in which... James revels in reader's mind-numbing love for arm strokies.
warnings: none, just fluff!
author's note: this is entirely self-indulgent because I go fully non-verbal when my arms or legs are stroked, like fingertips very gently running over the skin. my brain shuts down.
The apartment is busy when you walk in, the volume of chatter at a low hum as the nearly dozen people in Liv and Bach's living room maintain separate conversations. Liv lights up at the sight of you sneaking in and grabs the homemade snacks out of your hands.
"I'm so glad you could make it," she says with a soft smile, pulling you into a brief hug.
It's meant to just be a quiet night in with some friends, probably watching movies and playing board games. Drinks are available for anyone who wants some, but it's not meant to be a crazy night.
"I'm glad I could make it too," you agree. "Who all's here already?"
"Well you're the last person in so the final count is you, Sabina, Josh, Flo, both Arthurs, Will, and James. And obviously me and Isaac."
At the mention of James' name, your gaze darts around the open living room until your eyes meet his. He sends a wide smile your way; you thank Liv again and walk over to take the open seat next to James on the couch.
"Did you come all the way from Brighton just to see me?" you quip as you drop into the spot on his left.
"Well I sure didn't come to see Will," he says, earning a playful sneer from the man in question.
You join in the conversation James had been having with Arthur Hill and the night runs along smoothly. Liv puts a movie on as background noise, but everyone keeps bopping around into different discussions until it finally culminates into a big group talk, with everyone circled around the living room on couches, chairs, and the floor.
"I go weak in the knees when Isaac plays with my hair," Liv says when asked about her romantic weaknesses.
"And I go weak in the elbows when she plays with mine," Isaac adds.
This started a round of everyone admitting what they liked their partners - current or otherwise - to do, and it inevitably made its way to you.
"What about you, Reader?"
"Oh, uh..." You felt your face heat up in embarrassment - it wasn't necessarily a weird admission, you just didn't know the actual term for it. "I've always been a sucker for... I guess strokies is what I've called them? Like when you really lightly trail your fingers over your skin," you explained. "I swear my brain shuts off - I go fully non-verbal."
"Oh, I love those," Flo agreed. "Can't say they affect me quite as much, but they do give me butterflies."
And just like that, conversation continued to shift from topic to topic. People stood to get snacks or use the restroom, but they always seamlessly re-entered like they never left. Nights like these are always so comforting.
It's not until nearly an hour later that you feel an arm sling over your shoulders - James' arm, specifically. You turn and give him a look.
"I don't even get a fake yawn with it?" you joke with a smile.
He pulls his arm back to his side and asks, "If you were a pirate, would you have your parrot on this shoulder," tapping your right shoulder, "or this one?" He reaches around again, letting his hand settle against your left arm.
"That was smooth, I'm actually blushing," you say with a laugh.
Being physically affectionate with your friends wasn't new to you, especially with Will or James, so you don't think anything of him pulling you to his side.
And not long after, you don't think anything at all.
It always starts slowly, like sinking into a pool of warm water. James' fingertips trace aimless shapes where his hand sits on your bicep, running up and down the skin slowly. First your breathing slows, then your eyes get a bit droopy, and then you fully zone out, leaning into James' side as your vision stays unfocused on a bowl on the coffee table.
Around you, unbeknownst to you, your friends slowly catch on when you're no longer piping up in the conversation. James bites back a laugh at the state of you - not to make fun of you, but because you weren't even kind of exaggerating earlier. And yet he continues trailing his fingers along your skin, watching you fondly as you drift away.
"Hey Reader?" Liv says, a small smile creeping onto her lips.
Your head darts in her direction, but your eyes stay droopy and you only hum in acknowledgement.
"You doing good?" she asks.
You nod with a sleepy smile and hum an "mhm," letting your eyes fall fully closed as you lie heavier against James' chest. As you shift in his hold, you give him better access to the rest of your arm. His touch trails lower, even brushing your hand, and you sigh in relief as you let yourself fully melt into James' big, warm arms.
You're not sure how much later it is - because you're not quite sure of anything for a minute - when you gradually come back to reality, but it's darker outside and everyone has settled down for a movie. That's when you realize you had fallen asleep when you curled into James. His arm is still around you, now with a blanket draped over your shoulders. You slowly ease back into a proper sitting position and his arm slips onto the back of the couch.
"Welcome back," he says quietly to not interrupt the movie.
"What time is it?" you ask groggily.
"About 8:15."
"You let me sleep for an hour?" you whisper-shout.
James just shrugs. "You looked peaceful and comfortable - I didn't want to interrupt that."
Even though you're a little bit upset you missed out on an hour of time with your friends, you feel like this opened something new with James. This was a different type of intimacy, and you were going to make sure it got explored.
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“You’re shaking,” you mumble, focusing on screwing up the eyeliner pen in your hands.
“No I’m not,” James responds quietly. But he can feel the trembling of his hands where they rest at the small of your back.
He doesn’t even know why. He’s not really nervous about going on stage - no more than usual, anyway. He’s not overwhelmed by noise or people; it’s just you and him in his dressing room, soundtracked by piano instrumentals through a Bluetooth speaker. And he’s had other people do his eyeliner before. Admittedly, none of his bandmates has ever straddled his lap in order to do it, but it’s hardly a new position for you.
Maybe it’s just because it’s you.
You grin down at him. “Okay,” you chuckle. James watches you intently through dark eyes. The scented dehumidifier on the dressing table momentarily breaks the silence, spurting up a cloud of steam behind James’ head. Almost immediately, the room smells intoxicatingly of roses. Just for a moment, your eyes dart up to the fog in surprise. When they slip back to his face, his eyes haven’t left you. Gently, his hands squeeze at your back. Their grip doesn’t loosen.
Your smile softens. “Come here, Pete Wentz.” Steadily, you bring your fingers up to his face. His eyes flutter closed as your fingertips run up his cheekbone, until they can gently stretch out his right eyelid.
Despite his hands still tremoring where they hold you, James stays still as you touch the eyeliner pencil to his lash line. Your knees dig more into his thighs than they do the plush leather of the sofa, keeping you settled snugly on his lap. No moving for you, either.
Once his right eye’s done, you lean back into his hold, your hand falling to rest against the hair peeking out of the unbuttoned collar of his white shirt. Below your palm, through the heat of his skin, you can just feel the thump of his heart steady and sure.
You tilt your head, guiding his face to the side with the hand that still holds the eyeliner, checking your handiwork. Hmm. It’s a little bit wonky, but not enough to be noticed by the thousands of fans already queuing up outside to see him. He’ll sweat most of it off on stage anyway.
You settle back into place, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Your lip gloss stains his stubbly skin. A smirk grows on your lips, but you don’t say anything. James grins back at you, no doubt thinking you’re smiling at him. You can’t resist cupping his face and kissing him properly.
When you separate, you’re straight back to work. Holding the eyeliner aloft between your faces, you close one eye as you release more of the pencil, eyeballing how much you’ll need. You hum along to the instrumental underneath your breath, focused on the pencil.
Slightly blurred in your peripheral vision, you don’t notice James staring up at you, eyes darker and pupils blown wider. His hands have stopped shaking.
You lower the pencil, and are pinned suddenly by the weight of his stare. Even with only one of his eyes made up, highlighting his thick lashes and the golden flecks of his eyes, he looks beautiful.
He slides his hands up your back, into your hair, and nudges your face back to his with just an ounce of strength. Nothing matters to him - not his half made-up eyes, not the crew beginning to bustle around in preparation outside, not the fans causing a ruckus beyond the arena walls. Nothing, besides his hands in your hair, your body in his lap, and your lips on his.
“I’ve got to…” you try to speak into his mouth, but his lips are relentless. “.... do the other eye.”
He ignores you for a moment longer, until a crash outside, followed by raised voices, makes him finally pull back with a groan. Gulping, you watch his Adam’s apple bob beneath a patch of missed stubble on his throat.
“That had better not’ve been one of my guitars.”
His face is definitely covered in lip gloss now, and he shines like a disco ball as he lifts his head, eyes glazed.
“I hope it was,” you grumble jokingly, still panting slightly from his kiss. He pokes you in the side, chuckling. “If you stay still for just one more second, I’ll let you up and you can find out.”
James wrinkles his nose, and pretends to dodge away from you. With a little tap of the eyeliner pencil on his forehead, he’s back to sitting like an angel, looking up to the ceiling as you finish off the other eye.
“There,” you finally mutter, tossing the eyeliner to the sofa. You hold his cheeks once more, checking the lines are even. Close enough.
Outside, a babbling drone of excited conversations, lost within each other, echoes down the backstage hallways. The doors have opened. There’s a knock on the dressing room door.
You smile softly at James, leaning forward for just one more kiss. There’s another knock on the dressing room door, firmer this time. It breaks your kiss, but James bumps his nose with yours, grinning. His black-framed eyes glimmer in the low light.
Not happily, but quietly. In the way you do when you’re too tired to fight disappointment anymore.
The venue is loud even before the doors open, the kind of hum that seeps into his bones. Final show of tour. Last night of living out of a suitcase, last night of adrenaline crashes and post-show silence, last night of everything being too much and not enough at the same time.
And you’re not here.
You told him weeks ago you wouldn’t be able to make it. Work commitments, travel, timing – all of it stacked up in a way that made it impossible. He’d pretended it was fine. Had meant it, mostly.
Still, he checked his phone before soundcheck anyway. Just in case.
Nothing.
Now he’s pacing backstage, guitar warm against his shoulder, crowd noise bleeding through the walls. He runs through the setlist in his head like muscle memory will keep him steady.
Will claps him on the shoulder. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” James says. “You’re being weird, by the way.”
He’s been hovering all afternoon, offering help he doesn’t usually offer, asking questions that don’t really need answers. Every time James asks where his family are sitting tonight, Will just shrugs and goes, “Sorted, mate. Don’t stress.”
So when Will grins and says, “Am I?” James narrows his eyes.
“What have you done?”
“Nothing,” Will says far too quickly. “Go play your show.”
The lights drop before James can push it.
The crowd erupts.
He steps out on stage and lets instinct take over – voice strong, nerves dissolving into sound. The first few songs fly by. He’s locked in, sweating, smiling, alive.
Between songs, he glances up toward the balcony.
He doesn’t expect to see anything different. Just silhouettes, waving arms, maybe his mum leaning forward like she always does, eyes bright.
And then-
He sees you.
For half a second, his brain refuses to process it.
You’re standing with his family, tucked into the balcony section like you’ve always belonged there. His mum’s got an arm around your shoulder. His sister is leaning in to say something that makes you laugh. You’re here.
Looking right at him.
James stops breathing.
The room tilts.
His fingers fumble the next chord, just slightly, enough that he hears it. His mouth opens before his brain can catch up.
“Oh-” he laughs into the mic, stunned. “Okay, hold on. Sorry. Sorry. I just-”
The crowd laughs, thinking it’s a bit.
James is staring at you like he’s seeing a ghost.
You lift your hand in a small wave, grinning, eyes shiny with the thrill of finally being caught. He swallows hard, shakes his head, breathes out a disbelieving laugh.
He’s barely holding it together.
Will, watching from the side of the stage, gives him a subtle thumbs-up.
The rest of the set feels unreal. James plays on autopilot, but every time he looks up, you’re there – clapping, singing, leaning into his mum during the slower songs. It feels intimate in a way that nearly undoes him.
This wasn’t a coincidence.
You planned this.
When the final song ends, James barely hears the applause. He bows, waves, mouths a quick what the fucktoward Will, then disappears backstage the second he can.
He doesn’t even make it to the green room before he sees you.
You’re already there, slipping through the corridor with his family, trying not to laugh at how fast he’s moving toward you.
“You’re evil,” he says breathlessly, hands immediately finding your waist. “You’re actually evil.”
You grin. “Hi.”
“Hi?” he laughs, a little hysterical. “You told me you couldn’t come.”
“I couldn’t,” you say softly. “Not without help.”
He looks past you, suddenly understanding. “Will.”
“Will,” you confirm.
James drops his forehead to yours, eyes closed. “I saw you with my mum.”
“She’s very welcoming,” you say. “Told me where to stand so you’d see me.”
He exhales a shaky laugh. “I nearly forgot how to play guitar.”
“That explains it,” you tease him gently.
“Don’t,” he groans, then pulls you into a hug so tight it knocks the air out of both of you. “You have no idea what that meant to me.”
You press your face into his shoulder. “I wanted you to finish tour knowing I was here. With them. With you.”
He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes soft, voice quieter now.
“Thank you for doing this. For surprising me.”
You smile. “Wouldn’t miss your last show.”
James kisses you then – slow and full of relief. Applause echoes faintly from outside, but in this moment, it’s just the two of you.
When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours again. “Best night of tour.”
“Even with your entire family watching?”
“Especially,” he says. “Because you were with them.”
And for the first time since tour began, James feels like everything has come full circle – music, family, love – all in one room, all exactly where they’re meant to be.
husband!toji taking care of you after you give birth ♡
you finally understood the importance of the type of man you marry.
your whole body was weak, aching, and sore all over after giving birth. for the first couple days afterwards, you were pretty much bedridden at the hospital. but through every agonising hour, toji was by your side, refusing to leave, glued to an uncomfortable chair beside you.
after day two, you finally regained some energy and movement. the nurses suggested you try to walk and take a shower, get your body back into commission. toji refused to let anyone else help you, practically shooing the nurses away as he helps you out of bed, one strong arm around your waist as he walks you to the bathroom.
you limp a little, wincing still at the lingering pain between your legs. "can’t you just carry me like you usually do when i’m tired?" you whine, holding onto toji for dear life as you pad closer to the bathroom. "y’can do it, baby. few more steps, atta girl," he encourages, supporting you effortlessly with those strong arms.
honestly, you were dying for a hot shower. and to get out of the bulky pads you’re wearing to stop you from pissing yourself.
toji flicks the shower on, then turns back to you, carefully unfastening your maternity gown and letting it pool at your feet. he smiles gently at your still swollen belly, covered in stretch marks, rubbing it with two hands and feeling how empty and soft it was now. "gonna miss this bump."
you place your hands on his shoulders as he helps you out of your underwear, discarding the used pad with his bare hands like it wasn’t covered in all types of bodily fluid.
without an ounce of judgement, he sits you down on the toilet, holding your hand as you relieve yourself, gritting your teeth through the burning sensation. once you finish, you hold onto one of his arms as he wipes you gently, careful not to cause you any discomfort. “still sore?" he asks, leaning in to kiss your forehead.
you nod slowly, letting toji walk you to the shower, the warm droplets beginning to cascade down your skin. you look at him expectedly as the steam begins to fill the small bathroom. "yeah, i’m comin" he says, taking his own clothes off to join you.
your husband steps in with you, pressing his chest to your back, hands steady on your hips as he presses soft kisses to your neck. you sigh in relief, finally able to take a second to breathe after all the chaos.
toji takes the soap from your bag nearby, lathering you in it, then takes a soft sponge and washes you. he’s extra careful, hands unhurried as he cleans you, praising you with that low, gravelly voice. "been so strong these last few days, mama.”
he moves on to your hair, washing and conditioning it thoroughly, doing everything in his power to help you feel refreshed again. once he’s done, he holds you close once more, hands on your soft belly, chin resting on your shoulder.
it was pure bliss — serenity. you both stayed there for a while, enjoying every quiet moment you can get whilst the nurses took your baby for its checkup.
when you exit the shower, he’s already grabbing you a soft robe, helping you into it and grabbing you a fresh pad and pair of underwear. "hold onto me, there ya’ go," he says, slipping your underwear on, up to your knees and sitting you on the lid of the toilet.
he hadn’t even bothered to dry himself off yet, or grab a towel; you were his priority. always.
toji crouches in front of you, sticking your large pad to your underwear. you watch him with a smile, so careful, so focused. he then layers the pad with soothing compresses before helping you back onto your feet, pulling your underwear up and fastening your robe.
"feel ok?" he asks, tucking a stray, damp strand of hair behind your ear.
you smile and nod, too exhausted to dry or brush your hair. you limp back towards your bed, toji follows close behind you in case you fell — quickly grabbing a towel beforehand. he helps you back into bed, pulling the blanket back over you.
"need anythin’ else, baby?" he asks, perching on the end of your bed, hand over your thigh.
"a kiss before i nap for like another ten hours?" you smile, closing your eyes. without having to be asked twice, he leans over, kissing you softly — once on your cheek, once on your lips. "love you," he murmurs."
"mm, love you too."
the room grows silent as you settle in, resting your mind and body. he stays sat with you, rubbing your thigh, still shirtless and dripping wet.
"you better put a shirt on before the nurses come back," you mumble. "on it," he responds with a low chuckle, heading back towards the bathroom.
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the atmosphere was calm, well as calm as it could be with sukuna there.
you sat curled up in his lap while he yelled at toji through his headset for the nth time. you shifted slightly before slowly sliding out of sukuna's lap, he muttered a quick
“where ya goin?” his eyes shifted towards you, now fully out of his grasp.
“bathroom.”
he let out a low hum and returned his hard gaze back to his monitor.
-
“holy shit ryomen, yer washed.” toji snickered through the mic.
“easy to talk when you pick OKC every fucking round.” sukuna snarled back.
“aye back to back dubs speaks for itself.”
“its been two rounds already?” sukuna checked his phone, its been almost 2 hours since you left his lap.
“two rounds of belt? yea bro.” a snort came out from sukunas headphones.
“im hoppin off anyway to go out with my girl. cus i got other shit to do, like my girl. get it? cus i have a girlfriend.” sukuna teased.
“blah blah blah we get it asshat.”
sukuna chuckled to himself before logging off and heading over to barge on you in the bathroom, which was locked? he lifted a heavy knuckle and tapped on the door twice.
“babe, you takin’ a shit?”
a small snort escaped from the other side of the door, “yea ryo ive been shitting for two hours.”
his crimson eyes fluttered into a roll before he twisted the knob again, “okay brat then why is the door locked, let me in.”
needy bastard. “kuna you can wait for like two minutes, im almost done.” you added the final touches to your face before adjusting your dress again. kinda short. eh its fine.
he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed “almost done what? I can smell your body wash, did you wanna go on a date ton-”
the door swung open, revealing your finished look. hair done and neat, makeup on point, gold jewelry layered all over your body, and your new brown mini dress that hugged your body perfectly.
sukuna paused, looked you up and down, eyes immediately turning hungry.
“black shoes or brown shoes?” you cocked a brow at him.
“fuck, you look gorgeous baby.” he answered completely ignoring your question, “where we goin’?”
you puckered your lips and smiled back at him, “thank you. okay so black or brown?”
“brown. and give me like fifteen minutes, I'll be ready.” he bee-lined straight to the bathroom before your manicured hand pressed against his chest, stopping him right in his tracks.
“ryo you can’t come to girls night. I've told you this like a thousand times.”
girls night? It was like someone shot him in the chest right then and there. not only were you looking absolutely beautiful on a night the both of you had off, you were going out with your friends. instead of sukuna. not to mention how much they hated sukuna. the burly mans shoulders tensed,
“nonono, the hell you mean girls night? I thought WE were going out tonight.” it was almost pathetic how whiney his voice sounded. to anyone else it would've been a once in a blue moon sight, unfortunately for you it wasn’t.
“ryo I told you last night that I was going out with them.”
“did not.”
“did too.”
“did not.”
“ryomen i literally told you before we went to bed and you said ‘okay ill drive you.” you pushed past him and slipped on your brown kitten heels, before admiring your full look in the mirror.
“There's no way I said that, I was out cold before you even shut off the light.” he followed your trail like a sulking puppy`. a large six foot something sulking puppy.
“sukuna i promise you i’m not lying.” you paused with your purse and keys in hand.
“fine. but if i get handsy in the car, you cannot blame me. you look so hot.” he grabbed the keys from your hands and opened the front door.
you tsked, “mhm mhm no touching while my girls are in the car.”
“what.”
“we’re picking them up, remember?”
“you’re shittin’ me.”
-
after thirty minutes of being interrogated, looped into gossip, and asked the ‘you’re a guy what do you think?’ question approximately fifteen times, sukuna finally got to the restaurant.
your girls murmured a bunch of rushed thank yous before quickly hopping out of the car and heading into the restaurant. sukunas hand still gripped the wheel,
“thank you for dropping us off kuna.” you leaned over the center console and gave him a peck on the cheek, causing him to turn his head.
“call me if anything.” he responded in a low mumble.
“i know i know.” you smiled before turning to open your door.
“wait.” you paused and turned to look back at your boyfriend who was already outside of the car, he made his way around to your side and opened your door. He held your hand in his large gruff one before pulling you into another kiss, he pulled away just an inch from your mouth, his breath still on yours,
“i’m fucking the shit out of you when you get home.”
you felt the warmth pooling in your cheeks, you bit back a smile and mumbled back
“promise?”
sukunas hands gripped at your waist, before dropping to his sides, a slow huff escaped his nose, “pinky.”
you snorted before walking off, feeling the sting of sukunas hand slapping your ass as you did so.
-
sukuna knew as soon as you called three hours later, slurring every other word, that he would be eating his words that night.
after dropping off your equally drunk friends, he carried you into bed, taking his time removing your make up because he knew you would yell at him if he didn’t, then taking off your heels and dress, changing you into one of his shirts.
“ryo.”
“hm.”
“my friendsss saidd they loveeyou.”
“really?” shocking. considering they mean mugged him all night. didn’t even bother to say his name properly.
you nodded slowly under the sheets.
“why’s that?”
a hiccup escaped your lips, eyes fluttering shut “they said… youmake mee glow.”
“they’re idiots.”
you snorted, “loveeyouu.”
“i love you too brat.”
he couldn’t even be mad at you for blue balling him all night.
it’s late when sukuna returns, shards of moonlight peeking through the blinds of your shared home like pieces of glass. you’d been up late waiting for him, same as every night.
you lift your head up from your palm when you hear the sound of shoes scuffling, tired expression letting up into a soft smile at the sight of your boyfriend. you get up immediately to make your way over.
you don’t notice it: the tension in his features or the almost-scowl on his face, the aura of irritation he’s carrying like a weight. you’re blinded by affection.
“hi, kuna,” you smile sweetly, tiptoeing to wrap your arms around his neck as you lean into him. he tenses up under your touch and you coo sympathetically, rubbing his back. “long day?”
“um, yeah,” sukuna grunts, not moving to reciprocate the embrace. he shifts slightly, irritation radiating off him in waves. “could you let go? ‘m gonna go take a shower.”
he sounds annoyed, you realise, but he’s probably just exhausted. of course you’re gonna try your best to help, and cuddles always helped, at least for you. you could do that.
“nuh-uh,” you reply instantly, smiling as you cling to sukuna tighter. your face drops onto his shoulder, nuzzling as you inhale his heady scent. “you can shower later, let’s cuddle first. i miss you.”
“later.” his voice rises.
you pout childishly. “no, now, you’re tired and i can hug you and —“
“i said, later.” sukuna finally snaps, tone poisonous and voice tight like coiled wire. he crosses his arms, his way of pushing you off without actually doing it. “you just never fuckin’ know when to quit, do you?”
you freeze.
he doesn’t yell, never does, but this is worse somehow. harder to swallow because you can feel the pure anger in it.
you don’t trust your voice enough to respond. slowly dropping your hands off him, you take a quiet, shaky step back. sukuna grunts in approval, rubbing his temples. “i’ve had a long day. can’t deal with you right now.”
that pierces through your heart like a bullet. suddenly, all you’re filled with is hurt and guilt and the slightest twinge of anger. you fight to keep a straight face as your eyes sting.
can’t deal with you right now.
what the hell was that supposed to mean?
sukuna had never once made you feel like a burden, ever. you knew what he was like before you started dating, you’d heard everything about how he fucked people over.
but he always treated you like you were the most precious thing on earth, like you were something to be handled with gentleness. you almost believed it, stupid girl.
now you got it. you understood exactly what everyone had been telling you. he finally got sick of you, eventually realised that you were too annoying. too bright, too nice, too much for him.
but maybe he didn’t have to be such an asshole about it, you think as you bite down on your lip to hold back tears.
“okay,” you exhale, struggling to keep your voice even. “i’m sorry. i, um- i ran you a bath.”
the tense silence is deafening. you swallow, voice growing quieter. “i’ll just go to bed then.”
sukuna doesn’t respond, glaring at something on the floor. you quickly turn around and make your way to the bedroom, the dam quietly breaking as soon as the door’s closed and you're out of his view.
you settle into bed, tucking in with your hands wrapped tightly around your body like a shield. the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut makes you flinch.
the clink of the shower turning on follows right after; he didn’t even use the bath you set up for him.
you hate feeling this way. like you did something wrong and you don’t know what, like he did something wrong and you don’t want to admit it.
quiet sniffles escape you as you close your eyes, feeling the cold tears drip down the bridge of your nose, down your temples. you will yourself to sleep, despite knowing it won’t come.
it’s a long time before you feel a dip in the bed, sukuna’s weight climbing in next to you. you’re in that weird headspace between wakefulness and sleep, but immediately tense awake at the jostling.
it takes a moment before he says anything. almost like he’s hesitating. you hear his heavy breaths.
“hey, baby,” he finally murmurs from behind you, hand reaching out, hovering before he gently puts it on your waist. checking if it’s okay.
you turn rigid, and sukuna retracts his hand like he’s been burned, frowning slightly.
“you’re upset,” he mutters. not a question.
he’s unsurprised when you don’t reply, but he hopes you’ll give him a sliver of a chance anyway. “could you at least turn around?” he grunts. “look at me?”
silence.
he sighs, softer now. he grumbles something under his breath before speaking up again. “please?”
it takes a minute before you begrudgingly shift, rolling over so you’re facing him instead of the wall. you glare up at him, sitting on the covers and looking down at you.
sukuna looks you over.
he thinks he feels something in him crack at the sight of your dried tear tracks, puffy red eyes.
he made you, his sweet, angelic girl, cry. you were just trying to take care of him. only trying to make him feel better, and he snapped at you, and now he feels like the biggest loser on earth. all because of what? a fucking bad day?
idiot, he thinks to himself as he reaches out, both hands cupping your cheeks. he wipes your tears away firmly, so gentle despite it all.
you huff, trying to pull back, but sukuna doesn’t budge. his hands stay on your jaw, soft as his thumbs brush your cheeks.
“let go,” you muster angrily, but it’s a weak attempt.
“no.”
“sukuna, let me go. you’re such an —“
“asshole, i know,” he exhales roughly. his thumbs pause in their ministrations, pressing down on your skin softly. “bitch, jerk, fucking dick. i know. and i’m sorry.”
one hand moves to card gently through your hair, and he feels you grow more pliant under his touch. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you,” sukuna continues. “i had a bad fucking day, people saying the stupidest shit and pissing me off in every way possible. but that wasn’t… i shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
you swallow.
“no, you shouldn’t have,” you mumble, all your anger dissipating into something akin to hurt. you tilt your head down to look at your fiddling fingers. “i thought i did something wrong. or maybe you just finally realised you were sick of me, and you hated me.”
“no, baby —“ sukuna responds, almost desperate as he tilts your chin up to look back up at him. he presses a rough kiss to the side of your mouth, hating to see his bright girl looking so dim. “— fuck, no. you did nothing wrong, yeah? i was an absolute idiot, taking out my anger on you, when you were just trying to be nice.”
you bite your tongue. “you really are,” you say quietly, gaze locked on him. “an absolute idiot.”
“i am, baby,” sukuna agrees, brushing a curl back from your face. “you didn’t deserve that.”
he’s looking at you with not just guilt, but that quiet affection now, the one reserved just for you.
slowly, he bends down but doesn’t yet close the gap. he’s waiting for you to do it, or maybe to pull away if you want to. you give in.
you wrap your arms around his neck, using it as leverage to pull yourself up to meet his lips. he holds you up easily.
the kiss is soft, reverent, sorry, like sukuna’s never kissed before. his passion is still obvious, but it’s gentler now. moulding into something sweeter just for you.
it’s a while before you pull away, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he rests his forehead against yours.
his hands are warm where they’ve slipped under your top, drawing quiet patterns on your hip. you melt into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder with your fingers tangling in the hair at his nape.
“so,” he murmurs, and you feel the vibrations of his voice. “does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”
“maybe,” you mumble, lips twitching. “if you buy me a slice of that strawberry shortcake tomorrow, i’ll consider it.”
“how many ever you want, baby,” sukuna presses a quick kiss to the crown of your head. “i’ll get you the whole damn bakery.”
Nanami had never considered himself a jealous man.
possessive, perhaps, in small ways. protective? certainly.
but jealousy? it was messy. the sort of thing that clouded judgement and made people act irrationally.
Nanami preferred facts.
and the fact was that you were free to spend time with anyone. the fact that your smile didn't belong to him. and the fact that he trusted you completely.
but why—why had he spent the last twenty minutes staring at his phone?
the photo on the screen was harmless for god's sake!
a group picture from a company dinner. you sat near the center, smiling oh so sweetly to the camera.
but the problem is there was a man sitting beside you.
nothing appropriate or suspicious. just a coworker. a coworker whose arm was slung casually over the back of your chair.
a coworker who seemed to appear in every photos your friend posted. a coworker whose name you had mentioned bunch of times this week without realizing it.
Nanami locked his phone and set it face down on the table.
he hated this feeling. Not because he distrusted you.
there was no reason for the knot tightening in his chest.
there is no logical explanation for why he suddenly found himself wondering whether you smiled that brightly around everyone. or whether you looked at everyone the way you looked at him.
the apartment door opened suddenly, snapping him out of his trance.
"Kento?" your voice drifted through the hallway.
you stepped into the living room, smiling when you saw him.
"There you are."
Nanami returned the smile automatically.
but as you sat beside him and started talking about your day, he found himself listening for one name. and when it finally appeared in the conversation? his jaw tightened.
your words faltered. "Kento?" you looked at him carefully.
for a moment, neither of you spoke.
then, quietly, you asked. "Is there something wrong?"
he met your gaze briefly before looking away.
the silenced stretched. not uncomfortable, just heavy. Nanami wasn't entirely sure how to answer.
you knew your husband too well to notice when something was off.
"Kento."
"Hm."
"You're doing that thing."
his brows furrowed slightly. "What thing?"
"The thing where you pretend nothing's bothering you."
you moved closer on the couch, turning toward him fully.
"Did something happen at work?"
"No."
"Did someone annoy you?"
"Not particularly."
"Are you tired?"
"Always."
your expression only softened.
your fingers reached for his hand without thinking. you interwined your fingers with his.
"C'mon, talk to me?"
you waited patiently, giving him space to speak.
Nanami hated that he was making this difficult.
eventually, he said, "Who is he?"
you blinked. "...who?"
"The coworker."
your eyes widened slightly. "Oh."
for several seconds, you said nothing.
then, "Are you jealous?"
Nanami closed his eyes briefly. "Perhaps," he sighed.
your expression softened even further.
you shifted closer until your shoulder rested against his.
"I found him annoying," you started. "He talks too much, he steals food, he's arrogant too."
the corner of Nanami's mouth twitched. you caught it immediately.
"There he is."
"I was here the entire time."
"No, you were somewhere in your own head."
you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.
"I don't smile because of him," you sighed. "I smile because i was having fun."
his gaze softened. "I know," he admitted.
"Then why are you suffering by yourself?"
a faint huff escaped him, not quite a laugh.
"Because," he pulled your joined hands closer. "I was hoping it would stop if i ignored it."
"Did it work?"
"No."
you laughed. "That was unfortunate."
he laughed along with you. "It was."
the knot in his chest began to loosen.
not because the jealousy had vanished. but because you were looking at him exactly the way you always had.
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Sukuna barely looked up from the couch, one arm stretched over the back cushions while the TV played quietly in the background. “I am serious.”
You stared at him in complete disbelief. “No, because there’s actually no way you’re defending her right now.”
“She apologized.”
“After humiliating me in front of everyone.”
“She said it as a joke.”
“Oh my God.”
You stood up so fast the blanket tangled around your legs. Sukuna finally glanced over then, red eyes following you as you paced around the living room with the kind of anger that made your chest hurt.
It had started simple. A stupid dinner with friends, and ofc a stupid comment. And now somehow your own boyfriend was sitting there defending the person who upset you.
“She literally laughed at me,” you snapped. “Everyone at the table heard it.”
Sukuna shrugged once. “You’re dragging it.”
That made something in you go completely silent for a second. Not yelling or dramatic silent, just hurt. Because it wasn’t really about the girl anymore, it was about him not getting it.
You looked at him carefully, almost waiting for him to realize he’d gone too far on his own (He didn’t.)
“She embarrassed me,” you said quieter this time.
“She does that with everybody. That’s her humor.”
“And somehow I’m supposed to just be okay with that?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You literally are.”
Sukuna sighed, rubbing a hand over his face like this conversation was exhausting him. “You’re acting like she murdered somebody.”
“And you’re acting like I’m crazy for being upset.”
“That’s not what I said either.”
“But it’s what you mean.”
The apartment fell quiet again, except for the TV that neither of you were watching anymore. Sukuna leaned back against the couch. “You take everything personally.”
Your face twisted immediately. That one hit hard because he knew that was something you were insecure about. Knew you worried sometimes that maybe you were too sensitive. Too emotional. Too much, and hearing it from him made your throat burn.
“Okay,” you said softly. That soft tone made his eyes flick upward again. You grabbed your phone from the coffee table.
“Where are you going?”
You laughed once under your breath. Not a happy laugh. “I don’t know. Away from you for, like, ten minutes before I say something mean.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“There you go again.”
You headed toward the bedroom, and he finally sat up properly. “Come on.”
“No.”
“You’re seriously this upset?”
You turned around so fast your hair whipped over your shoulder. “Yes, Sukuna. I am.”
Now he looked annoyed too. “Why the hell are you acting like I betrayed you?”
“Because you did.”
That shut him up. You could see it happen in real time. The irritation on his face faltering for just a second. But you were too upset now to stop.
“I tell you somebody hurt my feelings, and your first instinct is to defend them instead of me.”
“She’s our friend.”
“And I’m your girlfriend.”
His jaw tightened. “You want me to lie to you?”
“I wanted you to care.” The room went completely still after that. You hated how emotional your voice sounded, aboslety hated how your eyes were burning now too.
You turned away before he could see it properly and walked into the bedroom, shutting the door harder than you meant to. Not slamming, but enough to show you were pissed.
The silence afterwards felt awful.You sat on the edge of the bed, arms folded tightly over yourself, while trying not to cry over something so stupid, which somehow only made you more emotional. Because maybe it wasn’t stupid. You just wanted him on your side, that was all.
After a few minutes, the bedroom door creaked open. You ignored him. Sukuna stood there for a second before muttering, “You gonna ignore me now?”
You looked at the wall instead, making him click his tongue softly in response. Then you felt the mattress dip beside you.
“You’re dramatic.”
You wiped under your eye angrily. “Get out.”
“No.”
“You literally told me I was overreacting.”
“You are.”
You looked at him with watery, offended eyes.“Then leave me alone.”
Sukuna stared at you for a long second. And the second he noticed the tears properly, something in his expression shifted immediately. Tiny, but there.
“…seriously?”
You laughed bitterly. “Wow. Sorry my emotions are inconvenient.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
He looked uncomfortable now. Actually uncomfortable, which was rare since Sukuna was usually confident in every argument, every sentence, every opinion. But emotional stuff? Feelings? He handled them like they were bombs.
“I just…” He exhaled sharply. “I didn’t think it was that serious.”
“It mattered to me.”
His eyes flicked away, and that was the problem. To Sukuna, if something wouldn’t hurt him personally, sometimes he didn’t realize how deeply it could hurt somebody else. Especially you. Not because he didn’t care, but because he was stupid sometimes, especially with emotions.
“You know what sucked the most?” you said quietly.
He stayed silent.
“You didn’t even ask if I was okay.”
That one landed. You could literally see it. His shoulders stiffened slightly, expression tightening like he suddenly realized he messed this up badly.
“…shit.”
You looked down at your hands. “I just wanted you to take my side first.”
For once, Sukuna didn’t argue back immediately. Didn’t defend himself. Didn’t call you dramatic, instead he rubbed a hand over his mouth and muttered something under his breath. Then finally–
“…I should’ve done that.”
You blinked. Sukuna rarely admitted fault immediately. The anger in your chest cracked a little, but only a little.
“You made me feel stupid.”
“I know.”
“You kept acting like I was insane.”
“I know.”
“And now I’m crying over dumb friend drama.”
“That part’s still kinda dramatic.”
You glared at him instantly.
“Ryomen.”
“Alright, alright.”
And finally, he moved closer. Big hands grabbing your wrists gently until your arms uncrossed from your chest.
“You know I hate when people upset you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He rolled his eyes softly before pulling you toward him anyway.
You resisted for maybe three seconds.
Then you melted into his chest with a miserable sigh.
“There it is,” he muttered. “C’mere.”
“I’m still mad at you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You’re a jerk.”
“Mhm.”
You could hear his heartbeat through his hoodie. Steady, warm and annoyingly comforting. Sukuna rested his chin on top of your head before speaking more quietly this time.
“For the record… I didn’t like what she said either.”
You pulled back slightly. “Then why were you defending her?”
He looked annoyed at himself now. “Because I thought if I made it seem smaller, you wouldn’t feel as bad about it.”
Your eyebrows lifted. “That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Probably.”
“You thought invalidating me would help?”
“When you say it like that, I sound stupid.”
“Because you were stupid.”
He sighed dramatically. “Alright. Damn.”
You tried not to smile.
Tried very hard.
But Sukuna noticed immediately.
“There you go.”
“Shut up.”
One of his hands slid to your jaw, thumb brushing under your eye gently. His voice got quieter.
“I’m on your side, idiot.”
The softness of it made your chest ache, because Sukuna wasn’t naturally gentle. So when he was, it always felt important.
“You didn’t act like it.”
“I know.”
“And if someone embarrasses me again?”
His eyes darkened immediately. “Then I’ll tell them to shut the fuck up.”
You snorted.
“There she is.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you fully into his lap despite your complaints. “You done being mad now?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“…maybe a little less mad.”
“That’s what I thought.”
You buried your face into his neck with a grumble while his arms wrapped tighter around your waist. And after another quiet second, he muttered against your hair–
“…sorry”
The anger finally disappeared completely after that.
I'm so dead, why do I only write about dick!kuna😭 I'm gonna try brainstorming some other ideas, but assignments are actually killing me.
the party was loud with flashing lights and people swaying back and forth. you were standing with a couple friends, moving to the music casually as they talked. you couldn't really hear them so you just kept dancing.
not even a second later, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and a broad chest against your back.
"people are staring." the person whispered. his breath caressed your cheeks softly. his arm pulled you closer as if to show everyone that you were his and he wasn't sharing.
sukuna swayed with you side to side, kissing your bare shoulder softly and lovingly. he stayed with you the whole night, even staying through a little gossip session with your friends.
when he got to your house he parked and looked at you. he admired you for a few seconds before pulling you into a sweet kiss.
his hands cupped your jaw as his lips moved on yours for a few seconds.
"i'll pick you up for breakfast at nine. be ready."
you hummed, getting out of the car. he followed after you and walked you up to your door.
"get some rest." he whispered while cupping your cheeks. he kissed your forehead before pulling away.
you smiled and kissed his chin.
"good night, kuna."
he placed a hand on your waist and nudged his nose with yours.
"good night, beautiful."
you smiled one last time before unlocking your door and walking in, but before you closed the door you looked at him.
"i love you, sukunatuna."
you closed to the door quickly, but you still heard him mumble a quiet 'don't call me that.'
you walked to your room and threw everything on the bed. you took your heels off your burning feet and laid down.
your phone buzzed next to you.
ryomensoldier : i love you too 🫦
ryomensoldier : wait
ryomensoldier : wrong emoji
ryomensoldier : 🩷
ryomensoldier : its pink like my hair
you : go home kuna
ryomensoldier : fine goodnight 🫦
ryomensoldier : stupid emojis
You give Kai five days to see if he’d run. He doesn’t. Part of you is surprised, but overall, you’re relieved. For five days, nights are spent on the couch. You’re not ready to bring him back to bed yet, still afraid of repeating that night a month ago, but with each passing day, you grow more comfortable. He’s determined to keep his promise this time; determined not to lose you, nor your trust. After all, he has nothing else to live for if he doesn’t have you, he’s told you multiple times.
This night in particular, you’re making coffee again. When you ask for the creamer and he gets it to you in a mere second, you’re stunned.
“That’s going to take me a while to get used to,” you admit.
“I can stop, if you’d like.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s different, but not bad.”
Blood bags from the local hospital have been keeping him going, and ever since his transformation, they’re all he’s ever drunk. Upon hearing this the first time, you were shocked. Kai certainly seems like the type that would go on a blood-binge around town, yet he confessed every time he’d try, he’d picture the victim as you, and couldn’t do it.
He puts a bit of blood in his coffee instead, and you almost gag at the color it turns.
“Don’t let our mugs get mixed up,” you say.
He only winks.
Back on the couch, you cuddle into his chest. A blanket is wrapped around both of you, but it’s only for comfort. His body now self-regulates, and he keeps you warm enough.
As the movie plays, you begin to relax. His ring-clad thumb rubs your shoulder gently, just as it had done months ago before everything was a mess. Kai kisses the top of your head, then rests his lips against the spot.
“I like this movie,” he mutters. “He learns he can rely on her. He doesn’t have to do it all by himself.”
It was one of the first movies you’d ever shown him. It’s been his favorite ever since.
“Mhm,” you agree.
You showed him it to get him to open up to you. To send a subliminal message that you wanted to be a safe person for him, and that he could trust you. It worked.
“I’m sorry I was lost for a while. I didn’t want to lose you while finding myself.”
“It’s okay,” you turn to the side to look at him. You swing your legs around and sit across his lap, rather than beside him. “I’m just glad to have you back.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He kisses your cheek. A steady hand rests on your heart; he can feel it beating through your skin. You smile and curl into him until the credits roll.
That night, when he grabs the blanket to pull over you, you take his hand and stand up instead. He cocks his head in confusion.
“Come up with me?”
He flashes a happy smile, dimples in his cheeks. You finally feel confident enough to bring him back to bed, and there was no way he would blow his second chance. He follows closely up the stairs, eyes trained on your hips, and fights the urge to pick you up. He’d pick you up, toss you over his shoulder and onto your bed, and show you the love you deserve. But you’re not there yet… anymore… he’ll have to start from scratch again, going slowly.
Your room, he quickly sees, hasn’t changed a bit. There’s a bit of dust decorating the furniture, a few clothes strewn loosely over a chair. A stuffed bat sits by your pillow. Signs of love are evident by the wrinkles in the fabric, in the way that some of the inside fuzz has been accidentally pushed to one side of the animal.
“He’s cute,” Kai comments.
You blush immediately, and hurry to hide it.
“Don’t hide him,” he says, just as quickly. “I can tell you love him; I want to meet him.”
A chuckle escapes your lips. “This is Bat, I never named him.”
“Hi, Bat.” Kai waves as if it were a young child. You roll your eyes playfully. “Thank you for keeping my girl company.”
“Caroline gave him to me after they trapped you in 1903. I was so broken, I didn’t leave this room for days.” You then let out a small giggle. “She said it kinda looked like you.”
He can’t deny there’s truth in the blonde’s words, especially now that he’s a heretic. The stuffed creature has big, curious eyes and two sharp, pointed teeth. It looks like he’d be a mischievous thing, given the chance.
“I can see it,” he confirms.
You giggle again. “So Bat’s going to go over here for now…” you lean him against the lamp on your nightstand, “...if you’re ready?”
It’s a vague question asking if Kai’s ready for this step. You still have doubts if he’ll be able to make it through the whole night, even though you desperately hope he can.
The man nods. He swallows hard, visibly, but doesn’t share his fear out loud. Whether reckless or not, you then invite him into your bed anyway. After a quick nightly routine, you’re both climbing beneath the sheets, welcoming their warmth. Kai turns to you immediately, beckoning you closer to him. You inch, but he’s not satisfied until you’re fully in his arms.
When your back makes contact with his chest, he finally relaxes. He smooths down your shirt, running a hand along the length of your body, while burying his face in the curve of your neck. Suddenly, his blood runs cold and he tenses. The fear comes rushing back; the hunger creates a hole in his stomach. You turn to him, sensing something’s wrong. Your movement causes your hips to brush up against his own. His breath hitches in his throat, attention quickly redirected.
“What’s wrong?” You whisper, looking up at him.
“I…” He tries to focus on the touch of your hips or the texture of your shirt, but he can’t. Fear and hunger battle inside him, making him dizzy. His own innate need to protect versus his new, ferine need to kill.
“Kai?”
“Um-”
“What’s wrong?” You ask again, more awake now. He curses himself. You were dozing off in his arms and he’s ruined it.
He decides, then, to be honest about it. “I was tempted for a minute; I could smell your blood right beneath your skin.”
“But-?”
“Your touch. Your hips brushed mine, and it reminded me where I was. That I’m here, with you, and I would never hurt you. I could never.”
You sigh wistfully. Part of you begs to touch him and love him and let everything fall back into place, like how your old relationship used to be, but part of you still holds onto the fear that he might leave again. You want to trust him, desperately, but you’re scared.
“Kai…”
“I know. I’m sorry. I fucked up badly, and I should’ve never left. I should’ve never trusted Bonnie and let her leave me in that stupid prison world, because now everything’s different, because I let my guard down to trust her. I’m so angry at myself.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” you grab his fist that raises to his head in sudden fury. “Don’t hurt yourself; don’t blame yourself. That isn’t your fault.”
“I hate being a heretic, I hate how it’s changed me. It’s changed everything. Now I’m stuck like this for the rest of my life. I just wanted to live, but now I… I don’t know anymore.”
Your lower lip trembles. You drop his hand and reach for his face. “Baby, you were trying to survive. Bonnie did a horrible thing, and you did what you had to do. I’m proud of you for having that kind of strength, and I love you regardless of what you are. I don’t ever want to hear you say you don’t want to live anymore; you’ve come too far to give up now.”
“I don’t know how you could be proud of me after the things I’ve done. I killed my sister at her wedding, Y/N, and you’re still here, saying you love me.”
You’re quiet for a long time, unsure how to respond. Kai looks at you, wondering if this will be the time you finally step away from him. His breath catches in fear. “I could never stop loving you,” you admit, “no matter what happens, no matter who gets hurt, I can’t help myself.” Now it’s Kai’s turn to be quiet. In his silence, you whisper, “please, never hurt yourself. I can’t live without you.”
And neither can he. So when he hears your tearful whisper as clear as day, he nods. “Okay.” Kai slowly moves up on the bed, careful to rest his hand beside you. He lets his chest brush against yours before he comes in to kiss you. You nod, missing his lips, and welcoming them back onto yours. He kisses gently, runs his tongue against your lower lip, then kisses again. It’s all sweet and nothing caustic, unlike his usual tendency to bite. You’d always love when he would, but now, you know why he can’t.
“I’ll never leave you again,” he mumbles against your lips.
“You better not.”
Your hands cupping his face are tempted to move down along his body, but you hold back. You’re both holding back. He puts a hand on your waist, though, and the warmth sparks throughout your body.
As high as the temptation is, tonight isn’t the night. You’re still picking up the pieces of your broken heart, and Kai’s only giving as much love as he dares. You’re healing, and refinding yourselves and rebuilding, but you can’t just pick up from where you left off. Things are different now. Not beyond repair, but different.
꒰ 𓈒 ׁ ︎ ︎ ✿ GOOD @ GOODBYES ! ㅅ `͈ 𓏼 )ა
first kiss 𝑤. ͏͏ sukuna ac. su2kuna ಎ
⎯⎯ ✉️ awky ⨍ reader 2.2k
the only shocking thing about ryomen sukuna was that he was a surprisingly good boyfriend. like, embarrassingly good to you.
he was still the occasional dickhead, obviously. but at least he nice about it. he always went at your pace, never pushed when you got shy or overwhelmed, never made you feel stupid for needing reassurance. hell, he even showed up with a bouquet of lilies for your first “official” date with him.
and the date itself wasn’t anything extravagant either. no fancy rooftop reservation, no over the top attempt to sweep you off your feet. just a quiet little restaurant tucked between buildings, warm lighting spilling across wooden tables while soft music played somewhere overhead.
simple. intimate. perfect for you.
a secluded booth in the corner, sukuna sitting across from you with an unfairly soft look in his eyes whenever you got shy and toyed with your food.
and you were doing fairly well. right up until the date ended that is.
because now here you were, heart hammering violently against your ribs, butterflies wrecking your stomach as you hurried, nearly ran, toward your apartment door, leaving behind one very confused sukuna standing a few steps away.
which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the smoothest way to end a date with your boyfriend.
“oi.”
you froze with your hand on your purse, about to reach for your keys, head snapping up at his voice as he made his way toward you, his hands buried deep in his pockets.
you turned your head slowly, eyes trailing up his tall frame, though looking at him only made things worse; his pink, coral strands faintly glowing under the streetlight, tan skin catching the light, black markings accentuating the sharpness of his features.
yeah. you didn’t stand a chance.
“. . . what?”
he scoffed. “what?” he mimicked under his breath, head tilting slightly, eyes sharp and fixed on you. “you forgetting something?”
your brain only buffered, eyes darting between his face and everything else: left, right, anywhere but him. “no..?” — humming under your breath as you dug through your purse.
lip gloss.
receipt.
wires.
a sonny angel, for some reason . . ?
everything but your keys.
normally, you weren’t this awkward. you just weren’t used to this. dates with people you actually found attractive. emotionally. intellectually. physically. romantically. sexually—
“you regret comin’ out with me?”
oh . . .
for a second you almost forgot he was there. well not really. sure, you tuned him out but you could definitely feel him. you could never really ignore ryomen sukuna; the sound of his breathing, the shift of his weight, his presence pressing against your senses, it was all there.
“what?” you blurted, finally looking at him in the eye.
sukuna leaned against the wall beside your door, pink hair shifting against his forehead, his expression unreadable, save for the faint amusement in his eyes.
“you heard me.”
your brows knitted together, mouth opening, then closing, before finally speaking: “no…”, your voice coming out a soft whisper.
his slitted eyebrow only cocked up at you, a faint laugh escaping his throat. “no?” the single word rolled off his tongue slowly, thick with amusement as he watched you, heat crawling higher up your neck under his stare, your movements growing clumsier the longer he looked at you.
“you’ve been diggin’ through that bag for, what, five minutes now. plus you nearly jumped outta a moving vehicle.” he continued lazily, pushing himself off the wall beside your door. “it makes a man wonder.”
“i’m not doing anything,” you said, quieter now, finally meeting his eyes for half a second before looking away again. “you’re the one who keeps staring me down.”
“mm,” he hummed, “so, lookin’ at you’s the issue.” his eyes flickering over your face once more, slow and unhurried. “that right?”
well, yes, that was part of the problem. but it wasn’t thee problem. because the actual problem was much worse. the actual problem was that you liked sukuna. like. like-liked. and he liked you too.
“well, no! i just—” what an insufferable man. “i really liked going out with you,” voice going a mile a minute before taking a deep breath, lacing your fingers together in front of you, fidgeting under his gaze. “i loved it.. actually.. i’m not trying to run from you or anything.”
“just nervous.”
“nervous?” he repeats after you, the word foreign on his tongue, “that’s what we’re callin’ it? you’re just embarrassed ‘cause you’ve got it bad for your boyfriend.”
your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, heat flooding your face all at once. “what?! no! don’t put words in my mouth.” you blurt, your hand flying up to shove his chest with a dull thud.
sukuna only lets out a low laugh before his hand comes up quickly to close around your wrist mid motion; his grip gentle but firm, holding you there as his other hand stays buried in his pocket. barely trying.
“so… you gonna say bye properly now?”
you gulp, your hand relaxing in his soft grip. “well… how do you want me to say bye?”
sukuna doesn’t answer, instead, he gently lowers your hand between you, scarlet eyes locking onto your softer, pliant eyes.
“your call.”
and the space between you two seems to freeze, soft silence of the night stretching between the two of you. easy on his end, unbearable on yours.
“w—well…” your eyes flick between his for a second before betraying you entirely, dipping down to his lips without meaning to. “i—” you huff. your throat feels dry, yet it feels unreasonable. sukuna wouldn’t judge you, you hope.
“i wanna kiss you… goodbye...”
“platonically,” you added after a moment.
. . .
his brows lifted slowly.
“you wanna kiss me. platonically?”
“um.” your voice came out smaller than intended. “yes.”
“yeah? and i’m sure those pretty little eyes of yours are lookin’ at me real platonically too.”
“that too.”
silence.
then sukuna hummed low in his throat, all amusement, already taking a step back.
“ah. got it.” he turned slightly, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. “well, in that case— have a nice night.”
your eyes widened immediately. “wait—”
he kept walking.
not far. just enough to be annoying.
“sukunaaa,” you whined, hurrying after him before your fingers caught around his forearm, dragging him back to your doorstep. “not like that.”
a soft huff escapes him, his mouth quirking upwards, canines softly refracting the dim light — not quite a smile, but rather satisfaction. “hm?” he glanced down at your hand on his arm. “so now it’s not like that?”
your grip tightens for a second before you realize it and quickly loosen your hand, heat rushing straight to your face. “i—no, i mean—just—don’t pretend you don’t know what i mean…”
his gaze flicks over your face for a second, slow and unreadable, before he scoffs “you’re the one makin’ it complicated.”
“shut up,” you mutter instantly, but there’s no real bite to it, just embarrassment as you finally tug him a little closer.
his hand comes up, settling near your jaw, thumb resting against your warm cheek. your fingers catch lightly at the front of his shirt as you rise onto your toes.
before you could overthink, your lips meet his.
it’s quick. chaste. shy even.
his eyes flutter shut a moment after, his free hand coming out of his pocket to steady you by the waist, warm and heavy, yet restrained, seeping through your clothes.
he doesn’t kiss you back immediately, letting you mold against him. he tilted his head, lips pressing gently against yours; warm, and embarrassingly sweet.
you pull off his lips slowly, a hesitant look in your eyes, your breath catching lightly as you settle back down flat on your feet, hands still gripping the fabric of his shirt.
your heart was beating so hard you were sure he could hear it. did he like it? did he think you were a bad kisser? to be fair, you didn’t kiss many people. or often. but what if—
“hell,” he mutters, like he didn’t expect that, “you even kiss cute. kinda sweet.”
you pant, “what does that even mean?”
his gaze flicks back to your mouth and the slight furrow of your eyebrows.
the way your fingers still cling lightly to his shirt, the shy warmth clinging to your skin, even that stupid little clip tucked into your hair.
a quiet exhale leaves him through his nose, almost a laugh.
he lets out a soft laugh, leaning down slightly to your height. “i’m annoying?”
you only nod, biting down on the plush of your lip before looking away again, suddenly very interested in anything but him.
except before you could give an actual rebuttal, his lips meet yours deeper this time, no longer testing the waters. still gentle, but an unspoken certainty lingering in the way he kissed you. his mouth warm against yours, moving slow and unhurried, giving you all the time in the world to keep up, hell, even backout if you wanted to, the space between you disappearing.
his hand shifts from your waist up to your jaw, cradling your face and simply holding you in place for the moment. his other arm staying firm at your side, keeping you close without pulling too hard, steadying your wobbly steps against him.
you swallow down a gasp before your eyes slip shut, your nose bumping lightly against his, the angle a little awkward, a little clumsy, yet perfectly you.
it only makes him breathe out something softer against your mouth, amused, as if it’s exactly what he expected from you.
the kiss deepens for a few more seconds — slow, and warm — until it didn’t feel like teasing anymore. just a need held taut beneath careful restraint.
then he pulls back just slightly, just enough for air, his thumb still lingering at your cheek, in no rush to let you go.
“okay . . . was that . . a good goodbye?” you murmur, breathless, still a little dazed as you finally force yourself to step back.
he lets out a low “hm” under his breath, his thumb dragging lightly against your cheek. “yeah. it was good.”
“s’pose i can let you go now.” removing his hands from your sides, drawing a small, inward pout from you.
your hands went back to your purse, fingers already digging through it again—until sukuna stopped you.
“here.”
you pause.
and there they were.
your keys, dangling right in front of your face from his fingers with a soft jingle, cute, colorful keychains swinging in the quiet night air. you gasp before snatching them immediately.
“you bastard! you saw me looking for them!”
he lets out a soft huff of laughter, not even trying to defend himself. “you dropped them while you were busy runnin’ from me,” he hums, shifting his weight back against the brick wall beside him, a faint, sly smirk settling in on that stupidly handsome face of his, “when i asked if you forgot somethin’, you said no.”
you scoff before rolling your eyes, “well! i thought you were talking about saying bye?!”
his gaze flicks over you, steady and thoroughly amused. “two things can be true at once.”
you make a small sound of frustration and snatch the keys tighter in your hand, glaring up at him through your lashes anyway.
“…thanks,” you mutter.
“…go on,” he murmurs, voice low. “before i change my mind and keep you right here.”
and you knew he wasn’t joking. that man was about one breath from devouring you right then and there.
you turn quickly, fumbling with the lock, the soft jingle of your keys echoing in the stillness, his presence still radiating from behind you. his gaze dropped briefly to your hands . . .
“you alright?”
“yes.”
“you’ve missed your keyhole three times now.”
“i know!” you shoot back immediately.
the door unlocked with a soft click, warm light spilling out into the hallway.
“ okay . . . ” you hummed.
“okay,” he repeated, looking down at you expectantly, waiting for you to head inside.
but instead, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.
a low, rough laugh rumbled out of him before his arms circled around you instantly, strong biceps trapping your head against his chest. his scent, a deep, clean mix of cologne, so distinctly him, filling up your senses and making your head feel all dizzy.
despite his rough exterior, sukuna was soft, surprisingly so. maybe it was the steady weight of his chest against your body, or maybe it was the quiet way he held you that made it hard to think. either way.
you liked it.
you pulled away first with a small cough and an awkward straightening of your clothes, cheeks warm enough to burn through metal.
“okay! um— bye, sukuna,” you blurted awkwardly, already backing toward your apartment door.
except your shoulder clipped the doorframe on the way in.
“fuck—”
you fumbled with the handle in a panic before practically stumbling inside. “bye! goodnight!”
and then, you’re gone.
the door shutting a little too hard behind you, a muffled “ow!” coming from behind the door.
outside, sukuna exhales through his nose, shaking his head as the corner of his mouth curled upward.
pro tip: don't talk bad about yourself in front of sukuna | mdni suggestive
to say sukuna doesn't like when you disrespect yourself would be untrue, because he doesn't even let you get that far. you're his, which means when you talk bad about yourself, you're offending him too.
he'll slap your ass as he passes by you getting a bowl of fruit in the kitchen, in nothing but one of his shirts and an old pair of pj shorts, hair a mess. he lets out a "fuck, don't tempt me right now," his eyes scanning you from head to toe with that familiar heat in them.
your brows furrow in confusion and you literally go to the bathroom to look in the mirror to check that your appearance didn't magically ameliorate from the last time you saw yourself. he follows you and you're almost offended when you look in the mirror. is he playing a prank on you?
"what? i literally look-"
his hand comes to grab your throat gently but firm, a brow raised as he stares down at you and then through the mirror. "you look what?" his gaze is daring you to say something negative.
you can feel that he's not joking. you swallow, "um, good?"
he hums satisfied and pulls you closer, bending down to kiss you, the way his tongue smoothly finds its way into your mouth has heat spreading through your body.
he pulls back and looks you over again appreciatively, smushing your cheeks playfully before walking away. "s'what i thought."
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frat!kuna comforting you after you argue with your dad
sukuna could see it just by your demeanor that something was bugging you. what it was? no clue. he waited to see if you got better but, nothing. so he decided to text your nerdy best friend, toru, and ask.
sukuna: what made her upset?
toru: she got into an argument with her dad
ah! so that’s it. he knows how much of an ass your dad can be. so, when dinner time rolled around, he decided to come over to your dorm and order some food for the two of you.
“alrighty, brat, what do you want from here?”
brat? i’m not a brat, you thought to yourself while zoning out. until you were rudely awakened to the snap of fingers in your face.
“hello?”
“i’m not a fucking brat,” you snapped. snapping at him has never been something you’ve done before. guilt quickly sept into your mind.
“the fuck is your deal?”
tears started to form in your eyes as you put your head down and started crying, still upset from earlier. he quickly ran to youe side and wrapped his beefy arms around you.
“hey, what’s wrong,” he asked as he coddled you.
“do you really think i’m a brat?”
he paused in his tracks. he knows you’re not fond of that name he calls you.
“fuck no, it’s just kind of a pet name,” he said that last part quietly under his breath. “talk to me.”
and so you began to ramble on to him about the argument you had with your dad as continued flow down your cheeks. he hated seeing you like this. his poor baby. “he’s just, ugh!”
as big and bad sukuna seemed, he was hopelessly and utterly whipped for you. just thought of seeing you upset infuriates him. and now that he’s hearing all the nasty things your dad said, he’s pissed. but he knows to not add more fire to the flame and should try to calm you down.
“i’m not good with feelings and shit but even i know you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” you turned around to face his chest and nuzzled into his neck, tears dripping onto his warm skin as he began to pick you up and take you to bed.
when he placed you down, he asked, “what can i do to make you feel better? baby you? watch a movie? sex?”
nervously, you reply, “i don’t know.” with that he decided to lay down next you and be all lovey dovey.
“quit cryin, it makes me mad to know that someone could cause you tears,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and started whispering praises in your ear.
“my brat, only i can call you that,” he gave a wet smooch! onto you cheek.
“ooh ryo, look at you acting so sweet,” you teased. he replied with a “shh,” and then said, “only for you,” but you couldn’t hear that.
having ryomen sukuna as your boyfriend is like having your own six foot four two hundred thirty pound body guard and you absolutely love it.
“seatbelt.” he’ll say when you hop into the passenger seat of his truck and immediately go to fix your mascara in the mirror instead of ensuring your own safety.
“is your location on?” he’ll ask as you’re actively using his forearm as a support beam to hurriedly slip on a pair of dangerously high heels so you can meet your friends waiting outside.
“when i call ‘n check up on you, you answer, got it? y’know i’ll come find you if you don’t.” he’ll kiss into the crook of your fragrance oiled neck before you leave.
and whenever you’re in public with him you can literally just turn your brain off, because why would you need to think when your boyfriend can do it for you?
like when you’re strolling outside on a summer day, features illuminated gorgeously by the sun’s golden rays. lips freshly glossed and phone held out in front of your face as you try to get the angle right for your selfies. just as you go to snap the picture you distractedly take a step towards the asphalt to cross the street without looking, only to get photobombed by a large hand reaching out, palming your forehead like a basketball and pulling you back onto the sidewalk.
or how about when you’re tugging him through the mall and on your way to your seventh store, your shopping bags laddered up his left arm and your arm looped around his right, dainty finger tips brushing against the slightly raised lines of his tattoos as he follows your lead and listens to you go on and on about whatever the fuck.
and you’re just strutting beside him without a worry in the world in one of those skimpy little skirts he absolutely fucking despises (but paid for anyway) when your lip gloss accidentally slips from between your manicured hands and clatters onto the ground.
as soon as sukuna hears you go ‘oops!’ he’s already stepping behind you to shield your backside from view with his body because you’re bending right over to pick it up without even thinking about who you might flash, or who’s ass he might have to beat for looking too hard. and as the ever yearning man he hates to admit he is, he can’t help but let his head weigh down a bit to selfishly steal a glance at those pretty pink panties you’re wearing and lick his lips at how deliciously they cling to your cunt.
he’s suddenly grateful for your shopping addiction, as he can now use one of your many bags to hide the bulge tightening within his pants as the two of you continue walking. maybe that skirt isn’t so bad, he thinks.
