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sad-darksoul · 15 days ago

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ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .

❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞

summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.

desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns

dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.

love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?

and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.

so how much more would it have ached for toji?

“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.

nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?

if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.

“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.

your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.

the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.

you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.

was he like that to his wife? maybe not.

does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?

you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?

you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.

a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.

taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.

when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.

“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.

“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.

“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.

“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.

“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”

“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.

“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.

toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.

he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.

this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.

maybe this isn't just about gambling.

with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.

toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.

he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.

he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.

toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.

he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.

toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.

he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.

“hey kid, where's your mama?”

toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.

“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.

“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.

“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”

“yeah? i love your mama too.”

toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.

the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.

instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.

the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.

──

it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.

“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.

“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.

“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?

“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”

is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.

“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.

“are you fushiguro?”

that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?

“no. you have the wrong person.”

“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.

“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.

“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”

…

and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.

he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.

“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.

“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.

your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.

and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.

your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.

“say something damn it!”

you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.

“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.

“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?

no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.

“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.

when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.

but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.

your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.

opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.

and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.

“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”

your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.

“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.

toji sighs. he has no excuse.

“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.

your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”

his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”

you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.

“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”

now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.

you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.

you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.

so then, why were you back here?

it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.

that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.

standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.

maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?

closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?

forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?

you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.

your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.

the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.

“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.

“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.

“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”

“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.

“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”

“wait what was that??”

“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.

“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”

your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.

“so you do know him.”

'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.

then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.

and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.

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sad-darksoul · 1 month ago

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“would you die for me?”

you’re laying on sukuna’s bare chest, fingers tracing the dark ink of his tattoos. he scoffs, glancing from his phone down to you before rolling his eyes.

“why would i be dying?”

“like… I don’t know, would you jump in front of a bullet to save me?”

“obviously.”

you huff out a bit of laughter.

“you would?”

his red eyes meet yours, a bored look in them.

“yes idiot, i would jump in front of a bullet to save you.”

“that’s so sweet.”

“yeah i know, boyfriend of the year,” sukuna grumbles, going back to his phone.

it’s silent for another moment before you think of something else.

…

“would you… kill for me?”

his grip on you tightens for a minute and he sets his phone down. one rough hands comes up and clasps your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his.

“do i need to?”

your eyes widen slightly, gulping at the intensity in his.

“i… well no… not right now, i just wondered if you would.”

“yes.”

he releases your jaw and your head drops back to his chest. he goes back to his phone as your heart pounds a little harder in your chest.

…

“… ‘kuna?”

“yeah?”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

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sad-darksoul · 2 months ago

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BLACK SHEEP!!

synopsis: who knew that the shy, awkward and dorky girl Suguru thought was weird would end up being the love of his life? WATERMELON

pairing: college!suguru geto x dork!reader

<<previous

contains: fluff, angst, suggestiveness, strangers to lovers, geto being a dick, recreational use of wed, partying, tbd

“What do you mean, I got an F?”

Yaga sighed at one of his most…talented students’ words. God, he really wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with such annoying students.

“Yes, Mr. Geto, an F. Your midterm was horrible, disgusting, and not to mention, late.”

Geto groaned at his sensei’s statement, headache from his hangover coming back.

To be completely honest, he didn’t even remember what the fuck he sent to Yaga two weeks ago. It could’ve been that one hate text message he sent one of his rivals at two a.m, or the half made essay about how all humans will turn into crabs.

But it doesn’t matter. He fucking failed an exam worth a fourth of his grade.

“You have a lot of potential, Mr. Geto. But no discipline.” Yaga scolded, frowning.

“And…that is why, I’ll assign you a tutor. And I will give you another exam to do.”

Geto nodded, rubbing his aching forehead. Good, that was good. Yaga was usually a super strict professor, so it was a miracle itself that he even assigned a tutor to Suguru, much less give him a second chance at an exam.

He knew that he had to fix his life again, that he wasn’t a rockstar. Not yet at least. For now, he’s just a psych major.

If he was honest with himself, he should probably stop drinking every night and sleeping so late. He’d age horribly if he continued this way.

Suguru only needed one incentive to stop his horrible lifestyle…

You tripped into the lecture hall due to your hair masking your vision, your tea falling all over you.

“Aw, shit. This was my favourite hoodie.” You cursed under your breath, taking off the Pokemon hoodie that you were wearing, your glasses getting stuck in your hair while you struggled to take the sweater off.

Suguru could’ve seen an angel the moment you entered. His eyes widened, looking you up and down.

Pokemon? Oh, you two already had so much in common. He loved Pokemon. That could totally be a point of conversation.

“Ah, your tutor’s here.” Yaga said, walking back to his desk.

…Suguru thought it was fate. He mindlessly nodded at whatever Yaga was saying, getting up from his chair and walking all the way to you with his long legs.

This was his first time talking to you, he had to be as charming as possible.

“Hey, I’m Geto. It’s so nice to-” The moment he saw it, he felt as if he was going to throw up.

Your face.

How didn’t he recognize you? Sure, you didn’t have those big glasses that made your eyes look like a fish. A very…cute fish, might he add. But your face was easily recognizable.

Well, to him at least, since he totally hated you. He totally didn’t feel guilty about what he said last month. He totally didn’t get almost run over by Shoko and Utahime after the latter picked you up ‘crying’.

He totally didn’t throw up in disgust at his own actions.

In his defense, he was terribly drunk, high on adrenaline and many other things, but he also felt like he was on top of the world.

His hand was extended, frozen as his thoughts scrambled all over.

“What do you want?” You spoke up, trying to seem confident, but your voice cracked.

You stood up rather quickly, leaving his hand empty as you clutched all your books to your chest, shy at the fact that you were wearing a simple tank top in front of the judgiest man you know.

Geto blinked, frowning. “I…You’re my tutor.”

You froze, flushing as you turned to the teacher. “Mr. Yaga, are you serious?” You blurted out.

Yaga shrugged. “Yes, you signed up for the tutor program.”

…Right. You did. You needed the extra money.

“How much am I getting paid?”

The silence was very loud, the hall echoing your question.

“Twenty bucks an hour. He’s paying. Now get the hell out of my classroom and work.”

“Hey…uhm, about that…thing that happened…last month.”

“We don’t need to talk. I will just help by explaining.” You said back, crossing your arms.

The library was mostly empty, with only some of your friends studying.

It was awkward, spending time with the same dude that cussed you out of his party, but twenty bucks were twenty bucks.

Not like you did anything, though. He was smart, he could study by himself.

So, you were nose deep into your little booklet, writing poems for your next literature class. It was a new class you had been taking, mostly to fill your schedule.

Even if you could stay in silence for hours without letting out even a peep, Suguru did not have this ability.

He was tapping everything. His pencil, his foot or his cup. It was annoying, but you tried to ignore it until he spoke up.

“Look, I’m not trying to justify why I was being a dick-”

“I don’t care. You sure didn’t that night.” You shrugged, pushing your glasses up.

“Then how can I make it up?” He asked in a deep tone.

“Nothing. Mistakes are made. That’s it.”

Geto scoffed at that. Why did he want you to accept his apology anyway? You never talk to each other. He still calls you a loser.

Suguru didn’t even know himself. He feels pissed off at everything these days, but maybe that F on the assignment put some things into perspective.

Or…maybe he feels guilty. You’re…well, you didn’t have the chance to have a first impression without him being sober.

Maybe he wants to change that. Or maybe he wants to prove to himself that he can still be the charismatic Suguru Geto he was before this whole band thing.

Speaking of, he did have practice, so he should probably cut the tutoring session.

“...I have to leave.” He said plainly, taking his wallet out and giving you a very generous tip.

You blinked at the multiple bills in your hand, confused and slightly flustered.

“Wh…what?” You stuttered out, looking up at him with a frown.

Suguru shrugged, a smirk on his lips.

“It looks like you need it. I mean, that hoodie of yours is ruined. Might as well buy yourself something new.” He purred, determination in his eyes.

You pursed your lips, perplexed. Was…Was he flirting with you? No, that wasn’t possible.

He stood up, walking away without his books.

“What a fucking weirdo.” You mumbled under your breath as he left, looking down at his stuff.

As you did, you noticed that your poem booklet went missing.

Did…did he just steal one of your most treasured items? And he still wants to make amends?

You may be a dork, but Suguru Geto is a whole different level of weird.

Geto smirked to himself as he snooped through your book, already brewing a plan.

Suguru knew what he wants as an incentive, even if you already hate his guts. He’ll win you over, he’ll prove to himself that he still has it.

He just has to find a way to make you like him.

Which was impossible, considering that one drunken mistake put him in your death note.

a/n: we are NOT gonna be manipulated chat. Also, the tag list is closed ;( Everybody who didn't get tagged the index has the chapters.

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sad-darksoul · 2 months ago

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Sukuna told you he would be getting a new tattoo. Nothing out of the ordinary, I mean, the man was already drenched in ink. Tribal lines and other stuff that made him look all the more masculine.

And then, when you arrive home after a not-so-great day at work. You see it, and your eyes widen, and you gasp in horror.

"You—! You did not!" Your hands come to cover your mouth, in pure shock. And he cocks a brow, still applying some soothing ointment over his skin.

"Did not what?" He asks, spreading his legs further on the couch, as if inviting you to come sit over his lap.

"That's— That's my fucking name, Sukuna!" You come closer, before you touch it you quickly run to the bathroom and wash your hands, then come back. How amusing, you remind him of a little mouse at times. All cute and skittish. Finally, you run your hands over the expanse of skin, where your name and his last name is written in bold italics. All over his left clavicle. "Why did you do this?" You ask in a whimper, lower lip trembling. And he only looks around in utter confussion.

"So everyone knows I'm yours?" He says, it sounds like a question but you know it's a statement, a fact.

"You're not a dog!"

"But I can be. For you."

"That's besides the point!" You say, already flustered. Finally, sitting over his lap, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, shaking.

"I don't get why you're so upset," He sighs, rubbing a hand all over your back. "It's not like I got... I don't know— Another name tattooed." He grumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Because it's... I don't know," You sigh. "Now I feel obligated to get yours."

"Oho?" He smirks, cupping your face between his two enormous hands. "Trust me. It would be my pleasure to have you branded as mine."

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sad-darksoul · 2 months ago

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Girl Dad!?

a drabble in which Nanami is the girl dad.

"Here, I keep them on hand for the kids," Nanami says, handing Nobara a hairband from his pocket.

First comes Nobara's question. "Kids? Plural?"

"Nanami! How many kids do you have?" Yuji's voice rang out as Nanami stood beside Gojo, watching the first year students train.

"Four," The blonde haired man responded simply, checking his phone. A text from his beloved wife. He opens it with little hesitation. One picture, their little five month old daughter laid on her mother's chest. He smiles.

"Four kids?" Nobara asked in surprise.

"Four daughters," Nanami corrected her without glancing up from his phone. A second picture. His twin daughters, three years old, had drawn something together that his wife had sent him a picture of.

"Don't you get tired of all those girls in the house, Nanami?" Gojo asked, throwing an arm around Nanami's broad shoulders.

"No." Nanami responded, scowling. "Why would I?" He checks his watch with shimmery pink nails, the work of his eldest daughter. Underneath his brown business shoes and black socks held up by sock garters, his toenails matched, the same shimmery pink.

"Four kids and not one son?" Yuji asked, his big brown eyes gazing curiously at his teacher.

"Aren't you at least a little disappointed?" Gojo asked, cocking his head at his coworker.

"My genetics determined that we had daughters. I love them all dearly." Nanami spoke, shoving Gojo off of his shoulders.

"I have four daughters, and they look almost exactly like my beautiful wife. I'm more concerned about all the boys I'll have to fend off of my doorstep than I am about only having daughters." Nanami said proudly, a soft smile making it's way onto his usually stoic face.

"Now, if you don't mind, my wife says dinner will be done in 20. Have a nice day, everyone." And with that, Nanami Kento leaves, a big smile on his face. He can't wait to get home.

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sad-darksoul · 2 months ago

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❀ In which you and your husband compete to be your baby's first word

“Say ‘ma-ma.’”

Your baby makes some noise. It’s an adorable babble that induces cuteness aggression in the form of you biting her chubby cheeks and listening to her giggle, but it’s not the exact sound you want. Still, she’s a clever girl so you know she’ll pull through sooner than later.

“Playing dirty, sweetheart?”

Kento walks into the nursery, laying his folded suit jacket over the armrest of the chair in the corner, where he sits down with a relieved sigh. He loosens his tie and gives you a tired smile, two long fingers beckoning you over. Baby in your arms, you nestle in his lap, immediately engulfed in his scent and warmth. He playfully nibbles on the fingers the baby shoves in his mouth, her own way of welcoming him back, you suppose.

Fresh from a long day at work, you don’t bother asking why he didn’t change into his home clothes immediately after coming back or why he’s not taking a much needed nap – your husband has asserted multiple times now that his favourite way of recharging is with you and his little girl. Home is wherever you two are, he says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, trying to distract the observant man by handing the baby over to him.

Humming as he presses a kiss to her forehead, Kento muses, “So, my gorgeous wife, who loves nothing more than coming out victorious in every competition she creates, has been behaving the entire day, withholding any and all attempts to make our darling daughter’s first word be ‘mama?’ Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”

You plead the fifth and the guilty grin you give him is all the answer he needs.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” your husband coos, eyes sparkling with adoration behind his thin-frame glasses. “Did you miss dada? Dada missed you, oh, yes, he did.”

“Hey! Now you’re playing dirty.”

“On the contrary, my love, I’m simply catching up.” His smile widens at the fairy-light sounds of pure joy that he elicits from his baby girl with his nose kisses. “Dada would never resort to cheating, would he? No, not like your mother. Can you say, ‘mother?’ No? Oh, dear.”

That earns him a slap on his chest. “You are so annoying, Ken. I carried her for nine months, it’s my right to be her first word. I deserve it.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I understand, but our little love doesn’t. All that matters to her is that ‘dada’ is much, much easier to say than ‘mother.’” The 'little love' in question steals her father's glasses and waves it around with her balled-up fist. Knowing that a baby's grip is second to none, he doesn't put up a fight.

She's definitely your daughter.

“Uhuh, Kento. Keep plying her with complicated words to make ‘dada’ sound easier all you want but my girl knows her roots. She’ll come through for me." Shuffling off, you give them each a kiss on the head. "Alright, alright. I have to get started on dinner — you two have fun. Hear that, angel? Mama is going. Ma-ma is making food for your sperm donor. Can you say ‘male parental figure?’ No? What a shame.”

They share a laugh: one appreciating your quip and the other, just happy to be there.

An hour or so later, dinner’s ready and waiting on the dining table. You don’t shout, not anymore; one never knows when the baby’s asleep and when she'll next sleep so every drop of quiet is gold in the Nanami household.

Quietly then, you creep down the hallway and peek your head through the gap in the door. The twinkling of a music box plays in the background.

Remaining where you left them, Kento rocks his daughter in his arms, running a finger from her forehead down to her nose bridge, tickling her delicate skin, a trick that never fails to make her smile.

Your husband talks in a gentle, tender conspiratorial tone and your eyes narrow in suspicion — the man hides behind an air of maturity and wisdom, obscuring his penchant for competition, but he can’t fool you. “Come on, sweetpea, make dada proud. Just like we’ve been practising, hmm? Say it with Papa Ken.”

Who’s playing dirty now?

Just about to scold him for his underhanded actions, hypocrisy and double standards be damned, his next words stop you in your tracks.

“Say ‘mama.’ Can you say, ‘ma-ma?’ Don’t you want to make mama happy? I know I do.” She only blows bubbles in response, tiny hands tugging at his tie now so she can gnaw at it, glasses returned to the rightful owner. “No? Tired from a whole day of being daddy’s perfect angel, are you? Alright, we’ll try again later. Come on, let’s go help mama. She gets grumpy when the food doesn’t cook fast enough.”

The last sentence was unnecessary but you appreciate the sentiment, nonetheless.

Beyond appreciative of his never ending efforts to make you happy, dinner's spent with you giving your husband a gummy grin and he, in return, eyes you in suspicion, all while your little girl entertains herself with her foot in her mouth.

At night, baby asleep and tucked away in her room, you push him down on the bed, practically ripping his clothes off. Dazed, confused, but very pleased with the evening's turn of events, Kento rarely ever has any choice but to let you have your way with him.

And beyond content in a way he never knew he could be, in a way he didn't know he'd ever deserve, Kento doesn't realise he's smiling beneath you until you thumb at his lips, a soft look in your twinkling eyes.

"Let's have another baby, Ken."

Softly, he mutters, “Whatever you want, dear.”

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sad-darksoul · 3 months ago

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♡ ⸝⸝ MAKE UP SEX

featuring. criminal!sukuna | smut mdni

“you didn’t need to come get me.”, you sigh, staring out of the window of you ex boyfriend’s car as you face away from him.

“are you kidding?” he scoffs, “you sounded like a mess over the phone.”

you roll your eyes at his comment. you had previously been at the club with your girls, just wanting a fun night out until you found yourself paralytic drunk, and calling your ex boyfriend with slurred words and childish giggles.

it wasn’t long before sukuna was storming into the place, his brows furrowed with concern whilst pulling your by your arm and into his car, forcing you to drink a bottle of water with scolding words.

“are you still drinking your water?”, he asks with a firm tone, side eyeing you.

“yes.”, you mumble, taking a sip of the cold bottle of water which has been sobering you up well enough.

pulling up to your apartment complex, sukuna asks, “what made you call me, anyway? aren’t you the one usually scolding me for that.”

“i dunno.. in the moment i just missed you, i think.”

“you think?” he repeats sarcastically before turning to face you, his attention fully on you, “what are we doing here, hm? we’re exes but we certainly don’t act like it. do you actually miss me or are you just keeping me around until you find the next guy?”

you scoff before replying, “you think i put myself through this just because? obviously i miss you, sukuna. but, how am i meant to feel safe around you with the shit you do?”

“you’ve got marbles for brains if you think i’d let anything happen to you. don’t you get i fucking love you?”

you’re silent for a moment, “even after all this?”

“you for real? especially after all this.”

soon followed your hand grasping onto the steamy windows of sukuna’s car, your pretty moans falling from your parted lips as sukuna bottoms out inside of you with his pelvis colliding with the plush of your ass.

“fuck.. forgot how good this pussy felt, baby.”, he groans, one hand entwined with yours and the other balancing himself in the backseat of his car as he fucks you dumb, admiring your trembling form and your fucked out face.

“tell me y’missed me.”, he demands with a whisper, nibbling on the bottom of your ear and eliciting a whine from you.

“missed you.. so much.”, you cry out as you feel sukuna abuse your g spot, your walls clenching around his cock.

he hisses at the feeling of your walls flutting around him before replying, “yeah? couldn’t stop thinking about you, y’know. you’re all i damn thought about.”

you whimper out his name, feeling your pleasure build up to it’s tipping point as your toes curling and your breaths becoming heavy, desperate for your own orgasm.

“i know, baby. hold out a little f’me, okay? m’ gonna cum soon as well.”, he says, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand as he buries his face into the side of your neck, continuing to abuse your sweet spot until his cock throbs.

you suddenly feel the electricity of your climax, crying out your ex’s name like a beautiful prayer with your head thrown back and your hand gripping onto his.

“shit- inside or out?”, he asks, his orgasm so close as he feels the consistent clenching of your walls around his throbbing cock.

“in- in- in.”, you chant, desperate to feel his orgasm, to feel him claim and take you as his once more.

and so he does, emptying himself completely inside of your wanting walls, reaching down to kiss your parted lips as he shudders from the overwhelming sensation of his own orgasm.

“fuck, baby..”, he mutters out, his chest heavy as he comes down from his high, looking at your glossy eyes as he traces his thumb against your parted lips, “i’m not letting you leave me again, and i’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“i know.”, you mutter, looking up at the man you love knowing you were his and he was yours.

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sad-darksoul · 3 months ago

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A little bit scandalous

Synopsis: their ex sent you their sex tape with THEM. You don't even know how to react cause? YOU GUYS AREN'T EVEN IN A FUCKING RELATIONSHIP.

Characters : gojo Satoru, nanami kento, geto suguru, choso kamo and ryomen sukuna.

Warning ⚠️: comparisons, slight bit. Graphic sexual details mentioned. (Kidding not too graphic 😝)

Requests are open!

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sad-darksoul · 3 months ago

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What the media won't show

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sad-darksoul · 3 months ago

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“i can feel your heart aching.”

sukuna states, looking over your curled up form on your bed.

he hears you sniffle, then your voice comes out in a shaky and wobbling tone, “does it matter? it's not like you care.”

he clicks his tongue, “foolish girl.”

what he meant to say was ; no, he did care, and that he will always care. but of course, his pride seemed to come above all else.

“now, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?” he asks, crossing his arms.

when you don't reply, he grunts, settling down on the mattress beside you. his hand grabs your arm, and he forces you to face him.

you whimper, quickly attempting to wipe away the tears at your eyes and he clicks his tongue once more.

“you're crying.” he states and you huff, rolling your eyes as you sit up, “what do you think?”

“don't jest with me, woman.” he warns, before shuffling closer to you.

his hand cups your cheek, tilting your face up so that you meet his gaze — he tries to ignore how the sight of your glassy eyes and wobbling lip tugs at his heart strings. he was the king of curse's for fuck's sake, he did not have heart strings for you to tug on.

and yet.

“do you plan on telling me what's bothering you?” he asks, and of course, his voice comes out soft, and of course, his heart is fluttering in his chest at the thought of whatever could've made you cry, and of course he cares.

curse you and your beautiful, doe eyes that stare up at him, and curse you and your beautiful, full and plump lips that always feel so soft and fit perfectly against him, and curse you and your stupid, foolish kindness and naivety that had him on a chokehold because you were so different from him.

you must’ve put a hex on him or something, he thinks. how dare he let himself care for you this much?

“woman,” he grunts when he gets no response, “tell me what's on your mind.”

“you favor her.” you finally say.

he raises an eyebrow, confused, “favor who?”

“yumi — or whatever her name is,” you huff, “the new concubine. you favor her.”

he scoffs, “that is what's bothering you?”

you whine, “i told you, you don't care!”

“petal.” he huffs, “i don't favor a measly concubine like her.”

“then why have you been spending so much time with her? you've barely called me to your chambers those past three weeks.” you say, and god, when you look at him with those tearful and big eyes of yours. all he wants to do is get on his knees and worship you, show you just how much he truly favors you.

“i didn't think about it that way,” he finally says instead, shrugging, “i didn't think it would…hurt you.”

“of course it'd hurt me!” you exclaim, “you-you always told me about how i was your favorite, and now that there is a new concubine in the picture, you suddenly favor her?”

“that's not true.” he says with a scowl, “i've always favored you, and you know that.”

“then prove it.” you say sternly, “prove to me that i'm your favorite.”

he scoffs, “goddammit woman, i'll get rid of the whole harem if that's what you want.”

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open, “...really?”

he rolls his eyes, “yes.” he says, then quietly, almost bashfully, he asks : “would that make you happy?”

you look down at your fingers, fiddling with them, “...yes.” you murmur.

“good.” he huffs, “now wipe away those pathetic tears of yours and quit your whining.”

you laugh, wiping down your face with your hands, “oh, ‘kuna.” you coo, “you've gone soft.”

“i have not.” he hisses.

but oh, he has. actually, he's always been soft for you — damn hex you put on him.

“sure.” you giggle.

he huffs, then he slowly pushes you back down on the mattress and he hovers over you, his hands on either side of your body, “let me just show you how much i favor you.”

that night, he spends it worshipping you.

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