“𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒, 𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹” ft. prisoner! sukuna x psychologist! reader

— you’ve been assigned to the supposed most ‘dangerous’ prisoner, sukuna. but what happens when you two start to fall for each other instead?

✧ cw: smut, quick paced, semi public sex, risky sex, choking, kissing, pussy eating, blow jobs, breeding, creampie, fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, age gap

✧ wc: 4.7k

✧ a/n: i am not a doctor and i am especially not specialized in psychology. i have made up all of this. also don’t sleep with murderers unless it’s sukuna

Your heels clicked loudly on the stained prison tiles. The echo of your soft footsteps trailing along the narrow walls of the enclosed hallway.

Sukuna.

That was the prisoner you were assigned to. A man who had killed more people than you’d met in your entire life as a doctor, a psychologist at that. So you’d met a lot of people.

Two guards trailed closely behind you, glaring warningly at the inmates who smirked as you walked past the line of cells. A collection of whistles and cheers sounding at the mere sight of a woman as attractive as yourself.

AKATSUKI NO YONA (2009-?) by kusanagi mizuho

au where sukuna exists in megumi's body for quite a while so even without forced transformation it eventually grows similar to sukuna's true form (in progress)

tjkn.

Midnight rooftops

@vampyrsm

Soaked nightmare - Part 2

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Your words die on your tongue, your hands safely in Sukunas grip as gentle crimson eyes look up at you. Because he needs you he says, because he loves you he says. He didn’t need you that day, he made it abundantly clear how fine he was without you nagging at him. But he misses you, he’d do anything to have you back. Whatever the cost.

“You don’t need me, don’t be ridiculous.”

“How do ya know that I don’t?”

“You made it pretty clear, Sukuna.”

“Am i not being clear now?” He asks, inked arm hooking around your waist as he brings you closer. His inked fingers are splayed on your lower back, his forehead on your abdomen as he shuts his eyes tight. “I need ya, damnit.” He breathes out, fingers curling around the fabric of your pajamas as his brows furrow. He hates you being this wisp of smoke, hates that he can never fully have you in his hands. He hates that he knows you’re contemplating whether to pull away or not.

“You don’t.” You sigh, arms at your sides, frozen at his gentle touch. You’ve almost forgotten. Forgotten how he holds you like fine china, like you’re a piece of porcelain. He holds you like you’re precious, the most important thing to him. And you are, to your dismay.

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Why won’t you just listen to me?” He sneers, arm tightening around you as he speaks. Damn you and your beautiful hard headedness. Hes being so clear, he needs you, point blank. “M’ a fucking mess withoutcha, can’t you tell?” He spits out, words a mix of sheer desperation and the tiniest sliver of anger. He’s trying so hard to be sweet, but maybe he needs to yell to get this in your head.

“I know i put my hands on ya, hell, you probably don’t want to hear shit from me.” He whispers, head resting against you as he tries to quell the loud voice in his head telling him to just shove his words down your throat, or his tongue, and make you listen. “Still ain’t over what we had, still miss wakin’ up to your pretty face.” He scoffs, relishing in the closeness between you two. He’s missed your warmth, missed being able to admit how much of a monster he is and being met with nothing but boundless empathy. He missed everything about you, found himself daydreaming of you like a teenager. You as his wife, you at the beach, at your honeymoon, painting a nursery, going on dates, anything.

“This isn’t proving your point. As i said—you’re hurting and you miss me. You don’t need me.”

“Tch.” Sukuna clicked his tongue in frustration, a voice like sandpaper sounding so gentle towards you it’s surprising. “Thats bullshit. Since when have i not needed ya?” He says, voice falling quiet as he’s at a loss for words. He’s never been good with words before. He’d kiss you to show you how much he’s missed you, but thats not right for the moment. He’d fuck you to show you how much he yearns for you, but it’s not the time for that. He doesn’t know what the time for anything is anymore.

“Sukuna—“

“‘M not good at this mushy shit,” he admits lowly, a hand going through his now dry pink locks. Taking a shuddering breath, he tilts his head up to meet your gaze. “I fucked up real bad, never shoud’ve put my hands on ya, baby.” He says, scarred knuckles against his lips to prevent any profanities from spilling out. Not towards you, no. Towards himself, but he knows how much you hate when he gets into that self-deprecating state. He decides its best to just say what hes thinking.

“Im drinking,” he blurts out abruptly. If he gets you concerned, maybe he can guilt trip you a little into coming back. He knows it’s wrong, but he really is drinking, he needs you. Needs you to yell at him and scold him.

“Again? Why?” You chide, hands on his shoulders as you involuntarily squeeze his tense muscles, earning a soft groan from Sukuna. “I thought you quit.”

“I did, for a time.” He shrugs his shoulders, his nonchalant demeanor betraying the level of shit he’s going through all by his own accord. “But fuck, when it gets cold and dark out, i cant think of shit but you.” He mumbles against your skin, lowering his head in a weird shame. He wants to crawl in your skin and never leave, he wants to pull your shirt up, shove his head underneath it and fall asleep just like that. “You were with me when no one else was…to give a shit whether i lived or died.” He confesses, voice shaky as he clutches onto you like you’re his lifeline. He’s leaving his cracked, vile and filthy heart in your pristine hands to see if he’ll feel any semblance of tranquility, even for a moment.

“Sukuna, people do give a shit, not just me. Your brother’s, they’d be crushed if something happened to you.” You say softly, getting the hint of his current state. He’s struggling, struggling with the guilt of losing you, the one person who he believes saw him.

“Brothers got their own shit to do. Barely see ‘em as is lately.” He mumbles, voice hoarse like he’s ripping the words from his throat instead of speaking. “Choso’s in college, Yuujis in high-school havin’ the time of his life—“ Sukuna sighs, breath shaky as he speaks. “It’s different, they’re my brothers.” He says. “But you… fuck, made me feel like i deserved to be cared for too, y’know?” He scoffs, nearly mocking himself at the sheer stupidity of it all. He drove you away, and now he tosses away his pride just to have you back. “Like maybe… i dunno, i could learn to be better or some shit.”

He presses a hand over his eyes. Trying to ignore the tears threatening to well in his eyes. Your smell, your voice, all of it sends him spiraling. He’s been a mess without you, “im not used to bein’ alone anymore,” he mutters, letting our a deep breath, wrapping both of his arms around you as he breathes steadily. His forehead is rested against your abdomen, large hands holding you infront of him as he basks in your presence like you’re ambrosia breathing divinity into his scarred mortal body.

It was true his brothers cared for him deeply, despite his prickly attitude and tendency to be a little bitch. But you were different. His brothers have no choice than to love him, they’re his family. But you loved him at his worst, chose to look at him voluntarily. You chose him. And it still sucks when on the special occasions he sees his brothers, they ask about you.

How is she?

Haven’t seen her in a while!

You didn’t argue, did you?

You look sad, something happen with your girlfriend?

“You’re clinging onto the past, you’ve gotta look forward.” You say, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as you give him a little pat. He needs it. But he cant look forward, not when you are the thing he looks back at.

You’re his Eurydice, he can’t help but look back. When the love of his life is gone and he remain the same monster, how could he ever remain looking forward when your steps grown quiet, when he cannot tell if hes actually getting you back, or being led forward without you? Being tricked to live life without your presence. Who is Orpheus without his Eurydice?

“Past is all i got,” Sukuna utters, looking up between curtains of pink hair as his eyes your face. “That’s where you are.” He say, nuzzling his face into you abdomen as he breathes you in. God, he wants you back. He’d sever his own hands just to make sure he never hurt you again, anything to ensure you felt comfortable with him again.

The silence gnaws at him, he senses your apprehension, towards him, towards what he’s implying. He’s such a mess. He feels like a dog, an animal. Whats that one saying? Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Why the hell did he do that? Hurt the one thing keeping him tethered to this stupid place. He can’t put into words how he used to feel when he gazed at you. Saw a million lives in your eyes, a trillion possibilities, a billion things you could do together.

He doesn’t see anything in his reflection, not a damn thing. He sees the scars, the tattoos, the cold features, the empty gaze. He stands in his bathroom staring at himself, remembering the days you’d come in all sleepy, wrap your arms around his waist, call him handsome and pepper kisses on his shoulder. The only time he ever saw anything in his wretched reflection was when your pretty face was perched on his shoulder with that cheeky smile on your lips.

What is there to Sukuna when there is no you?

“Sukuna, you’ve gotta let go.” You say, your tone exasperated. You’re tired of your heart shattering each time you see him, tired of having to stare at the face of the man you love and deny him. You might just break.

“I know.”

“So why don’t you?”

“Cause’ i can’t. Gotta be yours again, i need it—need you.” He repeats his reasoning for the millionth time, eyes screwed shut, breaths uneven and shallow as he remains there, muscular arms acting like a belt around you.

“Sukuna, i—“ you pause, hands gently finding their rightful place in his hair, making his breath hitch. He lets out a shaky breath, raw and vulnerable. Your mere touch might be enough to derail him, send him begging like a child, on his knees and everything “How will i make sure you won’t get mad again?”

Sukuna tenses at the words, sensing the anxiety behind them. He leans his head up into your touch, “I’ll never lay a hand on ya again,”

“Sukuna that doesn’t—“

“Let ya cut my hands off, i swear to ya.” He utters, the raw tone of his voice stunning you. He’s serious, dead serious. “You’ve got my permission to cut em off if i dare raise a hand to you.” He laughs, finally letting his little quip be evident. Its the thought that counts, right?

“Thats… its not funny.” You say, moving your hands to rest on his broad shoulders, a sour expression on your face.

“Totally funny.”

“Its scary, you’d probably do it.”

“You know me so well, baby.” Sukuna coos, gently taking your hand as he brushes his lips across the tip of each finger. He glances up at you, eyes locked as he speaks once more. “Let me be yours again,” he utters softly, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing the top of your handz

“Ill get better for ya’. I’ll quit drinking, quit the drugs, all of it.”

“Drugs?”

“Did i forget to mention that? My bad, baby.”

“God, you’re a mess.”

“Your mess.” He says with a signature devilish grin, looking up at you as he awaits any words. Any confirmation you’ll be his again. He’s doing his best to get you back, to charm you. He just needs you.

“You promise?”

“Promise what?”

“Promise you’ll be better if i come back.”

“Does that mean you’re comin back to me?”

“Answer the question.”

“I’ll try, can’t handle losin’ ya again.” Sukunas playful tone drops under your caring gaze, only tenderness remaining. “I know i fucked up bad… but I’m willing to do anythin for ya.” He says, choking up as he speaks. The situation is looking up, and he’s nearly moved to tears. He knows damn well what hell do if you take him back.

He’s planned everything out in his head from all the times he was blackout drunk and day dreaming. Hell put a ring on your pretty finger, tie you to him, actually tie you to him. Hell get a better job, make sure you never stress, keep you happy. Quit killing himself, he would never shorten his time with you there. He’d want to live all his years with you, but he’d like to die before you if possible. He wouldn’t be able to see you die. You’re thinking too far into the future, Sukuna.

“Hell, ill quit drinking, quit smoking, just say the word,baby.”

“You’re quitting.”

“Im quitting.”

You smile softly, despite the situation. Big bad Sukuna has returned to your life, softer than ever. But even a bigger mess. “Missed you,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around his neck. You’re taking him back, and Sukuna just melts as soon as the words leave your pretty lips. He catches his breath, arms clutching to pull you close. “Fuck… been dying to hear you say that’” he says, tone shaky as he hugs you tight. Theres no use in him telling you he missed you, he’s made that abundantly clear.

He’s gotten his Eurydice back. He went into the underworld, determined to fetch your soul so you’d be together again. And the tender care in your eyes, the softness of your hands, he can’t express his joy. He loves you, loves you dearly. Hell never leave you again.

This is definitely his wife. Totally his wife. Past, present, future.

He notices it when he walks home, kicking off his shoes as he nearly collapses at the doorstep. “M home.” He calls out to no one in particular, sultry voice ringing out through your cozy apartment as he’s jolted to his senses by a loud clanging noise.

“Hon, you good?” His eyebrows perk up, rushing to the kitchen to investigate the source of the noise. He finds you there, a large pan on the floor thats fallen out of your cabinet. “God, scared me.” He sighs in relief, walking over to you as he picks up the pan in his large hand, putting it on the kitchen counter. You stand there in your little apron, experimenting with your cooking like usual as he approaches you. He pulls you in, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before he melts onto you.

“Tired?”

“Mhm.” He hums, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he remains there, still in uniform.

“Had an arrest today, fucker ran so damn fast i think i dislocated my hip.” He groans, fingers fidgeting with the little bow you tied on the back of your apron. “Was just like how i was a few years ago.”

“Thats why you’re so gloomy?” You inquired softy, your hand going up to carefully caress his cheek, the metal of your wedding band cool against his skin. Even the sight of it on your finger has Sukuna giddy. “Mhm.” He hums once more, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I think i lost my ring.”

“What?!”

“Kidding.” He laughs, pressing more kisses to your face. He likes the shock on your face when he tells you that. It reminds him he’s your husband, you’re his wife, and you don’t play about your wedding rings. He never thought that he would go from being your boyfriend, to a troubled young-adult, to your boyfriend again, than your husband. You saved him, you truly did. Turned that fuck-up of a man into a real person. He’s a cop, he’s a husband, his relationship with his brothers is better than ever—all because of you. His sweet, wonderful, goddesses of a wife.

“I’d never lose our ring. What type of husband would i be then?” He says with a cheeky grin, raising his hand with the matching wedding band. It’s almost stupid how much he likes it. Sometimes you catch Sukuna staring at it without him knowing. “Alright, alright, quit it.” You giggle, swatting his hand away jokingly as you turn back to the kitchen. “Take my bun out of the oven.”

“Yes ma’am.” Your words don’t register in Sukunas head, and he just turns to the oven to take your ‘bun’ out. He can’t catch the wordplay at all. “Hon, this is a loaf.” He says, taking your loaf of regular wheat bread out of the oven in total confusion. “This is a loaf of bread.” He states, “The hell is it in the oven for?”

“Baby. Its a bun.”

“This is clearly a loaf of bread.”

“Sukuna! A bun. A bun in the oven.” You point to the loaf of bread you’ve dubbed a ‘bun’ to emphasize your point. It’s supposed to be a metaphoric bun, because there weren’t any at the grocery store.

“Baby, this is clearly a loaf—“ he says, eyes widening as the realization sets in. A bun in the oven? He turns to you.

“What?”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Boothill vroommm vroommmmm

That shot from the trailer but it's Hero!Touya <3

choso

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h. 

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡GODDESS [g.s x reader]

╰┈➤ pairing: basketball player gojo satoru x fem!ballerina reader

⋆·˚*genre: strangers to friends to more, college au, complicated situationship

˚ ༘⋆warnings: nsfw, suggestive, smoking, self-destructive, mentions of bleeding, fluff, angst

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･updates: every other day

～🎵

oh…..

oh no…..

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