looking up at you and halting his movements altogether.

the furrows between your brows deepen when he gifts you an angelic smile.

“tell me what you want.”

you reach out, gripping his hair again, the tenderness from before replaced by intention.

“do it properly.”

his eyes glaze over at the pleading tone you mutter your command in. he almost has you exactly where he wants you. just one more push-

“you sure you can handle it, baby?”

he watches it snap in your eyes, your refusal to play along evident in the way you use your newfound leverage to push him back between your legs, right where you want him the most.

without granting you a single breath more, he suppresses a triumphant grin and his lips reattach, fingers slipping back in to curl right against your spot with absolute precision. sudden sweet pressure has your back arching up into him and your fingers pulling on his hair, hard, tearing a moan from him that immediately intertwines with yours.

maybe he‘ll consider postponing that haircut - just for a little while longer.

this is what i have in mind if you need a visual for the hair LMFAO

[satorusugurugurl]

JJK Men: Your Costume!

Summary: JJK Men find your Halloween Costume a bit distracting. 😏

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Suguru Geto, Fushiguro Toji,

Warnings: Language, suggestiveness, kind smutty, sexting, costumes, role play, (little religion mentions stuff idk)

A/N: Kinktober Day Twenty-Three! Your Costume?! A SMAU for Kinktober! 🎃

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918 @draculemon

SMAU Tag List:

@sad-darksoul

[idkmanimreallysleepy]

NANAMI BAE GET OUT OF HERE AND COME BACK HOME THE KIDS MISS YOU. COME BACK.

[togenabi]

my home is where your heart is

inumaki toge x reader

♡—your things keep winding up in toge's place, and his things in yours. what are you going to do about it?

word count♡— 1k

genre♡— fluff. pure fluff

content notes♡— blushy toge, established relationship, moving in together, dancing in the kitchen in the refrigerator light vibes, megumi gives advice

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is an overdue request! anon, if you see this I'm sorry this took me a while! I kept it short, but did not hold back on the fluff. please enjoy!

“Toge,” You call for your boyfriend, who is currently sprawled over your couch. “Have you seen my charger?”

Toge looks up from his phone, pausing for a moment to think. After briefly looking confused, he lights up and lifts his hands to sign, ‘I think you left it at my place.’

“Ah,” Not again. Must this always happen? “Remind me to get it back next time we’re there.”

He nods and gets up, gesturing for you to hand over your phone. Toge moves to charge it with his own charger.

“Thanks.” You kiss his cheek, relishing the way he blushes. Flustered, it takes him more than one try to plug the charger into the wall socket. You can’t help but shake your head at him. He’s just too cute sometimes.

About the case of things going missing, however, it happens to Toge too.

You were cleaning up your apartment when it suddenly started raining. Thoughts of Toge in the rain immediately caused you to worry, but you managed to calm down somewhat. He should be fine since he has an umbrella.

Only, he doesn’t. You stare at the compact, foldable umbrella in horror. It’s positioned beside yours at your apartment’s entryway.

Toge, completely drenched, arrives at your place an hour or so after that. Luckily, you anticipated as much, and already had a change of clothes, towels, and warm food ready for him.

He gives you a kiss on the cheek this time, walking backwards into the bathroom, forming a heart with his hands and a goofy smile glowing on his face.

The more time you and Toge spent in each other’s places, the more your things seemed to shuffle about. Your book on his desk. His jacket in your closet. An accessory of yours on his bedside table. That snack he bought is somewhere in your cupboard. It was getting confusing, how your lives were getting tangled up in two separate places.

“The solution is obvious, isn’t it?” Megumi asks one night when you bumped into him at a convenience store. “Move in with him.”

“Oh.” Speechless, you can only blink at him in response. “We’ve never really talked about that.”

Megumi shrugs, “Sounds like that talk’s overdue, if you ask me.”

And maybe it is, because you’re seriously considering it when you can’t find a single pen in your apartment. Why do ballpens vanish when you need them, and why are there so many of them when you don’t?

But of course, you find your favorite ballpen in a mug Toge had turned into a pen holder, sitting with his other pens and markers.

You must have been staring at the pen—at his desk—for quite some time. It makes Toge look at you with concern in his eyes.

“Takana?” He asks, checking on you while resting a hand on your arm.

Snapping out of it, you try to gather your courage to bring up living together. There’s no reason for him to say no, right? And you’d be fine whichever place he chooses. Or maybe, you could meet in the middle and  look for somewhere new?

The thought of apartment hunting with Toge strangely sends butterflies in your stomach. But before you get ahead of yourself, you have to properly ask him about it first.

“What do you think about living together?” You blurt out, and your heartbeat feels rapid and unsteady. Suddenly, it feels like you’re confessing to him all over again.

Toge breathes out a laugh, pulling you into his arms. Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he accepts. “Shake.” 

“Really?” Stunned that it was that easy, it takes you a second before you return his embrace. “Where should we go?”

He pulls back to kiss the tip of your nose cutely. Smiling, he motions to sign, ‘Wherever you want! I’ll follow you anywhere.’

It takes several weeks of planning and headaches, but you and Toge manage to find a new home. It’s close by, still in the same neighborhood that you’re used to. You didn’t want to move too far from this community and your loved ones. 

Other than that, your main goal was to find a place with more space than either of your previous residences. You wanted to organize storage properly. Contrary to your expectations and true to his word, Toge wasn’t picky at all. He was just happy to always be close to you.

As you were unpacking food and supplies in the kitchen, you looked over at your boyfriend. He was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, configuring the wifi. 

“Toge, should we have food delivered? Or would you like to cook in the new kitchen?”

Mouthing, he responds, ‘Cook.’

You gasp, delighted he chose so. “Okay! Let me know if I can help you.”

He quickly fiddles with the wifi router before waving at you to come over. You laugh, “I meant I’d help with the cooking, but sure.”

Toge gets up, taking one of your hands in his. He presses something on his phone before reaching for the other.

The expression on his face is playful and sweet as he places your hands behind his neck; your fingertips brush against the ends of his hair. Music starts playing the moment he holds onto your waist. 

It’s strange, nothing has changed about the room. You’re still surrounded by countless unpacked boxes from the move, and yet the apartment has never felt so vibrant. 

Is it the music? The song he played fills the space and bounces back from every corner, breathing life into your new home.

It could also be the way he dances with you, making you feel like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. No other’s company you’d rather have.

Or, it must be all of that and how he looks at you while he mouths, ‘I love you.’ Because you love him too.

A few days later, while out on a date, Toge asks if you’ve seen his charger.

You hum in thought. “Did you leave it at home?”

Amused, he looks at you funny before pointing to your heart. ‘Is it in there, then?’

“I don’t understand.” You admit, waiting for him to elaborate.

‘My home is where your heart is.’

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

taglist: @flowerjun @songsofadelaide-archive @mellozhi @luccaaedd @ihaveanexistentialcrisis @starszns @msmisasoup @appalost @akakaze @isentsworld @hellyyy06 @lownna

[sonotpattismith]

I'll Never Cross The Line. (ryomen sukuna x reader)

don't touch, I'll never cross the line, so I pushed you down a million times / if I don't try, then it's my loss- an inch away from more than just friends. word count: 11.2k (SORRY) warnings: bartender!sukuna au, suggestive content, 18+ a/n: This wasn't a request, just an idea I had inspired by Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan. I HIGHLY recommend listening to it to set the vibes. 😮‍💨

You know, maybe retail wouldn’t be the worst option. Sure, you would definitely make significantly less without the steady stream of tips, but surely it would be better than dealing with drunken groups of men every weekend, right? You’ll grow a backbone-- you’ll tell them to quit being assholes. Of course, that was about fifty tables ago, and you knew you would never have the nerve to stand up for yourself, much less piss off a table bad enough to leave you a shitty tip. So, you forced a smile and said ‘of course, I’ll have the bar remake this for you’, and, no, you wouldn’t say anything about the disgusting little nickname that continued to roll off their tongues at you. 

Gulping back the bile that rose in your throat at the feeling of their eyes on your ass as you walked away, you begrudgingly made your way to the bar. It had been almost a year since you had quit your cashier job in favor of something that could make you a little more money. It’s not that you hated your job, but you did wish you had a little more courage to stand up for yourself in instances like these that seemed to happen more and more as your hostess experience grew. In addition to having to suck up their complaints with your non-confrontational, fake smile, it didn’t help that the new bartender that was hired a few weeks back was even more terrifying than the belligerent men you were exchanging drinks for. 

Sukuna, you recalled another hostess saying his name was, never really did anything to warrant such fear from you, or any of the other staff for that matter, but his aura was definitely no sunshines and roses. He stood at a staggering height as he maneuvered nonchalantly behind the bar, intimidatingly bulking muscles flexing under his typical black t-shirt as he shook a drink over his shoulder. His face was littered in mysteriously intricate black tattoos that were complimented by the black studs in his ears. The man was fairly quiet, save for the rare occassions you’d hear his booming laughter echo throughout the dimly lit restaurant when chatting up a customer. Other than the rare small talk with some random customers that happened to catch his interest, Sukuna kept to himself. 

So, realistically, you shouldn’t be so scared to ask him to kindly remake these old fashions so that your table would stop bitching to you about how ‘watered down’ they were. Still, as his brooding figure grew closer and closer, you couldn’t stop the pounding in your chest. Shaky hands placed the three glasses onto the bar before him. His seemingly bored eyes looked down at the full glasses before darting back up to you with a raised brow. As if the dude couldn’t get more intimidating, you now noted with how close he was that his eyes were almost a deep ruby color. Who the fuck has red eyes? 

It was a moment of silent staring at one another before he noted you were too scared to open your mouth and spit out whatever the problem was. Sukuna was used to the timid looks by now. As far as he was concerned, it came with the tatted up, quiet, and large territory. Most of the hosts and hostesses seemed to want to keep their distance from him, but he never took it personally. 

“Problem with the drinks?” 

“Um.. well, I’m sure you made them fine, but…” You chewed on your bottom lip apprehensively, trying to figure out how to not make it sound like you didn’t think he knew how to do his job. His marked up face remained neutral, towel drying a glass in the meantime as he awaited your explanation. You glanced over your shoulder to the offending table, cursing under your breath when you noted they were looking back at you and whispering to each other as if asking ‘what the fuck the hold up was for’. Quickly turning to face Sukuna again, you were unsure which party you were more intimidated by. He had followed your gaze already though, regarding the group of men with an unimpressed expression. Opening your mouth to explain before you pissed either off even more, the bartender cut you off. 

“Those assholes giving you a hard time?”

Your mouth hung open like a fish for a moment, and a glimmer of hope sparked in you. Closing your mouth, you grasped the edge of the bar and desperately leaned closer to him. 

“Yes, they’re total creeps, and they keep saying that you watered down their drinks, and I know you probably didn’t, but they’ve been bitching at me for like ten minutes. So if you could please just remake them, I would forever be in your debt.”

Sukuna stared down at you throughout your desperate, breathless explanation, and you could swear you saw just a glimmer of amusement behind those intense eyes. Without a word, he brought one of the abandoned glasses up to his lips to try it. Licking his lips boredly, he shook his head. 

“Doesn’t taste watered down to me. Does it taste watered down to you?” In an instant, he was holding the drink up to your lips. Already flustered at the predicament you were in, you hesitantly took a small sip, cringing as the bitter liquid hit your tongue. The man before you hummed in question, setting the glass back down between you. 

“Uh… I don’t really drink anything that doesn’t come with a little umbrella in it. So, maybe I’m not the best person to judge?”

A small, amused smile graced his lips, and, in just that second, the new bartender appeared far less intimidating than you previously believed him to be. Shaking his head, he grabbed the glasses and emptied them into the drains, moving to begin remaking the drinks. Usually, he would have sent the drinks right back to the table with a scoff, but it wasn’t too busy at the moment, what with everyone’s eyes glued to the game playing on the screen above him, and he had a feeling you would combust on the spot if you had to return the same, unaltered drinked to the group of degenerates that had been oogling you since you walked up to his bar. 

“I’ll remake ‘em, but do something for me, will ya?” 

You leaned forward, watching the muscles beneath his tight shirt flex with each calculated movement he made. In your head, you were practically floating through air knowing you were dodging the bitch-out you had been positive he was going to give you about bothering him with such a thing. You glanced up at him in question as he began pouring the mixed drink into the three, clean glasses he had set in front of you. 

“Tell ‘em if they don’t stop acting like a bunch of lowlives, you’ll spit in the damn drinks next time.” 

Your eyes widened at his proposal. His brow quirked up in challenge as he pushed the drinks forward. Nodding his chin toward the table, he urged you on. 

“Go on, I wanna see their faces.” 

“I-I can’t say that, Sukuna…” You refused, shaking your head with a nervous chuckle.

“Why not? You the type that lets assholes walk all over you?”

“Well,” You blushed furiously in embarrassment, wishing you could defend yourself against his accusations. He was right though; you should grow more of a backbone. The other hostesses, while they knew how to pick their battles, seemed to have no problem putting their foot down to disrespectful customers like these. You had been like that for as long as you could remember, not speaking up unless spoken to, and certainly not speaking up when you were being spoken against. “No, but I’m the type that at least wants a good tip if I’ve had to put up with borderline harassment for two hours.”

As if on cue, your table hollered at you with a low whistle to question what was taking you so long. Grasping the glasses between your fingers, his large hand quickly stopped you, taking the drinks from you. Your eyes widened in horror as he moved to step out from behind the bar, nodding to a customer that he’d be with them in a minute. From outside his usual post, the large man appeared that much taller as you came face to face with his broad chest. 

“I’ll do it then.” 

If there was one thing Sukuna couldn’t stand-- it was weak people. Even more so, the people that were so weak they prayed on the smaller people, the kind that were too nice to do anything about it. Sure, it pissed him off that you wouldn’t stand up for yourself, but that was a problem for another time. At the present, there was a table of three drunk men calling the nice, sparkly eyed young waitress over like a dog. Not only that, they had already pissed him off by making him redo the perfectly fine drinks he’d finished not even five minutes ago. 

He felt a pair of small hands grasp desperately at his bicep as he moved to deliver the fresh set of drinks. For a moment, you felt intimidated once again as he glared down at you. Without a word, you quickly released him, deciding the dock in your tip was a better fate than whatever was lurking behind that terrifying glare. Chewing anxiously at your fingernails, you watched with bated breath as Sukuna approached the table, slamming the drinks down in front of them. You almost wished you could hear what he was saying to them-- what with the way their faces morphed before the six-foot something beast standing threateningly in front of them. If you weren’t so fucking anxious, you would have laughed. 

Before you knew it, he was making his way back behind the bar with that nonchalant expression back on his face. You stared incredulously up at him in question. 

“Well?”

“Don’t worry, doll. They’re gonna be real nice to you the rest of the night.”

And they were. You weren’t sure what the bartender said to them, or threatened them with, but they were saying please, thank you, and calling you ma’am the rest of the night. Hell, they’d even still left you a decent tip. For the weeks that followed, you regarded the bartender a bit more comfortably-- greeting him with an appreciative smile each time he came in, making sure to wave goodbye to him on the nights you clocked out before him. He was still quiet and reserved, but would engage in the occasional small talk with you when you’d bounce over to him with a bar order. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks after that incident that you found yourself actually requesting his… services again. There had been a few instances when you considered getting the big, scary bartender to come set your table straight for you, but the last thing you wanted to do was annoy him when he was busy enough as it was. This night though, the family before you damn near had you in tears by the time they were done with you. It started with an incorrect substitution, which, okay yeah, that fuck up was on you, but you apologized profusely and even offered to comp the entree for them. It all only went downhill after that though, and you had already been called incompetent, useless, and bimbo all in the span of an hour. 

So, as you tentatively approached the bar that didn’t seem all too busy at the moment, you just felt like that much more of an idiot. Sukuna was speaking casually with a customer as he screwed off the top of a fresh beer bottle and handed it to him. He leaned against the counter, too engrossed in his conversation to notice the timid waitress anxiously awaiting him to finish talking. His ruby eyes drifted absentmindedly to where you were standing, doing a double take when he saw your flushed cheeks and wringing hands. 

As he excused himself from the conversation and walked toward you, you silently set an already half-drank piña colada on the counter. He regarded it with a scoff, nodded up at you in question. 

“What’s with the face? You look like someone killed your puppy.”

“Table three says that you made this a virgin.” 

“And they only noticed after drinking damn near the entire thing? I can smell the rum from here. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

You glanced up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, praying he’d get the hint and go straighten them out for you so you didn’t have to deal with it the rest of the night. Catching on to your puppy-dog eyes, he quickly shook his head, pushing the drink toward you. 

“Uh-uh,” He refused, and your shoulders dropped in disappointment. “I ain’t always gonna be here. You gotta grow a pair, doll.” 

For a moment, you thought he was completely brushing you off when he walked back over to the wall of liquor behind him. After snatching a low level, glass bottle off the shelf along with a shot glass, he made his way back over to you and filled the tiny cup. He shoved it forward and jutted his chin at you. You stared incredulously at him. 

“Go on, take it.” Sukuna urged, resting his elbows on the counter and leaning closer to you. His ruby eyes stared at you with an intensity that was almost making you forget how shitty that table was making your night. “Drink that, then I want you to waltz your pretty ass back over to those degenerates and tell them if they wanted a double then they should have asked you for one before you rung it up.” 

“B-But… they--” You stumbled over your words, not anticipating this turn of events. Hell, you figured he would just have to glare over at them and that would scare them enough to stop fucking with you for the night. His brows rose challengingly at you. 

“I ain’t makin’ anymore of your drinks till you do it.” 

When you continued gaping at him apprehensively, he picked up the shot glass with one hand and grasped your chin with the other. A furious blush spread across your cheeks as you tipped your head back in tandem with his fingers’ urging push. The bitter liquid ran down your throat, burning all the way down to your stomach. You sputtered pathetically as he released his grip on your chin and placed the forgotten piña colada back in your hand with a devilish, yet encouraging smile. Nodding dumbly as you wiped the remaining alcohol from your chin, you turned back around to head toward the table, your fingers trembling with each step. 

Sukuna felt his chest swell with pride as he watched the family’s face contort in shock at the timid waitress finally standing her ground. Cackling shortly in amusement, he shook his head and moved to clean your leftover shotglass.

You were absolutely buzzing as you walked cooly away from the stunned table, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the shot Sukuna had practically forced down your throat, or the thrill of having actually stuck up for yourself for once. With an excited beam, you bounced back over to the bar as soon as you had finished checking up on your other tables. Your smile slowly faded upon seeing that the man you were looking for wasn’t there. 

“Hey, where’s Sukuna?” You asked your coworker who had seemingly taken over as bartender for the time being. He appeared slightly flustered trying to figure out the mixes of certain drinks. Glancing up at you absentmindedly, he nodded toward the back, muttering something about a smoke break. Without thought, you made your way through the kitchen and out the back door. 

The man in question was leaning against the brick wall, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he typed out a message on his phone. You suddenly wondered if you were bothering him by coming out here during his break. It was too late though, and he was already looking up from his phone at the sound of the door opening. Timidly, you slid out from the crack of the door, attempting to find that excitement that had led you out here in the first place. 

“Well?” He questioned, removing the cigarette from his lips and puffing a cloud of smoke out the side of his mouth. You watched as he slid his phone into his back pocket and easily pushed himself off the wall to approach you. Something about his sudden, undivided attention made you forget your shy nature all together, that eager smile lighting up your face once again. 

“You should’ve seen their faces!” You giggled energetically up at the man who somehow looked even scarier under the dim lighting of the back alley. 

“I did see ‘em. I told you, assholes like that only shit on you so much cause you let ‘em.” Sukuna smiled amusedly at the excitement clearly ripping through you, ruffling a hand through your hair. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” You mused, fixing your now frazzled hair before sighing and leaning back against the wall. “I’m definitely not getting a tip though.”

The man beside you scoffed before flicking his cigarette to the ground, smushing it carelessly under his heavy, black boot. 

“What are you so damn worked up over your tips for anyway?” He questioned with an annoyed expression, recalling that being the excuse the last time you refused to confront your less-than respectful table.

You looked down at the ash left behind under his boot, shrugging nonchalantly before glancing back up at him with a shy smile. 

“Oh, I’m saving up the tuition for a program I really wanna get into.” You explained, light pink dusting your cheeks. He hummed gravely beside you, regarding you silently. “Almost there, too. The sooner the better, y’know?”

It had been silent for a beat too long, and you were suddenly very aware of his intense, unwavering gaze on you. His head leaned against the brick wall as he stared down at you thoughtfully. Your head span a bit under the pressure, seemingly trapped within his shadow. 

“What about you?” You squeaked out, desperate to break the unexplainable tension that had risen between you. He quirked a brow at you. “Y’know, why are you working here?”

You sighed in relief when his eyes drifted to the side pensively. It was almost impossible to think clearly with those intoxicating ruby eyes bearing into your soul as if he meant to rip it out and eat it. 

“Told my brat nephew I’d stay outta trouble if he got into college.” Sukuna explained, casting a sidelong glance your way as he crossed his bulky arms over his chest. As you watched him now, you noted that the designs that defined his face and arms were also poking out the neckline of his shirt, and you wondered if he was completely covered in them. A small smirk tugged at his lips upon noticing your stare, but he didn’t mention it. “He’s a smart kid. Helluva’ lot smarter than I ever was, anyway.”

Warmth spread in your chest at the way he spoke so fondly of his nephew, even if it was in his own, guarded way. It made you want to learn more about him. The longer you spoke to him, the more you realized all those assumptions you’d held about him were quite possibly completely false. Maybe it was guilt that had you digging for more-- at least that’s what you would tell yourself. 

“What kind of trouble were you getting yourself into, Sukuna?” You pressed teasingly, but the dark, guarded smile that fell upon his lips told you that you probably shouldn’t have asked. Leaning down till his face was a mere centimeters away from yours, he tutted. 

“You don’t really wanna know the answer to that, doll.” He whispered challengingly at you, revelling in the way your cheeks lit up under his gaze. It wasn’t very nice of him, he knew that; you were that shy, bubbly type that never had a chip on your shoulder-- the kind that you couldn’t really joke around with cause you were too gullible to tell the difference. Sukuna just couldn’t help himself though, he found himself wanting to test you, to break you out of that shell. His eyes dropped to your lips, the ones that were currently being abused between your anxious teeth. Reaching up to cup your chin, his thumb gently pulled the irritated, plump skin to safety. 

“I have a boyfriend.” You quickly stammered out, heart pounding against your chest. In the back of your mind, you knew you probably should have said something earlier, but there was just something so alluring about the mysterious aura that shrouded him. 

He paused, an amused smile lighting up his face once again as he allowed his hand to drop from your chin as he backed up a respectable amount. 

“‘Course ya’ do.” He laughed lightheartedly, running a hand through his pink hair that had become tousled with the wind. “Shoulda’ started with that. I wouldn’t have been so damn nice to ya’.”

A surprised expression struck your face, words getting stuck in your throat. 

“C’mon, I’m just fucking with ya’.” He laughed again, shoving gently at your shoulder as he began walking back toward the door of the kitchen. Slowly, you began laughing too. He was sending you on a rollercoaster of emotions you could barely keep up with, but he did it so effortlessly it was as if it was second nature to him. “Geez, you were gonna let me get away with that one too, huh? Hope you don’t let your little boyfriend walk all over you like that.” 

Despite the teasing undertones in his voice, he was seriously thinking about what you’d allow from a partner if you let him and all the lowlife customers throw you around like a ragdoll without complaint. Looking down at your shoes, you let that comment slide with a shake of your head. Quickly trying to collect your thoughts, you followed him as he opened the door for you. 

“So, you’re trying to stay out of trouble.” You recounted, desperately trying to change the subject. He hummed in acknowledgement as he made his way back behind the bar, nodding to your coworker who appeared eternally grateful to put down the drink he was making and allowing Sukuna to take over. “Why bartending then?”

“Why? Think I could’ve made it in insurance?” He quipped with a knowing smirk, watching you shrink down, not wanting to answer his question for fear of offending him. The man shook his head, placing the now finished drink down on a napkin for the customer beside you. “No mornings, decent pay. Probably easier than whatever the hell they got you doing.”

You hummed in thought, watching him expertly pour a round of shots to place on one of the host’s awaiting trays. Sighing tiredly, you looked around at your tables, noting you’ve probably already been away for too long. Brushing the hair from your face, you grabbed your notepad from your apron to get back to work. 

“You should let me train you back here.” Sukuna suddenly suggested, not looking away from his concentrated mixing to see your shocked expression. “Don’t gotta be running around all day, rack up helluva’ lot more tips too, ‘specially with a face like yours. Have the money for your school crap in no time.”

You blinked up at him when he finally turned to face you. 

“The boss probably wants more help on the floor.” You explained dejectedly, despite the hope still hidden in your tone at the prospect. 

Sukuna tutted dismissively with a roll of his eyes.

“I’ll talk to ‘em. Asshole’s scared of me anyway.”

He wasn’t sure why he was doing so much for you. After all, when he had fulfilled his end of his promise to Yuji and gotten himself a real job, he said he’d keep to himself. People pissed him off too much, and they usually had a bad impression of him anyway upon first meeting. It was easier, and less obnoxious, for him to allow their imaginations to run wild about what could be lurking under that quiet, brooding persona of his. Maybe it was that beam of sunshine personality that reminded him so much of his damn nephew, or maybe it was that ambition to keep on getting bitched at everyday just so you could make it through school. It was admirable, that type of determination. 

Either way, the excited expression that washed over your face softened his hard-ass heart just a little. So, when you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck from across the counter, he let you, hoping damn well he knew what he was getting himself into. 

For the coming weeks, you came in an extra shift each week to train with Sukuna behind the bar. He taught you the basic drinks all bartenders should know, the various terms that would likely be tossed your way that you’d be expected to recognize, the sanitary procedures. Surprisingly, the monstrous looking man was actually quite patient with you when you made seemingly stupid mistakes. Sure, he’d tease you endlessly over the time you asked him what kind of alcohol went into a shirley temple, but he certainly didn’t get pissed off as easily as you thought he would. 

Even on your regular floor shifts, you found yourself gravitating toward the bar during your downtime under the guise of watching what he was doing. Truthfully though, you had become a bit attached to the way the brooding giant was clearly warming up to you. Despite his previous insistence on you learning to hold your own against bitchy customers, he was always the first to swoop in when a drunken customer’s voice got a little too loud for his liking. Sukuna made you drinks without your having to ask (non-alcoholic on shift, of course, though you wouldn’t be surprised if he snuck a shot or two into a couple of them after a particularly grueling shift). 

You attempted to press further about whatever the hell it was that he was doing before becoming a bartender, but he was always quick to dismiss the question with a guarded joke or roll of his ruby eyes. While you were kind enough to change the subject each time, there were certain times when he seriously made you wonder about his past life. Today, for example, when you were working the floor and came to drop off an order with him with your usual, peppy smile. 

“What’s with the pigtails? You in fucking grade school or something?” Sukuna questioned with a scoff, flicking one of the strands between his fingers. You grinned shyly, twirling your hair with sudden apprehension. 

“No, they’re…” That typical red hue flooded your cheeks again, and he was beginning to find the color synonymous with you in his mind. He raised a questioned brow at you, and you looked down at the counter. “They’re supposed to get you more tips, y’know?”

Something about that prospect unsettled something deep within the pits of his stomach. Not hiding the way his top lip twitched up in disgust, he glanced down at the ticket you handed him before getting to work. 

“And is it working?” 

“So far, so good, captain!” You beamed with a mock salute, bending over the counter to whisper your night’s total thus far into his ear. He whistled lowly, shaking his head in disbelief. His lips parted to make a snide remark about the kinds of creeps that frequented this restaurant, but he was cut off when one of the aforementioned creeps hollered out to you something alluding to your captain comment from earlier. Sukuna couldn’t hear it though-- not over the sound of the distinct smack of the man’s hand on your ass. You quickly straightened your posture, cursing yourself for remaining bent over in such a way to invite such unwanted behavior. 

Before you could turn your head to face the offender though, Sukuna’s intimidatingly large form was hopping over the bar with an ease you would have assumed impossible for someone so bulky. You yelped out in surprise when you were pushed back, watching in horror as the bartender grasped onto the back of the man’s shirt with vigor and dragged him out the front door. 

“Sukuna--”

“Stay here.” 

You had no choice but to comply with his barked order, because in an instant, a crowd had formed around the door to watch the incident with bated breath. Part of you wanted to push through the crowd to either see what the hell he was doing to the man, or to attempt to stop him before he got himself into trouble. A larger part of you, like most of the time when it came to this infuriatingly guarded man, wondered if you really even wanted to know. There wasn’t much time for you to ponder on this decision though, because just a short two minutes later, he was bursting through the front doors once again, shooing everyone back to their tables in aggravation. 

Without so much as a word, he walked back behind the bar and took a shocked customer’s order. You awaited as he finished the interaction, staring at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. As if sensing he could no longer ignore you, he looked back up at you nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just leaped over the very counter he was standing behind like a bat out of hell. 

“Asshole said he’s sorry, by the way.” Sukuna huffed out, clearing a few empty glasses from the bar. Looking down at his hands as he quietly gathered up cups, you noticed his red, split knuckles. 

“Sukuna…” You began, but you weren’t sure where it was going. One part of you was touched that he would stand up for you in such a way without hesitation. While you would have preferred he hadn’t gone to such… extreme measures though, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t found the whole thing, after the fact, extremely attractive. You shook your head quickly, dismissing those thoughts from your wandering mind. You were in a relationship, after all. In the midst of all the excitement though, you were beginning to draw your own, new, more informed conclusions about the bartender. “What was it that you said you did before this?”

He made you wait until he was on another smoke break to explain himself to you. You both sat, squatted on the ground of that back alley as he blew his smoke away from you, looking up at the flickering, fluorescent light above you two. 

“You… you were a hitman?” 

“C’mon, now you’re giving me too much credit, doll.” 

Your mind whirled with this new information, but, to be fair, you had already come to a similar conclusion just an hour prior when you watched him drag a full grown man out of the restaurant with ease. Chuckling half-heartedly at your wide eyed expression, he continued with a sigh. 

“I got paid to scare some dudes off. Didn’t kill nobody. Just… roughed ‘em up a little, y’know? Debt collectors, landlords, weirdo boyfriends. Paid good. Got Yuji through school.”

“Yuji?” You questioned, peering up at him curiously. Suddenly recalling your previous conversation about his reasons for being here, you continued. “Your nephew, right?”

He nodded firmly, a fond smile on his face. 

“His folks didn’t have the money to send him to college. I didn’t want him to end up like me. So… whatever paid the bills, know what I’m saying, doll?” His eyes shifted to peer at you with a sidelong glance. Even without direct contact, his eyes sent shivers down your spine. 

You nodded softly, a small smile gracing your own lips. 

“You're kind of a badass uncle, Sukuna.” You teased, playfully bumping your shoulder into his. His boisterous laughter bounced off the walls of the dark alley before he shook his head dismissively. “Pretty cool if you ask me.”

“What? Your man boring or something?”

For a moment, your mind short-curcuited again in the way Sukuna was so good at doing. You pondered his question for a moment, shyly looking down at your feet. 

“I mean, he’s no ass-beating vigilante if that’s what you’re wondering.” This made the man beside you chuckle at your perception of his past occupation. 

“How long ‘ya been together?”

“Seven years.” 

A low whistle echoed in your ears, and Sukuna snatched your left hand from its place on your knee to inspect your fingers. 

“No ring?” He scoffed, setting your hand back down with a smirk. “You seem like the type.” The joking nature in his tone helped to disguise the fact that he felt someone had just taken a knife to his testicles. When you told him you had a boyfriend, he figured it was a short thing, something that would pass eventually, and maybe he’d get a chance to swoop in soon. Seven years though? He was starting to feel as though he may have been holding out hope for nothing. 

“He’s finishing school first.” You defended deftly.

“Yeah? What’s he gettin’ his degree in? How to fumble 101?” 

You couldn’t even try to suppress the amused smile that fought its way onto your lips. The truth was, your relationship hadn’t been the same for a while now, and, by a while, you meant a few years. The two of you had been highschool sweethearts. So, when you graduated, it almost just seemed right to continue the still budding relationship. It was fairly textbook, graduating together, moving into your first, modest apartment with one another, but things quickly became very routine. 

It’s not that he was a bad guy per say, but sometimes you felt as though you were the only one trying to keep that spark alive. Granted, he was a busy man, what with his graduate program and internship taking up most of his time, but even on his free days, he was often either holed up in front of his computer or with his friends. The stress of all his responsibilities had definitely been catching up to him. When you tried to confront him about the way you barely even felt like friends anymore, let alone lovers, he was far too irritable to hold a conversation with about it. 

Sukuna watched you get lost in thought, and he wondered if he’d crossed a line. Throwing on a casual smile, he bumped your shoulder as you had just done to him. 

“Hey, all I’m sayin’ is if you get tired of waitin’, I’m next in line, ya’ hear?” Deep down though, he wasn’t joking, and you knew it too. Despite this, you chuckled along with him and shook your head. You stopped him with a hand around his large wrist as he moved to stand. 

“Thank you, by the way.” You said sincerely, being selfish in the way you allowed yourself to drink in the manner in which the dim lighting hit his dark features. He looked like he was crafted with a magical pick to cater specifically to each of your hidden desires. “For… roughing that guy up for me.”

For the first time, the smile that graced his lips wasn’t teasing, or sarcastic, it was genuine. It made him look far softer than his harsh appearance let on, and you wanted nothing more than for him to look at you with such care forever. Reaching up to grasp the back of your neck, you tensed a bit as he pulled you forward. His warm lips only pressed against your temple though, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or not. As he pulled away from you, he ruffled your hair. 

“Anything for my favorite girl. Now take your hair out those damn pigtails.”

Safe to say, you never tried that little tip-grabbing trick again. Well, except, you attempted it just once more. It was a week when your shifts had been slower than normal, so you were a little desperate. All it took was one pointed glare from your favorite bartender, and you were making a beeline to the bathroom to take them out. After the last week though, you didn’t have to worry about it so much since you finally began taking over some shifts as a bartender with your newfound training. 

Sukuna was right, the influx of tips you recieved as a bartender was incomparable to what you were pulling in on the floor. The only downside to this arrangement was that they never scheduled two bartenders at the same time, so you didn’t see your mentor as much as you once did. Maybe it was for the best though, because your sudden, schoolgirl crush on the man that you swore was just a workplace fantasy, was beginning to bleed into your own relationship. 

You found yourself comparing your boyfriend to him each chance you got. It wasn’t fair- you knew that- comparing him to a man he didn’t even know existed. So, you tried to bring it up to him. Of course, you didn’t bring up your incredibly attractive, overwhelmingly cool, and strong coworker who had made it very clear that he was into you. You did ask him if he could be a little more attentive when you would tell him about your day, leaving out the way Sukuna would completely ignore customers until you finished whatever story you were babbling to him about your current tables, his chin propped up on his fist in feigned boredom. In addition, you pleaded with him to take himself a little less seriously than he had been since beginning his internship, not mentioning the way Sukuna let you paint his nails black in the breakroom after you joked about how it would complete the edge-lord look he had going on. 

Each time though, you were shut down. Even more mortifyingly so, you had been branded as the ‘nagging girlfriend’, and although you tried desperately not to, you took it to heart. You were more hesitant with the manner in which you’d even ask what he wanted for dinner, worried he may snap back at you the way he’d done that night. It felt as though you were back in front of those difficult customers, too afraid to stand up for yourself and your expectations as you knew deep down you should have. 

So, when you walked into your shift that day, tying your apron around your waist since you’d picked up to work on the floor tonight after a desperate call from your manager, your breath hitched when you saw that familiar presence behind the bar. Biting back a smile lest you appear too excited, you moved to punch in. From across the room, he caught your eye, his bicep flexing as he maneuvered the shaker aggressively over his shoulder, and his movements faltered for just a second. It was long enough for you to notice though. His blinding white canines shone under the light as he flashed you a wolfish grin. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you went about your shift. It wasn’t until your third table that someone finally ordered a drink from the bar, and you had an excuse to make your way over. He was busy with another customer. The restaurant was fairly packed tonight, but you figured that much when your boss practically begged you to come in. Waiting patiently on the side, you noted with a fond smile that he still had that chipped, black polish on his nails from when you painted them about a week or two ago. 

“If it isn’t my replacement.” Sukuna tutted as he finally made his way over to you. He slid a shirley temple over to you, something he had begun doing every shift since your little hiccup behind the bar. Unable to hold back your grin, you popped the cherry still floating at the top between your teeth, humming in satisfaction. Leaning against the counter, he tilted his head at you in amusement. You didn’t miss the way he dragged his eyes down your face appreciatively. “Heard you’re becoming a fan favorite, doll. How’s that tuition fund coming along?”

“Piggy bank’s almost full, Kuna-Kuna.” You informed with a beam that had his hard heart melting. If he wasn’t so engrossed in the way you smiled so sweetly at him, he would have been just a tad bit mortified that anyone else would hear that nickname you had given him. Despite that, he didn’t have the heart to tell you to quit calling him that in front of people. “Even submitted my application last week.”

“Yeah?” He smiled proudly at you, drinking in the way you were looking at him like he put the stars in the sky. You nodded softly, taking a sip from your drink in hopes it would cool the heat rising in you. Leaning in closer to you as if he had a secret, he winked at you. “Shoulda told me earlier. Would’ve made it a dirty shirley.” 

You would be lying if you said your shifts didn’t flow a lot more smoothly when Sukuna was there with you. Whether it be the pick-me-up drinks mid shift, or the teasing banter each time you set down another ticket for him, he brought a blinding excitement to your days that were noticeably darker when he wasn’t around. Then again, he couldn’t stop all misfortunes from coming your way. 

You waved a quick goodbye to him and the remaining host as you punched out of your shift, a fond smile seemingly stuck permanently on your face as you got into your car that night. As you turned the key in the ignition, the car sputtered pathetically before turning back off. With furrowed brows, you attempted it again, only to get a shorter, more concerning response from your barely-hanging-on vehicle. Groaning softly, you banged your head gently against the wheel. A frightened gasp escaped you as you unintentionally honked the horn. Cursing under your breath, you sent a quick text to your boyfriend explaining your predicament. 

Talk about timing :( You okay to call an Uber? I’ve got an exam tomorrow I’m in the middle of cramming for. 

A small lump began to form in the back of your throat as you read his message. Realistically speaking, there was no problem with you calling an Uber to come get you, but, in combination with all the rest of the shortcomings that have been popping up in your lackluster relationship as of late, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the dread of it all. You thought about what your future might look like, and what you wanted so desperately for it to look like. A tear slipped down your cheek, and you suddenly felt as though you were mourning the loss of how your highschool self envisioned yourself-- your relationship, your self worth. 

A sharp rap on your window had you gasping out in between your quiet sobs. Looking up, Sukuna’s large head was peering in through your window, his eyebrows pulled together in a way that made him look absolutely terrifying. You shook your head at him, waving dimissively as you tried to quickly wipe your tear-stained cheeks. His expression deadpanned, and he only knocked again, more purposefully this time. Sighing in exasperation, you hesitantly rolled your window down. 

“The fuck are you crying for?” He asked before the window was even all the way down. Your abrupt change in mood almost gave him whiplash, seeing as you were all sunshines and roses as you closed the restaurant alongside him just a few minutes ago. 

“Nothing--”

“Oh, don’t bullshit me.”

You dropped your head into your hands, another sob forcing its way up and out your throat. Sniffling pathetically, you mumbled into your palms. 

“My car won’t start.”

It was silent for a beat as he assessed the situation with an exasperated expression. He wasn’t buying it. 

“Your car won’t start…” he questioned as if asking if he was following along correctly, to which you nodded, still unable to face him. “So you’re boo-hoo crying in the parking lot?” You hummed in agreement to his words, not caring how pathetic it made you sound. Anything as long as you didn’t have to explain the shambles your relationship was currently in. “Your man can come get you though, right? Not the end of the world, doll.” 

Your silence made him lean in closer, prying your hands from your soaked face. Now forced to face him, there was a look of defeat on your broken face that made him want to beat your boyfriend’s ass to a stone-cold pulp. 

“He’s… he’s got a big test tomorrow.”

He tried to bite back his irritation at your poor attempt at an excuse, but he couldn’t help the way he sucked his teeth and took an extentive breath out to calm his temper. Casting a forlorn glance to the side before taking one more look at your once sweet face littered with pain, he reached in to unlock the door and then swung it open. 

“C’mon,” Sukuna urged as gently as he could, grabbing your arm to help you out of the car as you stared at him in question. “I’m taking your sorry ass home.” 

“No, Sukuna, I’m ordering an Uber. It’s--”

“Like hell you are, it’s almost midnight. Let’s go.”

Before you could protest further, your car door was being shut behind you, and he was walking you toward his bike. Turning toward you, he wiped at your tears haphazardly before placing his bulky helmet over your head. 

“What about you?” You questioned with a still shaking voice as you watched him mount the bike with no protection. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’m already dumb as rocks. Gotta protect that brain of yours so you can get into your program, yeah?”

You were grateful for the heavy contraption covering your head so he didn’t see the small smile that sliced through your previously pitiful expression. He nodded for you to get on. Grasping his shoulder for support, you carefully slid on behind him. The warmth of his back set you ablaze as your body slid forward to meet his. You nervously wiped the palms of your hands on your jeans as he started the motorcycle, the roar of the machine rumbling in your sensitive ears. 

His head tilted back to look at you with a raised brow. Pink hair rippled gracefully in the wind in the most picturesque way as he smirked at you. 

“You gonna hang on, or should I let you fly off as soon as this thing takes off?”

With a thick gulp, you leaned forward in an attempt to grasp at his hips in a way that could ensure you maintain your composure throughout the ride. He tutted softly, grabbing your wrists and wrapping your arms firmly around his waist, shoving your cold hands into the pockets of his jacket. As he took off, the rumbling of the bike beneath you did nothing to help your flustered state. Against your frigid fingers, you could feel the taut muscles of his prominent abs flexing as he leaned forward on the motorcycle. 

It took everything in him to concentrate on the road before him. As he felt your small fingers timidly exploring the expanse of his abdomen in a way you surely thought was subtle, the task at hand was proving increasingly difficult. And yeah, maybe he did speed up just a little bit to feel you tighten your arms around him. God, he could have moaned at the feeling. Some primal urge deep within him wanted to pull this bike over and tell you that you didn’t have to act so shy, he’d let you touch him anywhere your pretty little heart desired. What he’d give to have you explore all of him with those small, timid hands of yours.  

Sukuna had to clear his throat as he rolled up in front of your apartment complex. For a minute, you both just sat there, allowing each other to be so close for just a minute longer. You wondered if he could feel your heart pounding against his back. In the end, you were the first to pull away, wrangling the heavy helmet off your head. As you did this, he maneuvered off the bike with ease, only to grasp his large hands over your waist to lift you off and onto the ground. Unnecessary, but a little showing off never hurt anyone, right? 

“Thank you, Kuna, really.” You mumbled as he took the helmet from your hands and settled it on the bike. You were peering up at him through your lashes, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were begging him to kiss you. Hell, maybe you were, but he knew deep down that’s not a line you would be able to live with yourself if you crossed. Still, you reached up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. It took everything in him not to lift you up and just take you home with him right then. So, he swallowed the feeling of sand running down his throat and opted to press a soft, safe kiss against your temple. 

As you reluctantly pulled away from the now overly familiar and comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smoke that clung to him, you smiled softly as you began walking away. You turned upon hearing footsteps behind you, following you. 

“What… are you doing?”

“I’m taking you up to your apartment, the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” He stated obviously. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t…” Your words drifted upon seeing the challenging look that settled over his face. Picking anxiously at your fingernails, you found it within you to continue. “It’s just-- I don’t want my…”

“You don’t want your boyfriend to see that someone else took his girlfriend home since he apparently had something better to do?” Sukuna guessed, that familiar irritation creeping up in his chest, and he had to tell himself to cool it. You could only nod dumbly. “Yeah? Well I ain’t fucking scared of him. I’m walking ya’ to your damn apartment.”

With the finality in his tone, you had no choice but to allow him to trail menacingly behind you all the way up to your apartment door. The blood was rushing in your ears with anxiety, and you hoped he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you unlocked the door. Sukuna stood in the hallway outside, but that didn’t prevent your boyfriend, who was sat on the edge of the couch alongside his friends with a card game sprawled out on the table, from seeing the intimidatingly large, tatted up man who’d just seemingly dropped off his girlfriend through the crack of the door. His brows furrowed at the sight, his imagination running a mile a minute, and he slowly stood up from the couch. 

God, in all his years being paid to rock the shit out of some seriously sketch people, Sukuna had never wanted to knock the teeth out of someone so badly. The dude was approaching the door as if he was really going to try something, and the bartender almost actually laughed at the thought of him trying. Before he had the chance to get questioned by your pussy-ass looking boyfriend, you had quickly shut the door in his face after muttering one last thank you. 

You sighed shakily as you locked the apartment door. Without the looming threat of Sukuna causing a scene about what had transpired that night, you were able to take in the sight before you. His friends, the card game, the drinks surrounding them. Your brows furrowed. 

“Who was that guy?” You heard your boyfriend question skeptically, but you were shaking your head in disbelief. Ignoring him all together, along with his friends that waved to you in greeting, you pushed past him to get to your shared room. “Hey!”

You attempted to shut the door in his face, just wanting to be alone for the night to process that your boyfriend just ditched you to play cards with his friends, and, worst of all, he lied to you about it. The door quietly shut behind him as he slid into the room, that suspicious look still everpresent on his face as if you were the guilty one here. 

“Babe, who was that guy out there?” He asked again. His voice was level, but you could hear those undertones of fierce defensiveness-- the kind you hated feeding into. You wanted to brush him off, tell him he was just a coworker of yours, and that he should get back to his friends who were waiting for him. In the back of your head though, you could hear Sukuna’s gravelly voice.

Assholes like that only shit on you so much cause you let ‘em

That night, for the first time in your seven year relationship, you let your boyfriend have it. You stood up for yourself, and you confronted him about lying to you, about not being decent enough to come make sure his girlfriend was okay when her car broke down in the middle of the night, about how you’ve turned into someone he only seems to be annoyed with. It was the first and last time you had ever stood up to him. When you came to work the next afternoon, you were almost an hour late, but you had two duffel bags worth of your things in the back of your Uber. 

As you pushed in through the double doors, you kept your head down as you made your way to the break room to drop off your bags. You heard your name being called, but you couldn’t face him right now. It was too embarrassing, the thought of having to tell him it didn’t work out after defending him for months. Your feigned ignorance to the call of your name didn’t stop Sukuna from bursting into the break room just seconds after you, watching incredulously as you hauled in two big ass bags.

“What the hell happened to you?” He questioned, grabbing the two, large duffel bags from your shoulders and setting them carefully on the ground. “Fuck, I almost clocked out and went over there myself.”

His irritated rambling only ceased upon seeing your swollen eyes and red cheeks. You didn’t have to say it, he already knew. Already feeling guilty for having raised his voice to you in such a state, he pulled you in by your shoulders, wrapping his arms tightly around your small frame. Sobs wracked your body, but he thought maybe if he held you tight enough he could squeeze all the tears out for you. Your arms hung limply at your sides as you pressed your face pathetically into his chest once more before pushing him away. 

You shook your head, frantically wiping your face and attempting to fix your hair. His red eyes were still intently on you, waiting with bated breath for you to either tell him what happened or snap, whichever came first. Slowly sinking down into one of the chairs, you brought your knees up to your chest. 

“You were right, Kuna.” You cried out with a bitter smile, unable to look him in the eyes. “He only walked all over me ‘cause I was letting him. I’m not gonna let him do it again, alright?”

“The fuck did that asshole do to ya’?” Sukuna snatched a chair out to face you before settling down with his chest pressed against the back of it. Your eyes drifted to the side, and he felt his jaw click with how roughly he was grinding his teeth together. “Huh?”

“He…” Your bottom lip trembled again, but this time it was out of sheer embarrassment from what you were about to tell him. “He asked me if you were the reason I had been questioning our relationship.”

That caught the usually quick-witted bartender off guard. He didn’t even know that you had been questioning your relationship. Had he been the reason for it? He couldn’t help the thoughts that began racing in his mind. 

“What’d you tell him?” It was all he could muster out, watching you with bated breath. 

“I told him to fuck off.” Through your blubbering tears, you managed to laugh, and Sukuna felt himself smiling along with you, a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest at the thought of the once timid girl finally growing a backbone. “Just like you taught me, Kuna.”

Abandoning any thoughts of fleeting hope that maybe your possible attraction to him was the straw that broke the back of your already straining relationship, he reached out to ruffle your hair. 

“That’s my girl.” He quipped, now working to smooth your hair down for you. His teeth caught on his bottom lip as he tried to suppress his next question, but he just had to know. “Did he cry?”

“Sukuna!” You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his eager question. Sniffling back your tears, you shoved at his hands and fixed your face before standing up. “Maybe.”

A victorious, villainous sounding cackle fell from his lips, and he high fived you. 

“Fuck yeah, he did. C’mon, heartbreaker, I’ll make you a dirty shirley to get you through your shift.”

It was definitely one of the harder shifts that you had had to brave through, but Sukuna was there each time you needed to take a breather. Hell, he had even gone as far as to run most of your drinks for you despite your boss’s demands for him to stay behind the damn bar for once. It only took one pointed glare from the bartender to straighten that situation out quicker than it had started. 

Still, no matter how many marashcino cherries he snuck over to you during your shift, or however many time he pulled you out back for a smoke break when he could tell you were about to lose it, the end of your shift was drawing near, and you were about to be faced with the reality of your decision once again. 

“Your car still acting up, doll? Need a ride?” Sukuna’s cool voice questioned from the bar as you got done wiping down your final table. You sighed, turning to lean against the now squeaky clean table. 

“No, I’m gonna stay with a friend. She lives kind of far out, so I’ll just take an Uber and call a mechanic to come take a look at that piece of crap in the morning.”

“How far out? You ain’t on the schedule for tomorrow?” He asked, walking back with you to pick up your bags from the break room. You watched him tuck his helmet under his arm in addition to your hefty bags. 

“About an hour or so. It’s alright, I just have to leave a little earlier than usual. Living the dream, am I right?” 

You heard his tut softly, and his steps out of the break room halted. 

“That’s bullshit, come stay with me.”

In an instant, your face flushed at the implications, and you were quickly shaking your head at him with a scoff. Sure, you would be lying if you said you weren’t extremely attracted to the man. Getting yourself into a situation that sticky only a day after exiting a seven year relationship though? A situation in which you’d be depending on said attractive man for the roof over your head? That sounded like a recipe for disaster.

“C’mon, I’ve got an efficiency that the brat uses when he comes to visit. Nice little kitchen and everything. You’d have your own space. It’s just sitting there, don’t be so proud.”

It wasn’t your pride getting in the way though. It was the fact that this man had made it very clear on multiple occasions that he was ‘next in line’ should your relationship fail. You weren’t sure accepting a room with those kinds of conditions was the best idea for you at this point. 

“Sukuna…” You murmured, kicking a scuff of dirt off your shoe just so you didn’t have to look at him as you explained yourself. “I… I need some time. Thank you for being so nice to me and all, but… I’m just not ready for--”

“Jesus, I’m not tryna cash in your ass for rent, doll.” He explained, and there was almost an underlying tone of offense in his usually cool voice. Although, even he had to admit that he couldn’t blame you for assuming such a thing-- what with the way he flirted relentlessly with you, but that was more so just to be able to see the way you blushed for him. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder. “Look, you can take the efficiency, and you won’t even have to see my dumbass if you don’t wanna. Separate door and everything. I’m not asking you for anything in return, just wanna make your life a little easier till you get back on your feet.”

It did sound like a romantic enough offer, you thought as you chewed on your lip pensively. Additionally, it wasn’t as if he’d ever advanced on you inappropriately, and he always turned it down a notch if he noticed his teasing was making you uncomfortable. After all, you could always reach out to your friend should things go south.

“No conditions?” You questioned apprehensively. 

“Eh, might make you take some of my weekend shifts to make it up to me.”

An amused smile fought its way onto your lips despite yourself. You were disciplined enough to live with your extremely attractive, fit, and funny co-worker right after a bad breakup, right?

Wrong. You were not disciplined enough. It had been three days since you moved into the small efficiency at Sukuna’s modest home. You figured his little gig as a makeshift hitman must have paid him a decent amount to be able to afford a house on his own, but you weren’t gonna ask any questions. The space he offered you was neat, neater than you’d expected when he said his teenage nephew had been living there. There were photos hung up in the tiny living area, and you were shocked to see what looked to be a spitting image of the bartender, save for all the piercings and tattoos of course, beaming brightly at the camera alongside his larger, more brooding counterpart. 

Sukuna meant it when he said you didn’t have to see him if you didn’t want to. You hadn’t heard so much as a peep from your neighbor except for when he’d offered to carpool with you to work. Even then, he would wait outside the front door for you, never once stepping into your space. You were grateful, you seriously, seriously were. Still, the thought of him being just a wall away from you every night was driving you a little bit crazy, and you were beginning to feel a bit like a freeloader. 

So, that Sunday morning when the restaurant was closed, you got yourself up bright and early and began cooking. Waffles, eggs, bacon-- the whole nine yards. Once you were satisfied with your spread, you packed everything up and tried to appear confident when you knocked on his door. You waited. One minute. Two minutes. Was he even home? You peered out and saw his bike still parked out front, a large, black tarp covering it. When you turned back to the door, it was abruptly swinging open. 

Oh, right. Sukuna mentioned something about taking the bartending position to get out of working mornings. You were reminded of that little fact as you took in his dishevled appearance. His pink hair was messily strewn out in every which direction, complemented by the way his eyes squinted down at you to adjust to the light. The only thing he currently donned was a pair of baggy, black sweatpants that clung dangerously low on his hips. Your previous assumption had been correct; those intricate little tattoos did cover his entire body, most notable being the two that accentuated his already defined v-line. 

“Oh… I’m sorry. I just--”

“That for me?” He asked brashly, pointing lazily to the three tupperware containers stacked haphazardly in your arms. You could only nod, afraid of making more of an idiot of yourself than you already had. A rough grunt slipped past his lips, and he opened the door to let you in. “You coming in or what?”

You really had just intended to drop off breakfast for him, say your thanks, and leave, but this worked too. His space was neat, a little lifeless in your opinion, but what could you expect from a guy like Sukuna? Unlike the little efficiency you had settled into, there weren’t any photos hung around anywhere for you to pry into. As he set the tupperware down on the table and moved to grab some plates, you looked around his tidy kitchen. Hung on the fridge with a plain looking magnet was a letter of acceptance into a local university. Upon closer inspection, you noticed his nephew’s name on it. Jesus, he was making it really hard to not swoon. 

As you two shared your homemade breakfast on his small dining nook, he asked you about how you had been holding up, and you were honest with him. It was definitely an adjustment, but you felt as though you had been mentally checked out of the relationship for some time, and maybe that was why you felt a little more put together about it than you probably should have. Despite this, you told him how the hardest part was not having that person around that you always felt comfortable telling everything to. You couldn’t gauge what the look on his face meant upon hearing this confession. 

“You know… I got an email on Friday.” You began, deciding you needed something to break the sudden tension between you two. He hummed in question as he moved to clean your now dirty dishes in the sink. Your fingertips grasped the counter top in anticipation, and part of you questioned if he would be as excited as you were. “I got into the program.”

The dish he was holding dropped into the sink with a concerning clatter, and he spun around to meet your gaze. 

“No shit?” Sukuna gasped in disbelief, suddenly appearing more awake and alert than he had in the past hour. Grasping at your shoulders, he smiled excitedly down at you. “No shit! Why am I just hearing the damn news now?” 

You squealed in surprise as he lifted you up into a bear hug. His bare skin was warm against yours, and you took advantage of the proximity to trace your finger curiously down the tattoo on his neck. With a breathless laugh, you hoped he couldn’t feel your face heating up. 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly in the celebrating mood three days ago if you can recall, Kuna…”

“Right, right,” He groaned, setting you down atop the counter so he could look you in the eye. His gaze was glimmering with pride, and you found yourself once again seriously questioning what dimension this man had fallen from. “So, what now? You gonna quit your job? Is it close by?”

“No, it’s local. I’ll probably see if they can keep me on part-time at least. Can’t leave my favorite bartender behind, can I?” Your voice was soft as you stared down at your lap shyly. With your gaze turned away from him, you missed the way his eyes softened at your words. 

Throughout the past few days, Sukuna wanted nothing more than to pound on your door to check in on you, but he knew these next few weeks would be sensitive for you. He didn’t want to cross that line-- make you regret agreeing to stay with him. Your story stuck in his mind every night though, what your asshole boyfriend had asked you just before you left him. As you sat in front of him, eyes shyly cast down and talking so sweet to him in that way you were so good at, he felt his resolve slipping. 

“Can I ask you a question, doll? And you don’t gotta answer it if you don’t wanna.”

This made you peer up at him in question, not anticipating how close he’d be when you did. You nodded with an inviting smile, almost scared of what he was about to say. 

“That asshole… he asked if you were questioning things with him ‘cause of me.” Sukuna began, and he watched the knowing look fall upon your face. It was too late now though. Leaning a hand against the counter, he tilted his head sincerely at you. “Was it? ‘Cause of me?”

The thinning barrier between friends and more was disappearing right before your eyes, and you found it increasingly difficult to tear your eyes away from his. They captured you with a fierce presence, begging you to prove him right, to let him know it wasn’t just him. Your entire mind was being clouded by Sukuna-- his eyes, his scent, his aggressive dominance that demanded to be felt. So, against your better judgement, you inched forward. 

“If I said it was… what would you do?” You questioned, your voice just above a whisper. His heart leaped into his throat. Something switched in his expression in just a second, and it almost darkened as he regarded you intensely. The hand he held beside you twitched, threatening to graze against the plush flesh of your thighs that spilled out from your pajama shorts. 

“Nothing unless you asked me to.”

“And… if I asked you to?

You felt it then, his rough fingers creeping up to grip your thigh. A small gasp escaped your lips, and he watched the motion with a smirk. Leaning in until his lips brushed dangerously against the shell of your ear, he whispered lowly. 

“I’d reach places in you that lowlife didn’t even know existed.”

No matter how badly you wanted to reach out to grasp at his tattooed shoulder for support, your hands seemed to remain superglued to your lap. Still, as your chest heaved softly, you could feel his firm pecs graze against your breasts teasingly. The proximity, the teasing, the anticipation-- it was damn near making you lightheaded. 

“Sukuna?” You whispered, and he hummed in question. “Please… please, touch me.”

As his hand dove into the front of your frilly shorts, and you gasped so sweetly into his ear, Sukuna made a mental note to thank his brat ass nephew for telling him to stay out of trouble while he was gone. 

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[strawberriianime]

Surprise Visitor

♡ ryomen sukuna x reader

♡ Your good friend Itadori comes to visit you~?

♡ cw: 18+ content, oral sex (receiving), fingering, dirty talk, sukuna switches with yuji, sukuna's a flirt.

Hanging with Yuji is fun, however hanging around with his permanent special guest is not so fun. It's no secret that Sukuna has a thing for you, he makes it known out loud. He constantly plagues Yuji's mind with dirty images of you, impure thoughts that leave him up all night silently masturbating as Sukuna thought bout how your boobs bounced up and down earlier that day as you went down the steps.

One day you wore a pair of spandex shorts that caressed every curve so perfectly showing the complete shape of your ass. It took everything in Yuji's body to keep Sukuna at bay, as he constantly tried to catch Yuji in a weak moment so he could pounce on you. If he couldn't swap places with him he was more than okay with making extra mouth pop up to add his unnecessary commentary. "It looks like you're not wearing panties, let me get a taste." he was quick as Yuji slapped the side of his face leaving before you could respond. You had to reassure Yuji that Sukuna was just being Sukuna and his comments didn't affect you and you just brushed them off as he started to avoid you. It's been a while since you have seen Yuji but you simply brushed it off as he was busy.

Currently, you have just gotten out of the shower relaxing in your towel rubbing a vanillia-scented lotion on your skin when you hear a knock at your door. Hopefully, it was the food you had ordered as you were starving and they were definitely running late. Changing into your silk robe, you made your way to the door opening it only to be met with a broad chest. "Yuji," you asked gripping your robe as he stepped into your apartment. You closed the door, locking it and waiting for a response. "Guess again" a deeper voice replied. "Sukuna? Why are you here?" you gripped your robe even tighter as the man instantly moved behind you one hand gripping your lower waist and the other stopping right under your breast. "Please, you know why I'm here and what I'm here for." He pushed you back slightly allowing you to feel his harden length against your soft ass. "You've been teasing me and that's not fair. Wearing those short skirts with the tiniest pair of lace panties barely covering that greedy pussy" his lower hand trails along the material of your robe, rubbing circles on your thigh and moving closer to your heat. You pressed your thighs together to prevent his hands from moving any farther. To your dismay, he easily pried your legs apart warm fingers rubbing against your slick folds. "No panties on? Tch It's like you knew I was coming over." As much as you wanted to protest, you couldn't deny the amount of pleasure you were feeling. He used his middle finger to rub circles onto your clit causing your chest to heave and making the silk material of your robe slide over your shoulders. You felt his hand sneak up to grab at your breast, folding the flesh in his palm. You felt something wet along your nipple, sucking harshly at the bud sneaking in a few bites here and there. He pushed in two fingers causing you to let out a long sultry moan, you could almost feel his smirk. "Kids got taste, nice tits, fat ass, and a wet tight pussy not bad" he teased moving his fingers in and out slowly. He moved you two over to your living room chair, causing you to sit on his lap his fingers still inside you. Your legs were spread wide open giving him full access to your cunt. Pulling you out of your thoughts, you felt his pace speed up fingering you at a pace you've never experienced before. "A-aah Sukuna fuck!" The room was filled with wet, squelching sounds mixed in with your moans. "Listen to that, your pussy is yearning for my dick just begging to be fucked and stuffed with my cum" he growled in your ear and you threw your head back clenching around the fingers you were about to cum on. As if reading your mind, he pulled his fingers out causing you to sight. Your juices reflected on his fingers, watching as he brought them to his lips tongue licking around his fingers sucking your juices off them. "I want you to cum on my tongue" he was quick to sit you down, pushing your legs apart cunt shining under the dim living room lights. With no hesitation, he lapped at your heat licking between your folds tongue swirling around finding your clit sucking harshly at the bud. Your legs were getting weak, as you were still sensitive from the almost orgasm you had earlier. "Fuckk it feels so good" you moaned out feeling his tongue poke around your entrance teasing the hole. You felt his hands grip your waist pulling you closer and allowing him to push his tongue in even deeper. He could tell from the constant shaking of your legs that you were about to cum. "It takes a real man to eat pussy this good" he sucked greedily at your clit rotating between roughly sucking at your puffy folds. "A-aah I-Im cumming" Your back arched off the chair feeling the familiar sensation coming over your body. The rough suck slowly turned into gentle kitten licks lapping up the remainder of your juices. You felt his tight grip loosen and his body language change completely. "Yuji? Oh My God"