Cursed to Love You

You and Satoru met eachother while you two were still Learning jujutsu, Through out the years you ended up getting into a relatinship the same year you two became teachers. It ended really badly almost a year ago. Satoru absolutly hates you and you know it, but the unexpected happens...

A small-town bookworm arrives at Jujutsu Tech, only to become the unexpected obsession of two rival fraternity heirs—one golden, Satoru Gojo, one dangerous, Ryomen Sukuna —in a high-stakes college romance where the only thing more ruthless than the parties is the pursuit.

A hot reader x all seven Hashira ship from Demon Slayer, reimagined as a modern mafia AU where you're the contract wife of seven cold crime-boss husbands forced home by lockdown.

One accidental collision with the world's biggest celebrity changes everything. You just wanted to live a quiet life, but now you are dragged into some celebrity drama - who will you pick and choose?

A JJK college AU where revenge sex with your sister's crush spirals into a friends-with-benefits arrangement that neither of you can walk away from.

You’re a new transfer student who is thrown into a whirlwind of neon-soaked parties, social climbing, and romantic chaos under the hypnotic glow of purple lights.

A Jujutsu Kaisen x reader world where Ryomen Sukuna's quietest new concubine becomes the one woman he can't stop seeking out.

His Favorite Enemy.

Reina Shido and Satoru Gojo have never gotten along. She sees him as reckless and irresponsible; he sees her as rigid and infuriatingly closed-off. After a brutal mission and too much alcohol, one reckless night blurs years of hostility into something neither of them planned.

He is the King of Curses. He has unmade emperors. He has named the dark and watched it answer. The country trembles in its sleep when he turns in his. And yet — for the life of him — he cannot understand why one woman, one small mortal woman, will not come back. He has not slept since you left. He has not eaten. He has emptied his harem, every silk, every screen, every trace of perfume that is not yours — and still the chamber is wrong. Still the bed is cold. Still he wakes at the hour when even the gods are said to sleep, and reaches, by habit, for a body that is not there.