withlovebuccellati

[withlovebuccellati]

for: anon.

[withlovebuccellati]

My sweet, how I’ve missed you~

wc: ~3.9k

pairing: Diego Brando x fem!reader

warnings: light angst but gets kinda resolved by the end, public sex, afab, not really unrequited love, Childhood lovers breakup and meet again, Diego was being selfish, minors DNI please!

A/N: not proof read :p

The sun had just started its descent, casting long shadows over the rugged terrain of the Steel Ball Run racecourse. Diego Brando tightened his grip on Silver Bullet’s reins, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a familiar figure ahead. His heart skipped a beat. It was her. He hadn’t seen her in years, not since he’d coldly severed their ties in pursuit of his ambitions.

They had grown up together in London, bonded by their shared passion for horse racing. She was a prodigy, just like him. Their relationship had blossomed from childhood friendship into something deeper, but Diego had ended it, seeing her as a hindrance to his grand plans. His upbringing had taught him to rely on no one but himself. His father had tried to bury him alive, and his mother had sacrificed everything to save him and keep him alive. Those scars had shaped him, driving him to climb to the top of society, no matter the cost.

But now, seeing her here, competing in the same race, old feelings he had thought buried began to resurface. She was riding with the same grace and determination he remembered, her eyes focused on the path ahead. He couldn’t help but be drawn to her, despite the pain he had caused.

Diego watched her from a distance, his gaze lingering on her whenever they stopped for rest. She moved with a quiet confidence, her every action a reminder of the girl he had once loved. He found himself yearning for her, his heart aching with a longing he hadn’t felt in years. The memories of their past flooded his mind—the late-night rides, the shared dreams of glory. He remembered the way she used to look at him, with trust and love. He had shattered that trust, married another for money, and pursued his ambitions at her expense.

As the race progressed, Diego struggled to concentrate. His thoughts were consumed by her, and he found himself stealing glances in her direction whenever he could. He couldn’t bring himself to approach her, the weight of his past mistakes holding him back. Instead, he admired her from afar, his heart filled with a mixture of longing and regret.

The evening was quick to come, as the race reached a brief intermission at a small encampment, Diego found himself unable to resist the urge to see her. He dismounted Silver Bullet and wandered through the camp, his eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of her. He found her near the edge of the encampment, brushing down her horse. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and he stood there for a moment, simply watching her.

The way she moved, the gentle touch of her hands on the horse’s mane, brought back a flood of memories. He remembered how they used to care for their horses together, talking about their dreams and ambitions. Those had been simpler times, before his ambition had driven a wedge between them.

Diego took a step forward, his heart pounding. He wanted to call out to her, to apologise for everything he had done, but the words caught in his throat. He stood there, torn between his desire to make amends and his fear of being rejected.

As the announcement for the next leg of the race echoed through the encampment, she finished brushing down her horse and turned to leave. Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and cold indifference, and Diego felt his heart sink.

“Diego,” she said, her voice flat. “What do you want?”

He swallowed, struggling to find the right words. “I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And why would you? You made it clear years ago that I was nothing but a distraction to you.”

The bitterness in her voice cut deep. Diego took a step closer, his eyes pleading. “I was wrong. I know that now. I thought pushing you away would help me achieve my goals, but all it did was leave me empty.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You think an apology can fix everything? You left me, Diego. You broke my heart and betrayed everything we had.”

Diego clenched his fists, frustration boiling over. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ve never stopped loving you. I can’t change the past, but I want to make things right.”

She shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You can’t. I joined this race to prove that I don’t need you, that I’m just as strong and capable on my own. You taught me that.”

His heart ached at her words. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was protecting you from the chaos of my life.”

She laughed bitterly. “You were only protecting yourself, Diego. You’re selfish, always have been.”

Diego’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “You’re right. I’ve been a fool. But seeing you here, it made me realise how much I’ve missed you, how much I still need you.”

She looked away, her expression torn. “I can’t trust you again. You’ve given me no reason to.”

As the announcement for the next leg of the race echoed through the encampment, she mounted her horse, avoiding his gaze. “Stay away from me. I won’t let you hurt me again.”

Diego watched her ride off, his heart heavy with regret. He had pushed away the one person who had ever truly mattered to him, and now he was paying the price. The race continued, but his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Each time he saw her, a knife twisted deeper into his heart.

The moon hung low in the sky as Diego and Silver Bullet moved steadily through the darkness. The vast plains around them were silent, save for the occasional rustle of the wind through the tall grass. Each night, as they set up camp, Diego found himself searching for her among the flickering campfires and tents. He caught glimpses of her—laughing with fellow racers, tending to her horse, staring into the distance with a look of determination.

One night, unable to sleep, Diego wandered away from his tent. The night air was cool, and the stars above seemed brighter than usual. He walked aimlessly, his mind lost in a tangle of memories and regrets. As he rounded a cluster of tents, he saw her standing alone at the edge of a small hill, her silhouette framed by the starlit sky.

He stayed hidden, his heart aching as he watched her. She seemed so distant, so unreachable. Diego’s mind drifted back to their shared past, to the nights they had spent under the same stars, dreaming of their future. He remembered the feel of her hand in his, the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her embrace. He had thrown it all away for his ambition, and now he was left with nothing but the hollow ache of regret.

As the days turned into weeks, Diego’s longing grew. He saw her more often, their paths crossing in fleeting moments that left him yearning for more. Each time, he struggled with the urge to speak to her, to try and make things right. But the memory of her cold eyes and bitter words held him back.

During one particularly gruelling day of the race, they found themselves riding side by side. The terrain was rough, the path narrow, forcing them to ride close together. Diego’s heart raced as he glanced at her, her face set in a determined expression.

“You’re doing well,” he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of their horses’ hooves.

She didn’t respond, her focus remaining on the path ahead. Diego sighed, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I am sorry. For everything.”

She finally looked at him, her eyes cold and distant. “Save it, Diego. Words won’t change what you did.”

As the race neared its end, the tension between them grew. They were both driven by their need to prove themselves, but for Diego, the race had taken on a deeper significance. It wasn’t just about winning anymore; it was about redemption, about finding a way to make amends for his past mistakes.

The final stretch of the race approached, and Diego knew he was running out of time. Desperation clawed at him, but he could see the resolve in her eyes. She was determined to win, to prove to herself and to him that she didn’t need him.

As they neared the finish line, the roar of the crowd grew louder. Diego pushed Silver Bullet harder, his heart pounding with the effort. He glanced at her, seeing the fierce determination in her eyes. She was close, so close, and he knew he had to make one last attempt.

“Please,” he begged, his voice raw with emotion. “Give me another chance. I can’t bear to lose you again.”

She met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and pain. “You already lost me, Diego. You lost me the moment you chose your ambition over our love.”

The finish line loomed ahead, and Diego knew he had one last chance. He pushed forward, but it was too late. Johnny Joestar surged ahead, taking the victory. Diego’s heart sank. He had lost the race, but more importantly, he had lost her.

In the aftermath, as the crowds celebrated Johnny’s victory, Diego stood alone, the weight of his mistakes crushing him. He watched as she was surrounded by well-wishers, her expression bittersweet. She had proven her strength, but the cost had been their love.

Diego’s shoulders slumped as he turned away from the celebratory crowds, the realisation sinking in that he had no one to blame but himself. He had pushed away the one person who had ever truly mattered, and now he was left with nothing. With a heavy heart, he rode towards the small town that served as a former checkpoint for the racers, seeking solace in solitude.

The sun had set by the time Diego arrived at the bustling saloon. He pushed open the swinging doors and stepped inside, scanning the room. The dim light cast long shadows across the wooden floor, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and tobacco. The clatter of glasses and hum of conversation filled the room, but Diego’s focus was drawn to a solitary figure at the bar.

She was there, sitting alone, nursing a drink. Her posture was tense, and the dim light cast shadows on her face, highlighting the contours of her features. Diego’s heart skipped a beat. She was still as breathtaking as ever. In his eyes, she was more than beautiful; she was a goddess, and he had been a fool to let her go. He stood in the doorway for a moment, torn between the urge to approach her and the fear of rejection.

He took a deep breath and made his way to the bar, his steps slow and hesitant. He settled into a seat a few stools away from her, trying to muster the courage to speak. The bartender approached, and Diego ordered a drink, his eyes never straying far from her, not like they could anyways.

As he sipped his drink, Diego’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The memories of their past, the love they had shared, and the pain he had caused all flooded back. He watched her from the corner of his eye, admiring her. She had always been strong, even when he had been weak. She had always been more than he deserved, and he had thrown it all away.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally gathered the courage to speak. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the saloon.

She turned to look at him, her eyes cold and distant. “And why would you? You made it clear years ago that I meant nothing to you.”

Diego winced at the bitterness in her voice. “I was wrong,” he admitted, his gaze fixed on his drink. “I thought pushing you away would help me achieve my goals, but all it did was leave me empty.”

She scoffed, taking a sip of her drink. “Empty? You don’t know the meaning of the word. You have no idea what it’s like to be left behind, to be betrayed by someone you trusted.”

Diego’s heart ached at her words. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ve never stopped loving you. You are the most beautiful, thoughtful and admirable person I’ve ever known. I can’t change the past, but I want to make things right for once.”

She shook her head, her expression filled with pain. “You can’t. I joined this race to prove that I don’t need you, that I’m just as strong and capable on my own. You taught me that.”

Diego clenched his fists, frustration boiling over this voice evident of this. “You were never a distraction to me. You were my strength, my anchor. I was a fool to let you go.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You’re right. You were a fool. But it’s too late now. I’ve moved on, and so should you.”

Diego’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’ve tried, but I can’t. You’re the only one who’s ever mattered to me. I can’t undo my mistakes, but I want to make amends.”

She turned away, her expression torn. “Words won’t change what you did, Diego. Actions speak louder.”

Diego felt a flicker of hope. “Then let me prove it to you. Let me show you that I’ve changed.”

She met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. “You had your chance, Diego. And you blew it.”

With that, she slammed her glass down and stood up abruptly, storming out of the saloon. Diego’s heart pounded as he watched her leave, a mixture of desperation and determination flooding him. He quickly threw some money on the bar and followed her outside not wanting to let her go another time.

The night air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the stuffy atmosphere inside the saloon. She had made her way to a secluded alley, her back to him as she leaned against the wall, taking deep, angry breaths.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she demanded, not turning to face him.

Diego took a tentative step forward. “Because I can’t lose you again. I know I hurt you, and I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I can’t walk away without trying.”

She spun around, her eyes blazing with fury. “Trying? Trying to do what, Diego? To make yourself feel better? To ease your guilt? You think you can just waltz back into my life and everything will be fine?”

“No,” Diego said, his voice raw with emotion. “I don’t expect everything to be fine. I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and that I still love you.”

She laughed bitterly, the sound cutting through the night. “Love? You don’t know the first thing about love. You only care about yourself and your ambitions.”

Diego took another step closer, his heart aching. “That’s not true. I care about you more than anything. I was a fool to let you go, but I’ve changed. I want to make things right.”

“Make things right?” she echoed, her voice trembling with anger. “You can’t make things right, Diego. You broke my heart. You made me feel worthless, like I was nothing but a distraction. How do you think that feels?”

Diego’s eyes softened as he heard her words. He couldn't find it in himself to feel any anger towards her for shouting berating him like this. Hell let it be anyone else and they would have been done for, but this was his beloved, and that alone transcended any arrogance that he was so used to showing. “I know I can’t undo the past, but I want to try. Please, just give me a chance.”

She shook her head, her expression torn between anger and pain. “I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

Diego reached out, his hand bordering on trembling. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that you can.”

For a moment, they stood there, the tension between them evident. Then, with a cry of frustration, she grabbed his collar and pulled him into a fierce, desperate kiss. Diego’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as years of pent-up emotions and regrets poured out all at once.

Their kiss was a mix of anger and longing, a clash of emotions that neither of them could control. Diego’s hands tangled in her hair, while hers gripped his shirt tightly. It was a moment of raw, unfiltered passion, the culmination of everything they had been through.

As Diego pulls her further into the shadowy alleyway, the dim light barely illuminating their desperate and passionate encounter, he can't help but feel the thrill of risk. His mouth hungrily consumes hers, his hand gripping the back of her neck, forcing her closer. She's initially resistant, her body tense, but the years worth of pent up sexual frustration between the two is undeniable.

Diego's other hand roams over her body, pulling her dress upwards, aligning with the fervent movements of his lips. He feels her soft skin against his fingers, his desire growing with each touch. Her body slowly loosens, allowing him to easily lift her off the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist.

The urgency is palpable now. The dimly lit alleyway provided just the right amount of cover for their heated tryst. The sound of horses and the clatter of hooves outside the saloon filled the night air, merging with the soft moans and the hurried panting of two souls who couldn't seem to resist each other anymore. Diego pushed her against the wall, the roughness of the bricks biting into her oversensitive neck. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging onto him as if her life depended on it.

She moaned as he moved his lips to her neck, kissing her with a fierce intensity that she had never experienced before. The years apart had made her yearn for his touch, and now that she had it, she didn't want to let go.

Diego was like a man possessed, his need for her driving him wild. He knew that what they were doing was risky, but he couldn't bring himself to care. All that mattered was that she was here, in his arms, and he wasn't going to let her go again.

"I need you," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "I need you so badly."

"fuck Diego I hate when you sound hot, its so annoying right now shit" she replied, her words coming out in a desperate whine. "Take me already!!". he still got on her nerves even after all these years.

"we need to be quick, anyone could walk down here" Diego says through his many rough kisses, but he can't deny the excitement that sends a shiver down his spine, honestly speaking deep down Diego knew that he WANTED someone to 'walk in' on you two just so that he could assert his temporary possession over his lover. The risk of being caught adds to the thrill, and his heart races as he keeps her pressed up against the brick wall.

She gasps as his hands roam over her body, the feeling of his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. Her skin is burning up from the feverish kisses he plants on her neck and shoulder, his teeth lightly grazing her flesh. His breathing is heavy and ragged, and his hands are trembling as they fumble with her shorts, desperately trying to find the zipper.

"Fuck, Diego" she whines, her voice laced with desire. "Hurry up."

Diego is determined to show her that she's his, and he's not going to waste any time. With a groan, he finally unzips her shorts, roughly pulling them down her thighs. The cool air hits her skin, making her shudder. He's not going to take his time, he's not going to savour every inch of her skin like he used to. He's going to take her, right here and right now.

Diego can feel her quivering in anticipation, her heart racing. He knows that she wants him, and he's not going to leave her waiting any longer. With a growl, he pulls her hips closer, lining himself up with her entrance. Before anything Diego uses his tip to devilishly tease her by moving it slowly up and down her fold, which sends a shock of pleasure through her body. Diego, with no warning, slams his tip in, earning a gasp from her. He can't hold back anymore, he's been wanting her for too long, and he's going to make sure she knows it.

"Fucking hell, Diego, you're impatient as ever." she hisses, her nails digging into his back.

He doesn't reply, he's not going to let her have the satisfaction of getting him worked up. He's in control here, and he's going to make sure she feels every inch of him. With another growl, he thrusts deeper inside her, hitting the sweet spot that he knows will drive her crazy. She lets out a moan, her eyes rolling back in her head. He smirks, knowing he has the upper hand.

"Do you still hate me after all this pleasure I'm giving you, hm?" he growls, thrusting harder and faster. "You like it when I take control?"

"N-no...!" she protests, her voice wavering.

"Admit it." Diego says, his voice low and demanding. "Tell me you like it when I fuck you like this."

She's lost in pleasure, unable to think straight. Her body is shaking, and her mind is foggy. All she can do is moan and cry out as he takes her.

"Fuck...Diego...please...I can't..." she whimpers.

"Say it." he demands.

"I-I like it...! I like it when you fuck me...!" she cries out, her eyes watering.

"Louder," he orders.

"I like it when you fuck me!! Please don't stop!!" she shouts, her body convulsing as she comes.

Diego holds her hips tightly as he continues his assault, not stopping until he's fully satisfied. He's not going to show any mercy, not until he's fully drained himself inside her.

"Diego!! fuck" her fucked out face tells him everything he needs to know. Besides, he's pretty sure everyone in their vicinity could've heard her scream his name out loud and god does that work him up good. (sorry to the saloon goers,,)

As Diego reaches his climax, he buries his face in her neck, growling like a wild animal. She holds onto him tightly, her body trembling as he fills her with his seed. He stays inside her for a moment, catching his breath.

"God, I've missed this." Diego pants. "I've missed you."

"You have a strange way of showing it." she mutters, her tone laced with bitterness.

"I'm sorry." he whispers, planting a gentle kiss on her neck. "I know I hurt you. But I'm not going to let you go again."

She sighs, her eyes closing as she savours the feeling of his lips on her skin.

"yeah yeah.. We'll see."

[withlovebuccellati]

Rendezvous, regrets and reconciliations ☆彡

Summary: Living life through Italy's mafioso lifestyle, Guido Mista broke his lover's heart to keep her safe. But when a dangerous mission leaves him wounded and desperate, he's back outside her door, sparking up a long awaited reunion.

A/N: Couldn’t find many Guido Mista works that I loved so I had to take matters into my own hands :p The lack of drama in my life kinda prompted this lol

*���゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*

Guido Mista had always lived on the edge, his existence bound by the unspoken rules of Passione, the most powerful criminal organization in Italy. His days were filled with peril and uncertainty, a constant dance with death. It was this treacherous life that had driven him to break her heart. Months ago, he had ended things abruptly, leaving her with cryptic words about her safety and his duty. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being caught in the crossfire of his violent world. Every day since, the decision haunted him, but he convinced himself it was ultimately for the best; for her.

Tonight, everything was bound to change. A mission had gone disastrously wrong, leaving him wounded and desperate. There was only one person he trusted with his life, the only one who knew how to heal his wounds—her. Swallowing his pride, he staggered to her door, blood seeping through his shirt, each step a painful reminder of his vulnerability.

When she opened the door, her eyes widened with shock and anger. They hadn’t seen each other since the breakup, and the sight of him, battered and broken, ignited a storm of emotions. Her hesitation was palpable, the instinct to care for him warring with the hurt he had caused.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and fury. “I had nowhere else to go,” he replied, his voice strained with pain.

Reluctantly, she let him in, her heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and unresolved feelings. She guided him to the couch, where he sank heavily, the tension between them palpable in the heavy silence that enveloped the room. His labored breathing echoed in the stillness, a stark reminder of the danger that he had narrowly escaped.

As she carefully tended to his wounds, their hands brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through them both. Memories of their shared past flooded back, each touch reigniting the deep connection they had once shared.

"I never wanted to hurt you, you know," he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between them. "I thought leaving was the only way to keep you safe."

Her eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—pain, confusion, and a flicker of understanding. She swallowed hard, grappling with the conflicting feelings that his words stirred within her. The weight of his confession hung heavily in the air, mingling with the scent of antiseptic and the soft murmur of distant traffic outside. In that moment, they both realized the complexity of their shared history and the fragile hope of a future still uncertain.

"Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?" she shot back, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and pain, her eyes glistening with unshed tears that threatened to spill over. She stood before him, her posture tense and her hands clenched into fists. The weight of his absence had carved a hole into her heart, a void of unanswered questions and lingering pain.

"You left without a word, without an explanation," she continued, her voice wavering as she struggled to contain the emotions that surged within her.

"I thought I was doing the right thing," he admitted softly, his voice barely a whisper, his gaze fixed on the ground as he finally met her gaze. "But I was wrong. Being away from you has been torture."

His words hung in the air between them, heavy with regret and longing. The room felt suffocatingly small, filled with the echo of their unresolved feelings and the ache of lost time. She searched his face for any sign of the man she once knew, grappling with the complexity of forgiveness and the undeniable pull of their shared history.

“Do you think it was any easier for me?” Her voice broke, trembling with the weight of unspoken pain. She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white, as tears welled up in her eyes. “Every day, I wondered why you left, if you were alive, if you cared at all.”

The room seemed to close in around her, the air thick with the tension of years of unanswered questions. “I spent sleepless nights staring at the ceiling, hoping for a sign, a clue, anything that would tell me you were out there somewhere.” She turned away, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, unable to meet his gaze. “Each day was a battle against the crushing silence, the unanswered questions that gnawed at my sanity.”

“I cared too much,” he said, wincing slightly as he shifted on the couch. His eyes held a mix of pain and regret, haunted by the decisions that had led them to this moment. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because of me.”

She was visibly frustrated now, her emotions raw and unfiltered. “But you did hurt me, Guido,” she replied, her voice tinged with disappointment and lingering hurt. “You hurt me more than anyone else ever could.”

Their words hung in the air between them, heavy with unresolved tension and the weight of unspoken truths. As she finished bandaging him, their heated conversation simmered into a tense truce. The raw honesty of their exchange began to dissolve the walls that had kept them apart.

Mista reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently took her hand in his. Their fingers intertwined, a silent acknowledgment of the tangled emotions that bound them together. The raw honesty of their exchange began to dissolve the walls between them. Mista reached out, gently taking her hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with regret as he looked deeply into her eyes. “I was a fool to think I could live without you. I truly do think that we’re soulmates, there’s no one who could make me feel things you do.”

Her long-surprised emotions had finally hit her as Tears finally escaped her eyes, freely trailing down her cheeks. She nodded slowly, her body trembling with the intensity of their reunion. The pain of their separation mingled with the overwhelming relief of his return, creating a whirlwind of emotions within her.

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them standing together. The room, with its dim lighting and soft murmurs of distant conversations hailing from the show that she was *previously* watching, became a distant backdrop to their long awaited reunion. They had both realized that no matter the dangers and uncertainties that lay ahead, they couldn’t deny their love.

They had found solace in each other’s arms, slowly piecing back the fragments of their broken hearts. Their reunion was a testament to the strength of their bond, a love that could withstand even the darkest of worlds.

Suddenly, the raw tension between them shifted like a gust of wind changing direction. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached out to touch the bandage wrapped around his torso, the reality of their dangerous situation looming large in the air around them.

"How bad is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes searching his face for reassurance.

"Bad enough," he admitted with a grimace, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor before meeting hers again. "It was a setup. They knew we were coming."

Her brow furrowed in concern, a mix of fear and anger surfacing in her expression. "Who did this to you, Guido?" Her voice quivered with a mixture of emotions, betraying her worry and determination to get to the bottom of the betrayal that had left him wounded and their mission compromised.

He hesitated, a shadow crossing his face as he revealed the danger that had brought him to her doorstep. The weight of his words echoed in the dimly lit room, where the silence between them held the gravity of their shared past and uncertain future. “A rival faction within Passione. Someone wants me out of the picture.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening with alarm as she grasped the implications. The room felt smaller, suffused with tension thick enough to cut with a knife. “And you came here? To me? You know they could follow you.”

“I had no choice,” he admitted, his voice urgent yet tinged with a hint of desperation. He shifted uncomfortably, aware of the risk he had brought to her doorstep. “I couldn’t trust anyone else. And… I needed to see you. To make things right.” Her hands trembled slightly as she reached out, a mixture of fear and unresolved feelings bubbling to the surface. The hierarchy of their shared history, the bonds and betrayals of their intertwined lives, loomed large in the space between them. “What if they find you here? What if they come after me?”

His grip on her hand tightened, a silent vow underscored by the weight of their entangled fates. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

“How Guido? …By leaving me again?” Her voice trembled with bitterness, the wounds of past abandonment still raw despite the years that had passed. “No,” he said firmly, his resolve stealing his voice. “This time, I’m staying. We’ll figure this out together.”

She searched his eyes, seeing a glimmer of the man she had once trusted implicitly amidst the shadows of doubt. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he affirmed, pulling her into a fierce embrace that spoke volumes of unspoken apologies and renewed determination.

“We’ll face whatever comes. Together.”

[withlovebuccellati]

he thinks he's gonna eat him

[withlovebuccellati]

Sukuna’s little one is such a daddy’s girl.

She’s always with her dada. Clinging onto him everywhere he goes, practically attached to his shoulder as he has carries her around, especially since she refuses to go to anyone that’s not you or your husband.

A truly spoiled brat is what she was. Her antics knew no ends. She had taken a habit of strolling in the garden every morning with her dada, Sukuna having to slow down his steps to meet the strides of his little girls feet as she had barely learnt how to walk and clutched his kimono for support.

As if that wasn’t enough, she was taking after her dada in other aspects as well. Once she was seated on Sukuna’s lap, one of his arms protectively wrapped around her. The scene was a man cowering over in fear beneath Sukuna as he sat on his throne.

And the girl giggles.

He raises a brow to look at his daughter giggling at the sight of the poor man’s fear and smirks. “Why brat, you truly take after me.” He pats her head.

He shoos the man away instantly, “Scram while you can, I’m in a pleasant mood today.”

One day, when her beloved papa leaves for a few days, you notice her missing him incredibly. So you get a brilliant idea, “how about we prepare a little surprise for papa?”

The next week, Sukuna returns, and his first thoughts are to check on you and your baby girl, and she comes running straight to him. He doesn’t take a second to realize that the kimono she’s wearing is modeled after his.

“Dada!” She giggles and waddles to her father, almost tripping in the long garment. She hugs his leg with a soft pout, holding her arms up, “Up!” She demands.

He chuckles and holds her up, propping her comfortably in his arms, “you’re one cheeky brat, aren’t you?” She giggles, wrapping her small hands around his neck to hug him. He chuckles again, patting her back. “Someone missed me, huh?”

Naughty as she is (she has Sukuna’s genes, duh) she loves her pranks. Scaring the servants by sneaking up on them or hiding behind the walls. Of course, it was hard to act afraid of such a cute little girl but the servants pretended to be scared anyways. It makes Sukuna proud, even though you scold him for it.

She has also mastered the tool of emotional manipulation— puppy eyes. Sukuna groans as she gives the puppy eyes to him. You had restricted her access to sweets, but she was the boss around here.

“Fine brat.” He huffs, secretly assured that the puppy eyes are something she’d learnt from you. “You may have the mochi— just do not tell your mother about this.”

Well, let’s just say that mother got to know about this and that the dad and daughter duo were scolded thoroughly.

Regardless, Sukuna is beyond grateful to you for giving him this little bundle of blessing, even though he isn’t sure what he ever did to deserve such a thing. He has only ever felt the need to see to his pleasure, but when he sees you and his baby daughter, his heart swells with pride. He’d shred the world apart to protect you both.

[withlovebuccellati]

exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

[withlovebuccellati]

Sukuna grabbing a quick snack (us)

I finally used a reference for his face too <3

[withlovebuccellati]

Dad! Sukuna

Sukuna sighs in annoyance as he hears the little one’s cry again. Your little girl had a habit of clinging onto you and only you, and no amount of servants could get her to calm down when she threw her tantrums. This also led you to your immense tiredness and lack of sleep.

He turns to you, you look so calm and peaceful in your sleep, your daughter’s cries not having reached your ears yet. He sighs again, lifting himself off the bed and heading to his daughter’s bedroom.

A myriad of servants are present in the room, trying to hush the princess with toys, making ridiculous faces and whatnot. But she, just like her dad, is insistent on having just you to be close to her. He almost smirks at the sight. She truly took after him. His blood indeed.

“Get lost.” His voice echoes, the servants immediately scurrying out with their heads down as a result. He heads over to the little girl– her eyes glassy and a pout on her lips, and takes her in his arms at once.

“What is it, you brat?” He says in a gruff voice, and she stops crying for a mere moment to study him, and resumes her noisy tantrum. Sukuna sighs again, the mighty king of curses so helpless in the face of a mere child.

“Ma-ma…” she sobs, her tiny, chubby hands on his chest. Sukuna scoffs, “your ‘mama’ is resting. Whatever business you have will have to be dealt by with me.”

Her sobs continue, and Sukuna lets out an angry sigh. He doesn’t know what sorcery will get her to shut up. He doesn’t want to wake you up– given how you have barely gotten rest since you’ve birthed his child.

He sighs again, two hands propping his daughter up in his arms and a third rubbing her back. He had seen you do this whenever you had to calm her down, and starts walking around the room, rocking the annoying brat in his arms.

He has never felt so pathetic in his life. A child in his arms— his child, having such control over his actions. Eventually, the little girl gives in, the rocking motions soothing her combined with the warmth of her father’s hold.

“What a brat.” He chuckles, noticing her as she’s fast asleep, nuzzled into his shoulder, drool dripping down her cheek. The cuteness is certainly something she’s taken from you— he’s sure of it now.

The next morning, realizing your husband isn’t next to you, and that you’ve slept through an entire night, panic makes its way into your heart as you rush to the baby’s room.

And there it is. Your daughter nestled onto her father’s chest who is on the bed, both of them fast asleep, and one of his arms protectively resting against her small back. Your heart cannot help but melt at the adorable sight.

That cuteness is something she’s gotten from Sukuna— you are certain.

[withlovebuccellati]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.

“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.

you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.

the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.

“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.

he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.

. . he still very much is.

“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.

that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.

a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.

and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.

“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”

thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.

‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.

but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.

you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.

you know and yet you’re patient.

“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.

sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.

you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.

“come back here, woman.”

sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

is he. . . upset?

“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”

sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.

the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.

love is complicated.

“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”

silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.

you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.

“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”

“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”

your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.

his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.

sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.

especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.

“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.

sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”

that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.

those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.

“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”

he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.

that’s also something that brings you comfort.

you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.

[withlovebuccellati]

sketch

[withlovebuccellati]

Anatomy sketch

[withlovebuccellati]

infinity

[withlovebuccellati]

that’s my girl

[withlovebuccellati]

You know for a fact that Uraume has some scolding hot tea ☕️ on Sukuna and his wife!

Ohohoho~ you’ve awoken the beast, anon!

Going by Urauma’s POV and the other servants, what are common things to hear, see, and experience in Heian Era! Sukuna’s household? (With Sukuna’s wife being added to the mix)

IM LATE ON THIS BUT THAT'S BECAUSE I HAD TO THINK Uraume has been really growing on me as a character, especially in the little Sukuna ff verse. I feel like Uraume doesn't get the respect they deserve!!!

BUT

I feel like some of the most common things to see are villagers making their little pilgrimage to the temple/ palace dozens come in a week hoping to get the favor of their overlord most are nice and respectful enough, they bring offerings, small meals, or maybe any art piece they could sacrifice to get his blessing for their plans

When they bow their heads low enough he lets them go with a little 'hmph' and a wave.

But when they're not? when they make the trip to arrogantly insist that they don't need the help let alone any blessings? -that's when the servants press their backs against the walls in the throne room, anxious about what's coming next.

If he's feeling particularly wasteful ( and annoyed ) he won't even have to move to get their body into slices right by his feet. If he's feeling bored the torture could last for hours until their body finally gives out. No one moves - they've seen it play out before, but they don't want to witness it --they're too scared to move. When it's over and their King finally drags his eyes over to the corner of the room where they're lined up against the wall all he manages is "Why are you all still standing there?" ( He knows why ) That's their cue to go back to their tasks.

With Uraume I feel like Sukuna is always aware of their presence as in he can sense the life/CE behind him or to his side but with how long they've been of service sometimes he genuinely forgets they're there which allows them to be privy to a lot more information lmao. So beyond this ( x ) I think Uraume has seen all types of visitors come through, Kenjaku, old leaders of the Gojo and Zenin clans, etc. These interactions were always odd in their own ways- the conversations are strained and everyone is not saying what they mean - but Uraume is adept at picking up on subtext.

When Sukuna's wife joins things change, the halls of the palace are fuller, and more lively, - not as cold and quiet as they used to be. To be honest, the conditions were not horrendous- but now that he's more distracted it feels like everyone just let out a deep breath. The other servants don't see as much Uraume does in the previous has of this but the eagle-eyed ones can pick up on bits and pieces.

Their King of curses is a bit more lenient now, things that drift away from his rigid routine and standards don't bother him as much anymore. He's more commonly found in the library or gallery now, rather than any training room. Some noticed him rereading or visiting old art pieces from years ago with new excitement- ready to show you all of his favorite details.

He's somehow lazier and bursting with more energy around you- neglecting any duties that he can while trying to subtly impress you- showing off everything he can offer. If the memories of his cruelty were not so fresh in the mind of his staff, it would be cute,-like a schoolboy crush. The look is refreshing to see on their master.

When Uraume finishes overseeing all the meal preparations, most servants are dismissed as soon as Sukuna comes into the dining hall- allowing the two of you to eat away from prying eyes. On the odd days when you don't come in right away, even the oblivious ones can catch onto the fact that he's waiting for you- patiently at that.

I think it's one of those unspoken things no one mentions it but they all know it to some degree, their new surroundings are curious for sure- but they will do anything to avoid bursting the bubble of their now almost fear-free life.

[withlovebuccellati]

cws for blood and injuries.

i think sukuna purposefully lets himself be injured in fights and refuses to heal himself because he likes the way you fret over him when he comes home to you.

you’re always there to greet him, and today is no different, the smile that had been on your face being replaced with a look of mild horror at seeing the blood coating his body — he’s never been one to dirty the both of you guys home with the blood of riffraff, so it’s clear that the dark liquid marring his skin is his own.

“ryomen!” you’re by his side in an instant, hands hovering as you try to discern where his injuries are. “you’re hurt. who did this?” there’s a fire in your eyes as you ask it, and sukuna can’t help the amused chuff that leaves him.

“do you plan on revenging me if i tell you?”

“yes!”

“that’d be a sight to see.” you tut, hands grabbing at his arm as you hurry him through the halls. “it’s a shame i’ve already killed them.”

“a shame indeed,” you agree, and he allows you to push him into a chair before you’re disappearing into the bathroom. you’re back in no time, a box full of medical supplies clutched in your hands, and sukuna hums to himself as he relaxes in his seat.

you clean him with gentle hands, frowning and sighing as you clear the blood away to see where his skin has been cut deeply. he nearly feels a twinge of guilt when he notices the gloss to your eyes and hears your sniffle, but it’s quickly overshadowed by something else as he sees just how much him being hurt affects you.

others would rejoice in knowing the king of curses had managed to be harmed, and here you were, teary eyed and mopey as you patched him up, touch as gentle and soft as feathers as you covered his wounds in gauzes and bandages, your lips pressing tender kisses to them afterwards.

you’re always content to rest by his feet, seemingly unable to leave him in his lonesome while he’s injured, and he always pulls you up into his lap, arms cocooning around you as you protest and try to free yourself, complaining about injuries that he’d healed the moment you fastened the bandages into place.

[withlovebuccellati]

---

As much as Ryomen Sukuna hates to admit it-

He has a weakness.

"Ryo!" With a sigh, he turned to face you, his crimson eyes briefly flickering to your outfit, a deep crimson dress/suit that was perfectly tailored to your body. The window he was currently looking out of, revealed the dark landscape and the eerie vibe of the moon casting down shadows and light.

The moon seemed to touch your very body, the dim light of the candles unnecessary for Sukuna's eyesight. In fact, it was mainly for the humans who were loyal to him and the servants who couldn't see well in the light. You ran over to him, tripping over your feet and collided with him.

Sukuna didn't even budge and he steadied you with one of his arms. "Watch where you're going, brat." You grin up at him, your e/c eyes sparkling like stars in the moonlight.

Right then and there, he could've spent hours getting lost in the depths, but he snapped out of it and offered a rare half-smile.

But you couldn't tell.

Because it looked like a grimace.

You smirked up at him and reached up to kiss that grimace of a smile. "mwah!" Sukuna softened and reached down to cup your face. "...you are too innocent for this world."

He murmured before pulling you into a deep kiss, savouring the dangerous rush of emotions that came with it.

You and him, in the moonlight with the candles gently flickering.

He pulled back, examining the way you looked at him, gazing at the little imperfections that made you look even more perfect and for a second...

He smiled.

Then a knock arrived at the closed door of the hallway. Pressing a final kiss to your lips, Sukuna turned around to face the window, a small frown working his way up his lips. You sigh and sit down at the only chair in the room a disappointed pout on your face. "What is it," Sukuna asked, a dangerous undertone hidden deep beneath his words.

"The meeting with the others is-"

Sukuna sighed and walked over to you, holding one of his arms out. "Shall we?"

You grin at him and take the arm, gracefully standing up. "We shall."

But sometimes, he couldn't tell if it was a weakness or a strength.

---

soft sukuna is permanently stuck in my brain.

tagging you🤍 @no-b10g-here @lostinwildflowers

[withlovebuccellati]

Summary: four-year-old Yuuji didnt mean to bring up Mr. Gojos crush on you, which of course, leads to Sukuna's harsh teasing.

cw: fem! reader (reader gets referred to as girl, pretty, and mommy), curse words, suggestive language, lion king spoilers (lol)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: i love making sukuna an absolute menace. poor yuuji tho. i think i am going to introduce gojo as a character, because I think it would be entertaining to piss Sukuna off lol.

big brother au masterlist

“Su-kuna!”

“The fuck did you just call me?”

“Language,” You scold, not peering up from your book. Yuuji lays sprawled out on top of the both of you – his head in your lap, and practically purring in content when you gently pet the top of his head, while his little legs are on Sukuna’s thighs. 

Yuuji giggles into your shirt, shaking his head mischeviously. “Bad word Su-kuna!”

In an instant, you feel the toddler being ripped away from your lap with a tiny screech. The noise startles you, and you perk up from your book to look to where the boy has gone to. But, you aren't surprised to see him dangling in the air by his ankle – Sukuna’s long fingers skillfully hold onto Yuujis chubby little leg tight enough to not drop him, but gently enough to not cause physical harm. 

The boy doesn't seem to mind this position, being in it so frequently. Giggles and squeals leave the toddler's mouth as he stares at his now upside down brother. “You learning how to speak correctly?”

Yuuji nods his head, and his hands try to reach for Sukunas shirt. You rest your head on the man's shoulder, chuckling at the boy who was squirming in the air. “Uh-huh! F-Fush-i-guro taught me!” The dark haired toddlers last name was hard to pronounce, and it was amusing watching how Yuuji sounded it out.

Sukuna makes a loud groaning noise and you cover your mouth to hold back another laugh. “Of course you made friends with Gojo’s new brat. First he hits on my girl, and now his new kid is gonna manipulate this idiot.” He shakes Yuuji in the air to demonstrate his point, ignoring the squeals. 

You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Just because Megumi taught Yuuji how to say your name correctly, doesn't mean the kid is manipulating him. Y’know Yuuji struggles with words sometimes.” You watch as the child in turn shakes his head in defiance, letting out a “Nu-uh!” that only makes you smile. You turn back over to your lover, kissing his cheek. “Aw, does it make you sad that our little Yuuji is growing up?”

“No,” he quickly rebuttals, “Brat isnt growing up fast enough. I am mad that you're not denying the fact that the white haired idiot is flirting with you.” You know that wasn't the full truth, but alas, Sukuna was extremely stubborn and would never admit that he didn't want his brother to grow up. 

“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo thinks you are pretty!” Yuuji announces, beaming at you from the air. You hold back a wince, smiling awkwardly back at the innocent words of the toddler. You watch as the boys cheeks begin to flush from all the blood rushing to his head, and immediately as if sensing it, Sukuna flips over the boy and instead places him on his lap, holding onto the back of his neck.

The action makes you smile, noticing the thumb that rubs gently at the pale skin. But when you glance at Sukuna, you notice quickly that he was anything but happy. Sukunas dark eyes twitches, flickering to you, and he speaks between his teeth. “Did he now? I may need to have a talk with Mr. Gojo next time I pick the little pest up. Does Fushiguro say anything else?”  

“Sukuna,” you whine, realising that the hold on the boys neck was not out of affection – instead was used to trap the boy while he was questioned. “Y’know Gojo is alot. He just wants to–”

“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo has a crush on Y/N!”

“Yuuji!” 

“B-But, Y/N has a crush on brother,” the boy concludes, furrowing his eyebrows with a small nod. “Right, Ku–um–Su-kuna?” He turns up to his brother, doe eyed with his head slightly cocked to the side in question. 

In response, Sukuna ruffles his hair, nearly sending the boy landing on his back. But, instead he giggles at the rough treatment, shutting his eyes and trying his best to stay upward. “The biggest crush. You make sure to tell the little brat that. Or else Mr. Gojo is going to try take her away.”

Your eyes widen and you push onto the broad shoulders. “Sukuna! You're going to get him all worked up!” You exclaim, knowing the very sensitive (regarding you or Sukuna) child very well by now. You turn to the boy, whose own eyes widen as he trying to process the words. “Gojo is not trying to take me away.”

“He is going to take her away if you don't do anything, and little Megumi is going to have a new mommy.” Sukuna was grinning at the boy, as if his brother's fearful expression pleased him. You knew that he was being purposely dramatic – Gojo wasn't even technically Megumi's father, if there was a chance that you guys would ever get together (near zero) you would definitely not be the boy's new mom. But alas, Sukuna continues on with his words. “Thats why whenever you see the two of them talking you have to make sure you to scream as loud as possible.”

You cover the mans mouth before you he can spewl any more nonsense, but it was too late. Yuuji was already tearing himself from the man's lap and into yours – his lips begin to wobble and his eyes flood with tears. “Is that what you two talk about when I am with Mr. Nanami,” he warbles, thinking back to the multitude of times he has held onto his preschool teachers hand and watched you smile at the white haired man. 

“No love,” you reassure, turning your attention instead from scolding your lover to consoling the child. “Sukuna is being mean again. Don't listen to him. Mr. Gojo and I are friends.” You ignore the look that Sukuna shoots you, showing how displeased he is at the idea of you being friends with his least favorite person. 

The boy sniffles, wiping his little fists on his face. “I-I dont want you to be Fush-i-guro’s mommy. You have to stay with me and Kuna! P-Please?” He doesn't even attempt to say his brother's name correctly, forgetting how he started the conversation all together. He was focused on trying not to cry, because his brother was sure to tease him, but it wasn't working out very well.

You kiss at his chubby cheeks, shaking your head with an exasperated look on your face, wondering how the hell you got to this conversation. “I am not, promise. I'm not going anywhere. Even if your brother is the worst, brattiest, malicious person alive, I have kinda grown attached to him. Besides, if I left who would I have movie nights with?”

“I am not a–” You shoot Sukuna a nasty glare, and he in return lets out an astonished laugh, but shrugs without care.

Your words make Yuuji perk up from your lap, and his eyes widen with glee. “You like movie nights too?” He was always begging for the three of you to watch movies together, but Sukuna always denies him considering it would end up being a cheesy Disney movie that Yuuji would fall asleep not even twenty minutes into.

“I love movie nights. Do you want to have one tonight?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sukuna butts in, and you spare him a glance. “Babe, we have plans tonight, remember?” He tilts his head to the side suggestively and you roll your eyes at him.

“Not anymore. Me and Yuuji are going to watch…”

“Human Earthworm 2!” The boy interjects, completely forgetting about his previous experiences with the movie, not good ones.

You poke at his cheeks, shaking your head. “I was thinking The Lion King.” 

“Yes!”

“No,” Sukuna groans, covering his eyes with his palm.

You look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “No? Why are you putting your input in? You're not watching it with us.”

Sukuna, never have been told this before, looks appalled. “The fuck you mean?”

“Bad word!” Yuuji points to him in accusation, but Sukuna just ignores him.

You cock your head to the side, a sly grin pulling at your face. “You're not invited.”

“Why not?”

The two of you make eye contact for a long second, and after a moment or two, Sukuna sighs. “You're really mad about that?” You don't say anything, just continuing to stare at him. “Okay fuck–Yes that is a curse word, astute observation you brat. I am sorry for making the kid cry again.”

“And?”

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, but you hold your ground. Then, he turns to the boy with a sigh. “Dont scream when you see Gojo and Y/N talk, alright?” He jabs his finger into the boys chest and Yuuji nods his head rapidly in understanding. But, a foxish grin pulls at the mans face and he says, “Instead…The moment you hear him talk to her, you bite his leg.”

He barks a laugh at the confused face of his brother, but when he looks up to you, the smile falters. “Okay, c’mon it was a jo–”

You point your finger to the door. “Couch.”

“You can't kick me out of my own room!”

You don't move your finger. Yuuji glances at you, cocks his head to the side, and then mimicks your action. “Couch!”

The three of you go silent for a long minute, and at this point the boy's hand begins to tremble from holding his hand out for too long. Eventually when Sukuna realizes that there was no point of reasoning, he lets out a dramatic sigh, before crawling out of bed. 

When he notices your smug smile, he flips you off and you can't help but laugh at that. “I am coming back after the movie is done, ya hear?”

“If Yuuji does not fall asleep,” You tease in return, knowing the boy well, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. 

His eyes flicker to the boy who was snuggling up to your chest, trying to find a comfortable position to watch the movie in. Sukuna chuckles to himself, opening up the door, before turning back to the kid one last time. “Hey brat,” he calls.

“Hm?” 

“The father lion–Mufasa. He is my favorite character, so you'll bound to like him a lot. In fact, I sure do wonder if you'll get attached,” he muses, and your eyes widen when you realize what he is saying. Anything that is linked with Sukuna, Yuuji immediately falls in love with. This was bound to cause hysteria. “Enjoy the movie guys! Y/N have fun!” He calls, before shutting the door.

You pause for a moment, sighing into your hand. “Kuna likes the father lion? I want to see!”

You tried everything to avoid turning on the movie after that. But Yuuji, like his brother, was stubborn, and he desperately wanted to see the lion. He grew attached very quickly in that short period of time.

Deep laughs rumble through the house when Yuuji begins to sob over the animated lion's death. You lock the door, and Sukuna stays the night on the couch.