Is love a curse - Sukunaxreader / Gojoxreader

Ryomen Sukuna

My eyes flicker to the picture on my nightstand of Gojo and me.Gojo's soft white hair, like a cloud, and enchanting blue eyes, like the ocean's depths, look back at me. I remember standing in his warm embrace, my hair flowing freely and cascading down my shoulders. He was smitten, his smile a beacon of pure happiness, his eyes crinkling with joy. A sigh, heavy with nostalgia, escapes me.

How long has it been now? Four months? It was almost half a year since we had seen each other after our breakup. The days have been a blur, filled with a constant ache in my chest and a longing for his presence. My fingers tap against my cheeks, popping a scoop of ice cream and turning it to my mouth. The spoon tings inside my mouth as I look down at the book about Ryomen Sukuna. Lately, reading fictional books was the only way to keep my mind off the devilishly handsome man.

Tears welled up and leaked out, dripping on the pages. With a shake of my head, my hair went flying. Why wouldn't Gojo love me? Was I truly not enough for him? I roll my eyes at my intrusive thoughts, turning the book's page. It had 100, to be exact, and I had read the book more than I should have tried to keep my mind out of this reality. "Last page," I groan at myself. The truth is I didn't want to end the story. I wanted to keep reading about Sukuna. Despite his evil behavior, he was interesting. And I could bring myself to accept the fact that this man was just naturally evil. I turned the last page, expecting a blank one, yet there was another page instead. My brows crinkled in confusion. Maybe I had smoked too much weed today, "Fuck off," I grumbled to myself. Yet the page remained. I started reading the text written inside. However, my eyes could barely process the words. It was some sort of... spells? A summoning? was what I tried to guess, my eyes wide like saucers, "Please fucking joke," I pleaded as if the empty air would give me any sort of answer.

There was a feeling in my stomach; it was excited. My finger rushed toward the page, pressing my finger to the words, and a sharp prick hit my fingers. Blood ran down in tiny beads of crimson. A frown forms on my face, and I see a small paper cut. "Ouch," My finger retreats toward my mouth as a single drop of blood rushes toward the semi-blank page. I can't bring myself to blink; the scene unfolding in front of me was enough to make you go insane. Ancient words form in my head without reason, making me chant them in a low voice.

There was no such thing as a spell; even if they existed, no one would have dared to summon a curse, much less a king. Yet I could only laugh at how easily the words fell off my tongue. My vision blurred, and I fell forward; my head hit the bed with a soft thud, yet, in no moment, it turned darker and darker. I don't know how long it has been since I fell unconscious, nor do I know how much time has passed when I open my eyes once again.

As I inhaled deeply, my senses slowly returned, and I found myself awakening on a bed adorned with smooth, white silk sheets. The gentle morning light poured in through the windows, enveloping the room in a comforting warmth. Wincing at the throbbing sensation in my head, I cautiously attempted to adjust my position, the dull ache intensifying with every movement. Gradually blinking away the haze, I surveyed my unfamiliar surroundings. The room exuded an air of timeless elegance, a stark contrast to the contemporary style of my own dwelling. The sheets beneath me felt exquisitely soft and plush, their generous size a departure from what I was accustomed to. Alert and slightly disoriented, I sat up swiftly, taking in the vintage allure of the space. "This doesn't seem right," I sighed. I closed my eyes, rubbed them, and then reopened them at the sensation of a sudden shift beside me..I suck in a sharp breath, my eyes cutting toward the movement; a man lying asleep on his stomach, his upper body uncovered as he only had his underclothes. I froze at the sight; I could only blink in disbelief; his back had weird markings. His large frame sprawled on the bed like he was trying to take most of the space. 'No fucking way," I am sure my eyes were the size of saucers as I slowly shuffled myself backward, away from the bed and the unknown male. I could feel my eyes wanting to blink, but I wouldn't let them as I stared at the man I had seen in the book I read a hundred times.  Was that Ryomen Sukuna? Was he right beside me on the bed, shirtless and fast asleep? My knees were pressed close to my chest, my gaze refusing to leave the giant mass. He slept for a long while, allowing me to take the man in fully. Unlike the book's description of the man, he was handsome and looked human despite the unique markings. Ryomen's hair was short and messily sat on his head, with bangs in the front. I couldn't deny how his hair looked tempting, wanting to touch the soft strand. But why? The man beside me was evil, an outcast in society. Even humans loathe the idea of curses.