Hey 💕 Can I Request Story About Sukuna Being All Soft And Gentle With Reader? 😩 Like Soft Morning

“As I’ve already stated,” Nanami pauses to sip at the coffee in his hand, “I’ve no interest in speaking to her.” 

Annoyed, Gojo leans back in his seat, casting a glance to the Instagram post that he had shown Nanami — the girl in it was attractive, but somehow it still wasn’t the blonde’s type. 

“Hmm, maybe you’re just not into brunettes,” Gojo says dismissively, scrolling through the woman’s Instagram before stowing his phone away into his pocket. 

Nanami bites back the chuckle in his throat, masking it by taking another sip of his now lukewarm coffee. A shame that Gojo kept interrupting him just as he wanted to enjoy his break.  

“I’m not into anyone,” Nanami finally says, setting down his cup — though he is quite frustrated considering that the coffee had been purchased by someone else for him.  

“Oh? What, have some secret girlfriend I don’t know about?” Gojo teases, already laughing at his own joke. Nanami shoots him a pointed glare, subconsciously running a finger over the smooth metal band adorning his left ring finger.  

“I don’t see how—“ 

Nanami’s phone buzzes on the table, its screen displaying your image. It’s one of Nanami’s favorite photos of you, one that he had taken himself during one of your monthly date nights.  

Gojo’s eyes flicker down to the flashing screen, his eyebrows raising and his eyes widening in absolute shock. “Who—?” 

Nanami is quick to answer the call, pressing the phone against his ear and doing very little to hide the smile that curls his lips upward. “Hi love.” 

Gojo’s jaw goes completely slack. It’s an expression that would make anyone laugh — Nanami is honestly shocked at how well he was able to keep his straightforward façade.  

“Yes, I should be home soon. I did not forget,” Nanami’s tone is reassuring, one that Gojo had never heard in the stoic man’s voice before. It’s heartwarming, not that he would ever admit it out loud.  

“I love you too, bye now.” 

The minute that Nanami hangs up, Gojo is practically screaming. Heads turn, and in a fit of both frustration and embarrassment, Nanami attempts to diffuse the situation. 

“You have a girlfriend?!” 

“Wife, actually.” 

“Are you—?!” 

Hi 👋

Can u write Yuta, Gojo, Kokichi, and Noritoshi (the student) with a fem s/o who's very calm,quiet, and scary in public bcz of their scars and muscular body but when they are alone she's very sweet and shy :)

Make it fluff, and it's up to you if u wanna make it headcanons or whatever :)

Sypnosis - How would these boys fare with an S/O who doesn't look the most approachable at times?

Includes - Yuuta Okkotsu, Satoru Gojo, Kokichi Muta, Noritoshi Kamo

Warning(s) - none besides mention of scarring on Reader

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

You were not exactly known to have a friendly face or an approachable person – avoided by many in most social settings thanks to the deep furrow of your brow and the frown that curls the corners of your mouth downward. Though you could be doing something as simple as thinking about what to prepare for dinner that night, your exterior displayed a deep anger for any and all that surrounded you.  

You had built up walls that were borderline impenetrable … that is … until he steps into your life.  

YUUTA OKKOTSU  

Like many, at first, Yuuta was intimidated by you. You carried yourself in such a way that made it seem as if you were uninterested in everyone around you – which included him when he first transferred to Jujutsu Tech. 

Even Gojo seemed hesitant to introduce you, gesturing to you quickly with a wave of his hand before doing his absolute best to change the subject without it being noticed by you, Yuuta, or any of the other second-years.  

One of the first things that Yuuta notices about you is the thin scars that line your arms, little stories of the missions that you had been on and reminders of the curses that you had defeated.  

In truth, your appearance only adds to the mysterious, intimidating persona that you seemed to have adopted — one that deeply scared others and continuously drove them away from you.  

Initially, it seems like the only person that you tolerate is Maki, considering that she’s the only one that you show a sliver of emotion to. She’s the only one that you offer a soft smile to, the only one that you regard without that sharpened ice in your voice, the only one that you really showed that you were … well … human.  

The other second-years had your favor as well; Yuuta quite enjoyed watching you train with Panda or playfully argue with Inumaki. He just wished that he had the courage to do what they did — which essentially was just talking to you.  

It’s only really with Panda’s pushing that Yuuta eventually builds up enough courage to approach you, hesitantly asking if you’d wanted to spar with him (Maki was preoccupied with Inumaki). Shockingly, you smiled softly at him and accepted.  

The rest was, quite literally, history.  

Little by little, Yuuta makes his way over the walls that you had built up around your heart, soft eyes and gentle smile worming its way into your life without any intent of ever leaving.  

He begins to realize that the way you acted with him was a complete 180 to how you acted around others. You regarded him with a soft tone, you touched him with gentle palms, you cooed sweet praises to him and hugged him tightly on those cold nights. 

You may be a force to be reckoned with out on the field, but to Yuuta? You were the soft-spoken girl that he devoted his entire heart to.  

SATORU GOJO 

At first, Gojo doesn’t want to think that he finds you intimidating. He tries to be nonchalant when he sees you standing beside Nanami, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes flicker around the room — desperately trying to look anywhere but where you stand.  

His gaze is drawn to your scars almost immediately, slightly impressed at the fact that you do very little to hide them. In any other case, he would say that you were proud of them (at least, that’s what he thought).  

But, ever the confident man, Gojo does eventually decide to approach you (literally the second that Nanami leaves the room). He tries to crack a joke or two, hoping that you would break and that maybe you would crack a smile. You don’t … and he physically deflates. 

That does very little to actually deter him though. Actually, he makes it his personal mission to make his way over the walls that you’ve so obviously put up around your heart. While everyone else would find his actions downright annoying, you find them oddly endearing.  

It’s rare that someone takes such an interest in you, considering that the aura you radiated was really anything but initially friendly. To see Gojo try so hard to capture your attention … well, it only makes you that much more interested in just why he was so dead set on you.  

Eventually, Gojo finally finds it in himself to properly ask you out — in his very own Satoru Gojo way. A bouquet of overpriced roses, a night at a resturant with pricing that could probably pay your mortgage, and a sweet walk that ended with Gojo hopelessly devoting himself to you.  

He adores the change in your personality — how you can easily switch from sternly speaking to your students to mumbling to him as if he were the only thing in your world that mattered.  

But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t also love the firm persona you take on when you’re, for example, out for a day together.  

He adores you … always and forever. 

KOKICHI MUTA  

Unlike the others, Kokichi isn’t immediately put off by your appearance. If anything, he’s intrigued by it. In a way, you remind him of himself; kept to yourself and separated from others — it makes him want to interact with you right at that moment.  

He won’t ever admit it to your face, but the first time that he did end up speaking to you, he was quite literally shaking under your gaze. You were just so damn assertive. 

At first, you come off as very bothered by Kokichi – but he quickly learns that it's the complete opposite. Just because you were this scarred, unapproachable individual didn't make you any less human than Kokichi himself.  

Slowly but surely, he makes his way over those walls that you had built up around your heart, opening you up and revealing that softened persona that lay hidden underneath it all. The sweet-eyed, soft-spoken girl who really wanted nothing more than to love and be loved in return.  

Upon coming to that realization, Kokichi finds himself gentler with you – just like you were with him. His words are soft-spoken and truthful, his actions performed out of the kindness of his heart rather than if the situation called for it.  

All in all, Kokichi feels a sense of protectiveness over you once you finally open yourself up to him. You were being vulnerable with him in a way that you simply weren't around others. And he was going to protect that vulnerability, no matter what it took.  

NORITOSHI KAMO 

Out of all the previously mentioned characters, Noritoshi is the one who minds the least about your appearance. If anything, he finds himself relating to you — considering that many don’t approach him as well for various reasons.  

And so because of that, he approaches you with as much confidence as he could muster, striking up a conversation with you and regarding you just as softly and respectfully as he would anyone else.  

You’re caught off guard by him at first, though slowly but surely, you and Noritoshi constantly seek the other out.  

He admires your ability to switch between being stoic and cold to soft and sweet. How around others you wore an expression as cold as the harshest winter, but the moment that you heard the lull of his voice, you were turning to him with a gentle smile.  

Noritoshi admires your scars actually, spending many nights just laying at your side with his fingertips dragging over the raised skin. He’ll hum a quiet song for the both of you, holding you and simply moving his fingers along your arm or leg.  

Another thing that Noritoshi adores about you is the way you whisper to him during your time spent together — how you lower and soften your voice when speaking to him. He smiles gently at you when he notices, then holding your face and decorating your face with little kisses.  

He doesn't mind your switch from soft to stoic, he knows that it's just what you're used to and it's become the norm for you. To him, you're still his lover, his absolute everything -- no matter what persona you decide to put on for the day. 

Ooh…what about defected!Geto falling in love with a non-sorcerer? And there’s no internal conflict for him, it’s more like he saw her, and somehow everything clicked into place. The attraction is undeniable, the chemistry is palpable, and it’s like his entire world is now tilted on an axis to a new, different Sun — her.

Sypnosis - Eyes that glance at others with hatred could only gaze at you as if you had hung the moon and each individual star.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, this is so sickly sweet I am WEAK

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

It’s not like he meant for this to happen. 

But the way that you regarded him with such a softened voice and with hands gentler than the finest silk had him wrapped around your finger — seeking more of that sweet affection that you provided to him.  

The way that your eyes shone the moment you noticed him entering a room, the way that you scooted closer to him, the way that you hung off of his every word.  

He knew that he shouldn’t care about you — you were the personification of everything that he hated. A weak non-sorcerer who could do nothing when it came to defending oneself. 

And yet here he was, wanting nothing more than to shield you and protect you from the dangers of the world.  

“There you are.” Your soft voice wraps around Geto and lightly pulls him from whatever trance he had unknowingly fallen victim to. His head turns to watch as you enter, his lips turning upward in a lovesick smile.  

“Apologies love, were you searching for me?” Geto inquires curiously, his eyes fluttering shut as your lips press sweetly against his forehead.  

“Not me, the girls were asking for you,” you respond, lowering yourself down to sit at Geto’s side, sitting in between his outstretched legs. He smiles again, hand instinctively extending to lay against your leg, his thumb rubbing back and forth affectionately against your skin. 

“Were they?” 

“They were. Mimiko says that you promised her a tea party,” you say with a teasing raise of your eyebrow, one that Geto responds to with a shake of his head — though you don’t fail to notice the smile that he tries so hard to conceal.  

Subconsciously, Geto moves himself closer to you, squeezing your leg and feeling his chest warm as you nestle into his shoulder, cheek pressing comfortably against the soft fabric of his robes.  

“Did I now?” His shoulder rumbles against your cheek, his hand moving upward from your leg to stroke gentle circles into the small of your back. You hum against him, smiling as you nuzzle impossibly further into the warmth of his embrace.  

You both sit in silence, but neither of you mind it. It allows Geto to think — reflect on everything that had led him up to the very position that he found himself in.  

Geto knew that he was a terrible person, or rather, he was a terrible person by the standards that society constantly voiced. But shockingly, even with all of that, you loved him as if it were as easy as breathing.  

You saw past what the others said about him, you didn’t just see Geto — you saw Suguru. 

“Sugu?” you whisper sweetly, tilting your head to get a better look at your husband’s face. He turns to you, humming in response with a raised eyebrow — silently telling you to continue speaking. “I love you.” 

Geto smiles, his eyes softening at you as he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Sure, you were a non-sorcerer, you were the very thing that he wanted to protect. Never did he want to see a scratch on your body or a teardrop on your cheek. You redefined what life meant to him. 

For a flickering moment, Geto forgets all that he had done. He forgets all of his venomous words and all of the blood that once stained his hands. All of it forgotten with a simple whisper — a declaration.  

He pulls back from you just enough to lean his forehead against your own. “I love you more angel.” 

A/N - Decided to make the Sukuna and !Non-Trusting Girlfriend work a little series! I don't exactly know yet if I want to do full-length fics, drabbles, or a mix of both. But for now, I present y'all with this!

Read the original piece here!

"You're doing it again."

You stand up straighter, tilting your head curiously at Sukuna -- who bites back the chuckle that rises in his throat. He had noticed. Noticed the way that you eyed down the barista across the counter, how her eyes had raked over your boyfriend for just a moment too long.

"Doing what?" you ask, feigning innocence as he hands you your drink; your usual. It shocked you that he had even remembered it, elaborate as it was.

"Comparing yourself," he bends to whisper in your ear. You flush, cheeks burning a deep shade of pink. You avoid his question by taking a sip of your drink, ignoring the way that it burns your tongue.

Sukuna only shakes his head, hand slipping into yours as you both leave the coffee shop. The barista calls out her goodbyes behind you, but neither you nor Sukuna respond to her.

"She was pretty though, wasn't she?" you say to break the silence, eyes flickering away from Sukuna. He doesn't say anything, only sipping at his drink.

You deflate at his lack of an answer, he can feel it in the way that your grip on his hand loosens.

"You ask the dumbest fucking questions sometimes."

You turn your head. "What?"

Sukuna smirks down at you, his hand releasing yours. Your eyebrows pinch together, creating a small wrinkle between your brows. With that same smirk on his face, he bends to kiss between both of your eyebrows.

"You heard me brat," he bites back the chuckle that rises in his throat, "you and your stupid questions."

"It's not stupid."

"It is, because I think you already know the answer," Sukuna points out, smirking again to himself as you sip at your drink -- no doubt attempting to hide your bashful expression.

His arm tugs you against his chest, your shoulder knocking against him. You say nothing, though Sukuna doesn't fail to notice the little smile that curls the corner of your mouth upward.

The Shibuya Incident

JJK characters in Shibuya.

INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto (!Non-Defected), Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Ino Takuma, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

WARNINGS - mature themes, foul language, mentions of death, explicit death, gore, canon JJK violence, mental breakdowns, mass murder

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"Hey, hey. Take a breath for me," Gojo says softly to you, his thumbs smoothing over the skin just beneath your eyes. You're panicking in his arms, eyes flickering wildly about. Your body is shaking in his hold, fear radiating off of you in frantic waves.  

Even with his soft-spoken command, you can't. The ability to breathe feels like it's been ripped out from underneath your feet, replaced instead by sharpened inhales that only make your head spin and your throat burn. The feeling of his skin on your own, while it would've calmed you in any other situation, seemed to only make you feel worse.  

"Satoru," you try to bite out, but his name comes out like a breathy plea. His shoulders sag, the eyes behind his blindfold softening as he watches you descend into your own mind. He's just as scared as you are – walking into that veil was the exact same as walking into the belly of an angered beast.  

He didn't want to do it, and hell he wished that you would've stayed home where at least he knew that you were safe. But duty called … duty always called. "Honey, you have to breathe. Take a breath." 

Though you struggle, you inhale shakily. Gojo nods at you, encouraging you to take another breath. His shoulders raise in an emphasized show of breathing, which he only lowers once he sees your body mimicking the movement of his own.  

"There you go--" 

Gojo's words fall dead on his tongue as you tug his body against your own, arms winding around his waist and holding him in a bone-crushing embrace. In any other situation, he would've laughed at you – teased you even. But this time, he doesn’t.  

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you against him while his cheek lays against the top of your head. He sighs, feeling you shake against him as you conceal your crying into his chest, sobs caught by the thickened fabric of the shirt that he wears.  

"Promise me that you'll come back," you whisper, voice barely audible, but he hears you. Gojo sighs, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his. Your hands shakily lift, pushing up his blindfold to see that his eyes shine with tears just like yours do. "Promise me 'toru." 

He smiles tearfully at you, nodding his head and craning his neck to place a loving kiss against your forehead. He lingers there for a moment, feeling you sigh against him as you close your eyes.  

"I promise." 

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), c'mon, answer me!" Geto must sound like a madman to the sorcerers' that accompany him, but their opinion of him holds no importance – not when he can't find you. 

Your phone had gone dead the moment that you entered the station, which he had expected and anticipated. But it didn't make his heart sink any less when he suddenly couldn't reach you. That meant that he wasn't sure if you were safe, or if you were even alive.  

And now, with an entire portion of the station infested with transfigured humans, Geto had one singular goal. That was to find you and get the fuck out of Shibuya, mission be damned. 

So he sprinted through the train station in a manner akin to a rabid animal, tearing through anything that stood in his path with whatever curse he was able to conjure up. It felt like he had been caught in tunnel vision, only able to see in front of him – all he wanted was to make sure that you were safe. 

"(Y/N)! Thank God, there you--" He pauses, his breath catching in his throat. It feels like he's been punched in the gut. His body stands rigid, eyes widening slowly at the sight that lies in front of him.  

You're there, you're right there in front of him. But your body is held in the hands of a transfigured curse, one with devilish eyes and a wicked smile that quickly burns itself into Geto's memory. He'd never forget that smile, ever.  

Weakly, your head turns so that your gaze meets his. "Suguru," is the only word that you're able to muster up in your current state. The freakishly large hand around you tightens, and with a painful grimace, you're gone before Geto could even process what was happening.  

And he stands there, eyes wide and body stiff, mirroring a position that he stood in years and years ago. 

"Kento …?" Your heart sinks as you slowly approach your husband's back, feeling your chest tighten in fear at the curse that stands behind him, hand raised – Mahito.  

Nanami's spine momentarily straightens at the sound of your voice, head turning just enough that he could watch you walk closer out of the corner of his eye. He wants to open his mouth to tell you to run, to reunite with the others and save yourself. But selfishly, he doesn't. 

He waits until you walk completely into view, shocked that Mahito even lets you. He had expected the child-like curse to round on you and promptly blow you to oblivion in front of his very eyes. He looks tired, exhausted even. You soften, tears already pricking at your eyes. 

"(Y/N)," he murmurs in that silky voice that always had the ability to make you weak. Even now, in a moment where you know that you were both completely and utterly doomed, you smile. Sure, it's a weak little quirk of your lips, but Nanami feels his heart soar at the sight of it.  

You shake your head, eyes flickering between your husband's and Mahito's, struggling to focus on one. Shakily, you lift your arms, readying yourself to attack Mahito. Even as you shake underneath your own fear, you still try to protect him – even if was in vain. 

"I love you," Nanami says to you, breaking your focus on Mahito and returning it to himself. Teary (E/C) eyes flicker to meet dulled hazel, and again, Nanami smiles. Your chest tightens, coiling with guilt over the lack of control that you had over the situation. "I love you … so much." 

"Kento," you breathe out, tears slipping down your cheeks. "I love you too, but--" 

Mahito doesn't let you finish your thought, and in a flash of crimson, Nanami is gone. Your eyes widen, your body stands as still as stone. The curse only smiles, then rounding on you. You exhale shakily, eyes flickering down to what's left of your husband before Mahito's palm hovers in front of your face. 

With closed eyes, you accept your fate. 

"You better fucking be here," you murmur to yourself, skidding on your heels and sprinting through the empty train station. Apart from your ragged breathing, the only sounds that fill your ears are the distant screams of the innocent and the garbled communication between curses.  

Halfway through a one-on-one fight with a low-grade curse, you had felt a prickle of energy across your skin. It was energy that you were familiar with, one that you had committed to memory for occasions just like the one that you were currently living through.  

The moment you felt it, you followed it. Choso. 

You nearly roll your ankle as you skid to a stop, eyes having caught sight of what you had been so desperately searching for. He’s looking around for you just like you had been for him, and the moment your eyes meet, you’re running at each other.  

His arms are around you the moment that you brush against him, tugging you against his chest and burying his nose into your hair.  

You don’t mind being crushed against him, not when you had been out-of-your-mind worried about him since you’d stepped foot in the Shibuya station. 

“(Y/N),” Choso murmurs into your hair, squeezing you tighter as he screws his eyes shut. Your nails bite into his back, bunching up the fabric of his shirt. He doesn’t care, he truly doesn’t. Not when you were safe, not when you were breathing.   

“I’m here Choso, and I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, voice muffled by the thickened fabric of his shirt. His arms squeeze you again, and a comfortable silence falls over the both of you.  

You could both go home and hopefully, just hopefully, you could forget about Shibuya entirely. 

It had been years, fucking years, since you heard that voice. Years since you’d heard that snarky voice either insulting you or telling you that he loved you — there was never a healthy in-between.  

And now, you were standing in front of him. Your ears were hearing his voice, your eyes were seeing his face. Toji fucking Fushiguro. 

But unlike the other times that you had seen him, this encounter was drastically different. He was trying to kill you, not bed you. 

“Toji?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, watching as the broad man stalks you like a lion would its prey. “Toji? What’s …?” Your words fall dead as he swipes at you, fingers closed around the handle of a weapon that you definitely didn't know the name of.  

You jerk back away from him, widened eyes flickering up between the weapon in his hands and his face – which for some odd reason remains blank; you can't read him at all. His eyes are a void, his expression completely void of anything that might even entertain the idea that he was human.  

With every time he lunges at you, you retaliate by taking a quick step back. Your eyes flicker up to Toji's face, and for a fleeting moment both of your eyes meet. His entire body freezes, eyes staring into your own as if you were an alien. The weapon that had been pressed against your chest is pulled away from you so swiftly that you barely process the movement.  

"Toji what the fuck--" 

"(Y/N)." The utterance of your name had you pausing, watching him as he straightened up, rising to his full height. The eyes that once looked like two small black voids are full of life now, their irises that very same color that you once spent hours lovingly staring into.  

How is it that he looked exactly the same as the day you lost him? 

You don't say anything as he steps towards you, his hands dropping the weapon that he had been holding so tightly onto just a moment before. Those same, calloused hands cup either side of your face, holding it just as tenderly as you had remembered.  

You don't know when, but at some point your eyes welled up with tears – tears that Toji thumbs away. He stares down so softly at you, a stark contrast to the hatred that had filled his eyes just seconds before. This was the Toji you remembered, not whatever had attacked you. 

There were very few things that you feared in the world. Being a sorcerer had done that to you, had worn down your ability to feel true, genuine fear. But now? Right now? 

All you felt was icy fear searing through your body as if someone had dunked you naked into an ice bath.  

There was an endless pit where an endless pit definitely should not have been. And standing over it was the one person you had trusted with your life, even if trusting him meant simultaneously putting yourself in immense danger every time that you spent a moment with him.  

His hands are in his pockets, his eyes staring out over the destruction that he had caused with a proud smirk etched into his face. He holds no remorse, you know that he doesn't, but the calmness of his demeanor only adds to your fear.  

"Ryo …?" Your voice is laced with hesitance as you approach his back, legs shaking with each step that you decide to take. He doesn't turn completely to face you, but you notice the small nod of his head in your direction. "What … what did you do?" 

Sukuna sighs – a long and heavy breath that is riddled with pride over his actions. The lives that were potentially lost amidst his destruction meant nothing to him, and they would never mean anything to him.  

"I had my fun," he says plainly, turning completely to face you. He spares you no reaction even though he can so clearly see the fear painted onto your face. It makes him smirk, the tip of his nail running along the underside of your jaw. "Come now, I'm not quite finished with this body yet." 

You shiver as Sukuna walks past you, tearing your gaze away from the gaping hole right smack in the center of Shibuya. You didn't even want to begin to think about the lives that had been lost, how painful and slow their deaths must've been. How much did they scream? How many of them begged for mercy? 

You shake your head, dispelling those thoughts. Hesitantly, you turn to glance at Sukuna, noticing that he had stopped — waiting for you to join his side. You bite your lip, and regretfully, you move to follow him.  

“Hey, there you are. Someone’s been asking for you,” Shoko says with a barely-there smile as you sit up. Immediately, a dull ache douses over your body like someone had dunked you underwater. You groan lightly, pressing a palm against your forehead and glancing up at Shoko.  

“Really?” you murmur weakly, rolling your shoulders as Shoko takes a step back. Ino stands behind her, his arms and legs bandaged just like yours were. His face morphs into relief as your eyes meet his — and even though he stumbles over his own feet, he beelines for you.  

He’s careful not to accidentally upset any of your injuries as he tugs you into his arms, crushing you against his chest and burying his nose into your hair. He can feel you shudder against him, your own arms returning his bone-crushing embrace with one of his own. 

“You’re okay. Holy fuck you’re okay,” Ino murmurs into your hair, barely registering your hands as they comfortingly rub up and down the length of his spine.  

“Yeah,” you whisper into his chest, voice barely audible over the thickened fabric of his shirt. “Yeah, I’m okay.”  

Ino squeezes you tighter, then allowing you to pull away. His hands cup your face, thumbing away the tears that roll down your cheeks. He smiles, and his heart soars when you mirror it. Ino is quick to lean in, lips pressing to yours.  

You return his kiss immediately, leaning impossibly further into him and chasing his lips with your own. He breaks from you, much to your dismay, and leans his forehead onto yours. You can feel his shaky sigh as it fans out over your face, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of his skin against your own.  

"Don't go anywhere." Ino's voice shakes as he speaks to you, the grip that he has over you momentarily tightening as he tugs you against him. You sigh, returning his embrace just as tightly and burying your face away into his shoulder.  

"Yuuji? Yuuji!"  

He turns at the sound of your voice, ears perked like a curious puppy. The tears sliding down his cheeks feel as though they've paused at the sight of you – stumbling over your feet as you reach him. The moment you do, your arms are locked around his neck, throwing yourself against him with enough force that he stumbles back. 

He hesitates, hands shaking as they hover above the small of your back. Do you even know what happened? Could he tell you? 

You pause at the feeling of his body trembling against your own. His arms were locked at his sides as if he had lost all ability to even use them. You slowly take a step back from him, noticing the faraway look glazed over his eyes and the way that he struggles to focus on one single thing – including you.  

Hesitantly, you lift your hands to his cheeks, palms laying against his skin. Your touch almost immediately brings him back to reality; you can see it in the way that his eyes snap to meet your gaze, wide and slightly fearful. But not scared of you, rather, scared of himself.  

"Hey, what's--" 

"Don't. Please don't," he interrupts you, shaking his head against your hands. His palms lift to lay over your own, fingers squeezing you in a way that silently begged you not to leave. You nod, steering his head down to yours so that your forehead can lightly rest against his own.  

Wordlessly, you nod. Your hands shift in position, arms wrapping around his neck again and bringing his body back to your own. His hands immediately go to bunch up the back of your shirt, fingers curling into the fabric in a way that screams 'Don't leave me'.  

And you don't. You stand there, closing your eyes and letting Yuuji cling to you as if you were the last bit of what could keep him sane – and in a way, that was exactly what you were. To Yuuji, you were a lifeline – a resemblance of the humanity that he continued to throw away the more that he switched with Sukuna. 

"I'm right here Yuuji," you whisper into his shoulder, receiving a loving squeeze in response to your words. "And I'm not going anywhere." 

“Promise me you’ll come back safe,” you say, squeezing Megumi’s hands and blinking back the tears that had slowly begun to gather along your waterline. He sighs, reaching one of his hands up to lightly cup the back of your head.  

He brings your forehead to his own, closing his eyes the moment that his skin comes into contact with your own. He can feel you shudder against him, a shaky sigh falling from your nose. “I promise you … with everything I have in me, I promise you.” 

But that had been hours ago, and you had no idea if Megumi was safe. You had separated from him shortly after that conversation, with you joining Nobara and Nitta and Megumi going off to find Yuuji. In the two hours that you spent fighting against curses and transfigured humans, you hadn’t heard anything about any of the others — including Megumi. 

“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s with Yuuji after all, isn’t he?” Nobara says reassuringly to you, nudging your shoulder with her own. You turn to glance at her, swallowing the lump in your throat and forcing your head up and down in a nod.  

“Yeah … I guess so,” you answer hesitantly, smiling weakly as Nitta places a comforting hand on your shoulder. The three of you continue walking, a comfortable yet uncomfortable silence falling over your heads. Surrounding you are the sounds of a distant chaos, bystanders scream, transfigured humans gurgle out grotesque noises — reality doesn’t quite feel like reality.  

You pause at the sound of something approaching you, both Nobara and Nitta stopping as well. Three pairs of eyes gaze down a darkened alleyway, and your heart stops at what waits at the alleyway’s end. 

Megumi’s Divine Dog. 

Its ears prick upward at the sight of you, eyes fixed on you in the darkness. Its tail flicks back and forth before it approaches you, not stopping until it nudges its head into the palm of your hand. You scratch lightly behind its ears, eyes flickering to Nobara.  

“You both need to go … I need to find—“ 

“No way. What if something happens to you too?” Nobara interrupts you, reaching out and clasping your shoulders. The shikigami barks angrily in Nobara’s direction, protectively stepping in front of you and making the brunette stumble back.  

“Nobara, I can’t just leave him where he is,” you insist, blinking back tears. “I have to. I have to go and find Megumi.” 

Nobara shakes her head again, and instead, she pulls you into her arms. You still, glancing at Nitta, who only looks away. “You can’t (Y/N).” 

“He sent the dog to make sure that you don’t look for him.” 

Promised Protector

Sypnosis - When a particularly pushy Araj begins to make Astarion revert to a past self that he had been trying so desperately to grow from, it leaves you to step in. It leaves Astarion with a small realization -- you did care for him, really truly cared for him.

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, mentions of abuse (physical and sexual), Araj being an ass, slightly OOC Astarion

Word Count - 1.8k

A/N - Trying my hand at BG3 fanfiction. I have yet to actually play the game, so I'm going purely based off of the playthroughs of others and random clips that I've found sprinkled around YouTube. I do plan to write more for this little vampiric shit, so y'all can leave requests for him as well!

“Must we be here darling? I’m not rather fond of dungeons with … medieval torture devices.”

You bite back the breathy chuckle in your throat as you continue forward, eyes expertly searching your surroundings to ensure that no creature in the dark would ambush you or Astarion. 

“For a creature that usually prefers the dark, you’re quite the complainer,” you bite back, tilting your head to cast a glance at the vampire over your shoulder. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shooting you a warning glare – one that you laugh off. 

“And for a creature as clumsy as yourself, you’re doing quite well in avoiding any potential traps.” Astarion’s eyebrow raises as you now shoot him a glare. His shoulders rise and fall in a nonchalant shrug as he moves to walk in sync with you, scarlet eyes scanning his surroundings before they allow themselves to return to you.

“I am not clumsy. It was one time,” you roll your eyes, continuing forward and clenching your jaw as Astarion dares to chuckle at your side. “Rich coming from the one who threw a tantrum even after I revived him.”

“Darling, need I remind you that you dropped an entire building on my head?” Astarion whips his head to the side to face you, his eyes narrowed now in a pointed glare that only brings a wide smile to your face. In any other situation, he too would have smiled simply at the sight of your own, but your revealed teeth only make his chest twist in faux anger. 

“And need I remind you that it was an accident?” 

“In what world is dropping a building on someone an accident?” Astarion murmurs under his breath, stopping when you do. Your eyes flicker to a figure standing just a few feet in front of you – a drow. 

She turns as your footsteps and Astarion’s become more audible, curiosity painting itself onto your face as you both approach. Her eyebrows raise, and you’re not sure if her expression is one of intrigue. 

“Hello,” you say politely, bowing your head in greeting as the drow eyes you curiously, irises raking over the entirety of your figure before they curiously flicker to peer at Astarion. 

“Araj Obladra, a pleasure,” the drow returns just as politely as you, her head dipping in the same bow that you had offered her. “How nice it is to stand in the presence of a True Soul … and her paled companion.”

Astarion’s eyes roll at the nickname, you catch it just out of the corner of your eye. But you choose to ignore it for the sake of not wanting to stir up any unnecessary drama – you had come to Araj for a reason, after all. 

“I’ve traveled to inquire about your services if you’re willing to provide them,” you explain, already noticing a glint in Araj’s eye. You’re not quite sure what expression it’s meant to convey, but from the way that she shifts from one foot to another, your gut tells you that it may not be the most positive. 

Another thing you notice … how her gaze continuously flickers to Astarion. 

“But of course,” Araj replies without hesitation, angling her body so that it faces Astarion rather than you. Your eyes narrow, brows momentarily pinching together. Just what was she playing at?

“You seem … interested in my pale friend here,” you think aloud, immediately wishing that you could swallow your words the moment that you register both Astarion and Araj’s reactions. 

“It is not every day that one encounters a vampire spawn,” Araj notes, the term bringing a disgusting taste to Astarion’s tongue. His nose scrunches in that same disgust, and for a moment, a flicker of anger dares to flare up within the depths of your chest. “After all, in exchange for blood, I craft potions.”

A hum rumbles in your throat, though you say nothing. Araj continues, choosing to ignore the expression you wear – the anger that you so clearly display. 

“All I truly need is a single drop, and then whatever potion you require … well, I can brew it,” she explains, finally moving from where she stands to circle you and Astarion. It reminds you of a predatory lion, one with slit-like pupils that eyes its prey before promptly pouncing on it. 

“And with the rest of it?” you prompt with a raise of your eyebrow. “My blood, I mean.”

“I shall keep it for myself … other potions need to be crafted, as you well know.”

She steps forward, extending her hand and holding her palm out to you. For a moment, you simply think, pondering whether or not you should even trust the drow – especially considering how her eyes still dared to flicker to Astarion. Why was she so interested in him?

You can sense Astarion’s worry from over your shoulder, the feeling rippling off of him like rolling ocean waves. But even with it, you lay your palm over Araj’s. 

“There, finished,” Araj says, already stepping back from you the moment that your skin comes into contact with her own. Her eyes, once again, meet Astarion’s. 

“And now wh—“

Araj’s attention turns completely now to Astarion, who momentarily falters underneath her gaze. His worry for you morphs silently into disgust directed at the drow. 

“There’s still much to discuss,” Araj comments, a smirk just barely pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Such as your paled companion.”

Astarion glances at you, and in return, he’s met with an expression of suppressed anger and jealousy — that would be a conversation for later, he dictates. 

“He’s a vampire, is he not? Or vampire spawn?” Araj’s eyes wander over Astarion, drifting down his entire body and ignoring the way that his eyes narrow in a glare at her. She turns then back to you, once again choosing to ignore the fury that glints in the depths of your eyes. 

“He belongs to you, am I correct?”

If you weren’t angry before, you were now. Your eyes flicker to Astarion, his expression a mixture of hurt and shock – it was one that you had never seen him wear before, and with the way it made your heart positively crack, you never wanted to see it again. 

“The last I checked, he was his own person,” you turn to Araj angrily, “he does not belong to anyone.” 

Araj bites back the chuckle that threatens to crawl up her throat, lifting a hand in front of her mouth as she laughs breathily into the skin of her palm. Your teeth grind against each other, jaw setting into place as the drow regains herself. 

“Oh, you were serious?” Her eyebrow lifts, the sight of it taking everything in you to not lunge at her and promptly wedge the blade of your dagger into the skin of her neck. “It’s adorable really … if he truly believes you, that is.”

Astarion swears he could hear one of your teeth chip with how roughly you set your jaw into place. His eyes wander down to your hands, taking note of how they clench into white-knuckled fists. Your fingers itch towards the blade in its holster, but you fight the urge to remove it. 

“Does your spawn have a name?” Araj shifts her attention back to Astarion, eyeing him once again. He opens his mouth to speak, but with a speed that feels almost inhuman, you answer for him. 

“His name is Astarion, and if you dare to call him my spawn again, I will surely–”

“Now, now darling!” Astarion’s hand closes around your mouth, palm pressing to your lips as he flashes you a too-sweet smile – hoping to whatever God was above him that you wouldn’t turn your anger onto him and plunge a dagger between his eyebrows. “Let’s be civil, yes?”

You bite back the angered insult that bubbles up in your chest, swallowing your words and settling back on your feet. Astarion nods, slowly removing his hand from your mouth before he turns to Araj.

“It’s been quite the dream of mine, being bit by a vampire … spawn or the like,” Araj explains, her tone taking on an almost dream-like lull. You can already feel the bile rising in your throat.

And it seems that Astarion shares your sentiment, what with the way that his eyebrows raised and his lips curled in that adorable little scowl. 

“I’ll have to decline,” Astarion is quick to answer, shaking his head and taking a tentative step away from Araj, almost as if he’s trying to hide his body behind your own. You allow it, going so far as to then sidestep him and stand protectively in front of him – an action that he smiles gently at. 

“I’ll compensate–”

“He said no, thank you very much,” you butt in, glaring down your nose at the overbearing drow. She falters on her feet for a moment, but just as quickly, she recollects herself. “We’ll be going now.”

You turn on your heel, reaching swiftly for Astarion’s hand before promptly leaving – not once sparing a glance to the disappointed drow over your shoulder. 

< … >

“Darling?” Astarion hesitantly lifts the flap of your tent, ducking beneath it and entering. You hum from where you sit at your desk, tilting your head slightly to show your acknowledgment. “Are you alright? Your lively presence was missed. You left me to deal with … them … on my own.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you turn in your seat to look at Astarion. At the sight of your face, he falters, his expression softening. 

“You’re still upset over that vile drow, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am Astarion!” you rise from your place, throwing your hands up. He flinches, not having expected a violent outburst from you. 

“She … she thought that I had ownership of you! All because of what, the fact that you’re a spawn and not a vampire? The nerve of some creatures disgusts me! I mean honestly–!”

“Darling.”

You pause, head lifting so that your gaze finally meets Astarion’s awaiting gaze. His eyes are soft as they gaze at you, lips turned upward in a smile of equal softness. He approaches you, offering his hands to you – which you take without hesitation. 

“I want you to know that I … appreciate what you did for me today,” Astarion admits quietly, speaking low enough that you could barely hear him. “It has been many years since I was able to choose my own.”

You soften, squeezing at his hands. “Astarion, you deserve to have your own voice. Nobody should be able to control what you do besides … well … you.”

He draws you closer to his chest, arms locking around your waist as his face buries itself into your hair. You chuckle lightly, returning his embrace and laying your face against his shoulder. 

For 200 years, Astarion had never known the sound of his own voice. 

But now?

Now he knew the sound of it, and he knew that it mattered. 

hihi! im a newer follower of yours, so I apologise if you've already done this, but if you haven't would you mind doing an smau of the jjk men if their child took their phone/ took your phone? no pressure at all, and thanks! your writing is amazing :)

Phone Thief

Includes - Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna

erm hi!! is it okay if i use your idea of photographer!ino for a modern!au fic i plan on making??

hi!! yes that’s completely fine, just do tag me in it, i’d love to see it!!

Can we pretty please have Sukuna reacting to his crush telling him that thier lover cheated on them. Like the reader has been in a relationship with this person for a few months.

Would he comfort her? At all?

Also can I be‼️ anon

Sypnosis - He may be heartless, that doesn't mean he'll stand silently by and watch as you get yours broken.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, Sukuna is nice for once (?)

A/N - First time ever writing for Sukuna -- wish me luck! And yes, you can be that anon, I love you guys.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"Brat, wipe those tears, you look pathetic," Sukuna says coldly, sneering at the sight of your tears running down your cheeks. You quickly lift your wrist, roughly rubbing the water from your eyes and turning yourself away from him.  

At the sight of you turning, oddly enough, he feels a strange sensation somewhere in his chest – what was it though? All he knew was that it wasn't anger, no, he couldn't find it in himself to be angry at you in that moment (shockingly).  

"Sorry," you mumble, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip in an attempt to silence your sobs, but the action does very little to prevent the shaking of your body. Sukuna notices, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.  

His head tilts at you; you had come to Yuuji asking for a movie night and snacks, which wasn't out of the ordinary. But what was out of the ordinary was that you showed up on Yuuji's doorstep crying.  

The fact that Yuuji relinquished control to Sukuna so easily was also shocking – but Sukuna was never one to complain about having control over what was rightfully his vessel.  

He lets out a small "tch" at your apology, turning himself away from you and crossing his arms over his chest. Some part of him wants to turn back around and inquire about what had happened – but at the same time he could genuinely care less. 

You remain silent in your place on the couch, knees curled up to your chest as you keep your watery eyes focused on the television, which plays a repeat of an old rom-com that you mentioned that you enjoyed. But from what Sukuna could see, the sight of the two main leads being happily in love is only worsening your mood – but why? 

Usually you would be smiling and chipper, pointing out everything that the male lead did for the female with a too-sweet smile plastered onto your face. But now you were just staring at the screen with a look that Sukuna couldn't describe – and he despised it.  

`"What's going on? You're never this silent, I detest it," Sukuna comments, angrily scrunching his nose as he turns sharply to glance at you. Your hands tighten over your knees, eyebrows pinching together as you bite back the fresh round of tears that cling to your lash line.  

"Nothin' happened. Jus' wanted to come over and watch a movie," you lie through your teeth, voice slightly muffled from where you keep your mouth pressed against your clothed legs. Sukuna clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, glaring at you.  

"Liar." 

"I'm not lying." 

"You are. I only know because you're fucking terrible at it," Sukuna spits, furrowing his eyebrows together in frustration as you look away from him again. Your eyes water, and you lift your wrist to swipe away the tears before they have the chance to fall – remembering what Sukuna had just said about them rendering you 'pathetic'.  

"Nothin' happened. Even if something did, why would it matter to you?" Your voice is laced with a bitterness that Sukuna hadn't heard in you before – and honestly, he didn't think that you were capable of sounding so cold.  

"It doesn't. I just don't wanna deal with your sulking," Sukuna rolls his eyes, resting his cheek against his knuckles as he sneaks another glance at you. You seem to sink further into the couch – there's that sensation again. What the fuck was it? 

You remain silent, keeping your eyes fixed on the movie, which is nearing its conclusion. The male lead tenderly reaches for the female, holding her face and steering her lips to his own. Sukuna notices your nails digging into your legs, no doubt leaving behind angry red marks that you would complain about later.  

"So talk." 

You glance at Sukuna, narrowing your eyes at the unfamiliar tenderness that flickers in his irises. Your eyes involuntarily water, eyebrows furrowing together as you look back to the television screen.  

"Nothin'. My boyfriend – he just, y'know, got bored of me. Guess my best friend looked better," you explain offhandedly, obviously trying to downplay the situation for the sake of not working yourself up. But Sukuna could tell that the situation deeply bothered you, judging by the way you blink back your tears and curl your arms impossibly tighter around your legs.  

Sukuna's hands subconsciously curl into white-knuckled fists, anger flaring up in his chest as he mulls your words over in his head. He shocks himself – why did he care so much about what happened to you? Why did he suddenly have the overwhelming urge to strangle the life out of your now ex-boyfriend? 

"He what?" Sukuna all but growls, turning his head to settle all of his attention on you. You, however, don't spare him another glance, not wanting to see his mocking expression or the smirk that he's most definitely wearing in response to your sadness.  

A shame that if you had looked up, you would see the genuine anger that Sukuna displays.  

"Wasn't slick about it either, but it's whatever," you say with faux indifference, shrugging your shoulders. You sigh shakily, tears slipping down your cheeks as the movie in front of you ends. "It's whatever Sukuna." 

"It can't be whatever if you're staining the couch with tears," Sukuna bites back, glaring at you – though his anger is very clearly directed elsewhere. You let out a shaky sigh through your nose, not wanting to discuss the situation further.  

"Well it is whatever, so fucking drop it," you growl out, voice wavering slightly as you reach for the television remote, flicking through channels until you land on some random documentary, opting to leave it on for background noise. 

Sukuna grumbles something incoherent, lifting his legs to cross them over one another as he sits silently on the couch across from you. Every now and then, his eyes flicker to sneak glances at you, taking mental notes of your body language and facial expressions.  

"I'm...sorry that he did that to you," Sukuna grumbles out, his voice at a volume that you nearly miss. The tenderness in his voice is so foreign, but at the same it sounds so natural coming from him – almost like he had rehearsed this very scene a thousand times over in his head.  

You sit there stunned for a moment, not having expected Sukuna to be offering you his condolences. In truth, you didn't need them, nor did you want them – but the fact that he had softened up for a passing moment to say those words to you brought a little bought of warmth to your stomach.  

"It's whatever," you say again, this time with a bit more indifference than before. Sukuna finds himself smirking, which he tries to hide but to no real avail – you catch it just before it fades away.  

He'll pay your ex-boyfriend a visit later, right now, he wants you to keep that barely there smile on your face. 

Choso is attached to your hip in a way that a cat is attached to his owner — but it leads to a little tradition that you can pinpoint as your favorite. 

“Cho? I’m going to shower honey, are you coming?”  

Choso glances up at you from his place on the couch, standing from its cushions and immediately following you into the bathroom.  

You smile, placing down your folded clothes on the sink and closing the toilet seat. At the sound of clinking porcelain, Choso takes his designated seat, crossing his legs and watching you intently. 

“So, how was your movie night with Yuuji?” you ask, stripping yourself of your clothes and turning on the shower. Choso hums, smiling for a flicker of a second before he begins to ramble. 

You extend your hand to check the temperature of your shower, still listening to your boyfriend as he recounts his day with Yuuji.  

“He really enjoys those movies, I do not, but they make him happy,” Choso says, shuddering at the remembrance of the movie that Yuuji had shown him. 

You chuckle, stepping into the shower. 

And even after your shower, Choso sits patiently and watches as you towel dry your hair and brush through it. Neither of you say a word now — but neither of you mind the silence.  

“Can I help?” Choso offers, extending his hand towards the hair dryer. You smile at him, allowing him to take it from you as he stands to his full height. He hums, threading his fingers through your hair before taking your hairbrush, drying your hair in the exact same way that he had watched you do it.  

This was your little routine, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.