taykuna

minors dni

⊱ ۫ ׅ✧ m. list

usually, before bed, sukuna slides his hand down your panties, placing his large hand over your mound and keeping it there. why? whenever you build up the courage to ask, he simply just shoots you a sharp glance, saying "it’s warm. stop asking questions, woman."

imagine his surprise when he mindlessly slides his hand down, only to feel you were completely bald down there this time.

you’ve never seen sukuna so genuinely confused. his usually bored, irritated expression had faded, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"brat, where is it."

you look over at him, shrugging. "where’s what?"

he feels around a little more, double checking, nope — not a single hair. “don’t play dumb with me, woman. the hair. where is it."

you were just as confused as he was. did he really love your bush that much?

“i shaved it?…" you respond, watching a slight frown form on his face, similar to a grumpy cat — honestly, anyone else would look at him and assume his entire family had been killed or something.

in your defense, you just felt like changing it up, assuming he wouldn’t care much at all. if you knew it’d affect him this much, you wouldn’t have plucked even a singular hair away.

"why the hell would you do that," he growls, his initial confusion quickly turning into irritation. “put it back, i don’t find this amusing."

you can’t help but let out a soft giggle, feeling sukuna pull his hand out from beneath your panties, two arms crossing in silent annoyance like a kid who’d just had their candy stolen.

"kuna’, it’ll grow back… i didn’t realise you liked it so much," you smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. his expression remains the same, though he doesn’t push you away, silently accepting your affection.

"don’t let this happen again," he demands.

"awwh! you miss it," you tease, poking his chest playfully. he catches your wrist in his hand, grip demanding, yet not firm enough to hurt.

“shut up."

˚ 　　　 . ✧　　 　　˚ 　　　 .　　 　　✧ ˚ 　 .

Your eyes gently flutter open to view the dimly lit room that you and your husband share. The sun gently shines into the room through the partially cracked screen leading outside. You make a feeble attempt to stir before you realize you're trapped under the weight of several heavy arms. "Tch, every morning." You do your best to turn your head and look back at your husband who's still sound asleep behind you. "Gods give me strength."

You decide to asses how exactly you're trapped before attempting to escape. You find that theres two arms over top of you, one at your hip and the other on your midsection, both with an iron grip. Another arm is underneath your side relatively out of the way. The final arm is below your head providing a sturdy but comfortable pillow. Now that you know where all his arms are you begin trying to break free.

Gently, you lift the first arm off your hip. Surprisingly, it moves with no resistance. You move on to the second arm. Again, you're met with no push back. Just as you're about to drop the arm, you're yanked backwards forcefully as he rolls to lay on his back with you on top. You let out a shriek of surprise before groaning at the realization you've been caught. "Trying to leave already, little wife?"

You lie back in your new position with your back flat against his chest. "No, I was simply repositioning your arms." You lie and he knows it. "Is that so?" He asks against your ear. "How's this for a new position?" He tightens his grasp for just a moment but long enough to squeeze the air out of you. "It's-" You pause to regain your breath. "-fine." "Then you should have no problem going back to sleep."

"I don't." You quickly reply. "Good." He matches you. "Perfect." He hears the sarcasm in your voice but doesn't comment on it. You lie there for a few minutes, long enough for you to think you feel his breathing even out again. Then, you start to slowly slip off of him. Little by little until you're beside him on your stomach. Quietly, you scoot yourself over to the edge of the bed. Soon you make it far enough to stick a leg out from the covers.

With as much carefulness as you can muster at this point you lightly place your foot on the ground. The second you do, you feel the weight of what seems like a boulder come down on your back. "Going somewhere?" His words are teasing against your back as you struggle under him. "Ryo-" You breathe in as deeply as you can. "Please." He lets up at your stuttering.

You feel majority of the weight come off but he leaves enough to keep you stuck in place. "I just want to make myself some tea! I'll come back!" You tell him after finally regaining the ability to speak in proper sentences. "Uraume can do such menial tasks, you shall remain with me." You scoff at his reply. "Do you see Uraume here? No. Even if I had them do it I would have to get out of bed to tell them. At that point I may as well do it myself!"

"Must you have an answer for everything I say?" He asks in an attempt to change the subject. "Yes." You laugh a little. "If I didn't you'd grow bored of me." This makes him laugh. "Growing bored with you would be like breathing without oxygen. Impossible." He lays his head down on your back, careful not to put too much weight on you. The two of you lay there in silence for a bit.

"Ryomen?" You call out gently. He grunts in response. "May I please go make some tea?" He lets out a deep, long breath. "I suppose. Begrudgingly, he rolls off of you. You hop out of bed but not before placing a sweet kiss to your husband's cheek. "Thank you, Ryo. I'll be back before you can begin to miss me." He watches as you leave, knowing if you're gone longer than he deems acceptable he'll drag himself out of bed to find you and bring you back to lie in his arms once more.

A/n: Took me way to long to get this out of the drafts but at least I got it out🫩

Summary: Dating a women’s studies major has turned Sukuna into the frat house’s most feared feminist. Now the frat boys can’t make a sexist comment without getting a lecture, while you sit back and watch.

A/n: just fun lil thing i thought of :)

The frat house was unusually quiet, no music, no party, no sports discussions.

This was because Ryomen Sukuna was standing in the living room with his arms crossed, looking genuinely disappointed.

“Did you just call her a bitch?”

Satoru Gojo, halfway through stealing someone’s energy drink from the fridge, blinked. “What?”

“You called that girl a bitch.”

“She literally stole my hoodie after our hookup,” he shrugged him off.

Sukuna pointed at him. “And? Speak like a man. Have some respect.”

The room went silent.

Satoru looked around. “Did anyone else hear that?”

“No, seriously.” Sukuna continued. “You don’t get to call women bitches because you’re annoyed.”

Satoru stared. “Who are you?”

“My girlfriend says that’s misogynistic.”

“Your girlfriend also made you stop saying ‘females.’”

“And she was right, it’s disrespectful. Some shit incels say.”

The entire frat house collectively recoiled.

Across the room, you sat on the couch, sipping an iced coffee and watching the chaos unfold. A smile on your face, because god were you enjoying this.

This was better than reality TV.

Satoru pointed at you. “YOU DID THIS.”

You raised your coffee in acknowledgment.“Damn right.”

———————————————————————————————

The frat party was loud enough to shake the walls. Music blasted through the speakers.

Drinking games to your left, a fist fight to your right; and you were just observing from the kitchen.

And in the middle of it all, Toji was sprawled across the couch with a beer in hand.

His girlfriend was standing nearby talking to some friends when Toji waved his empty can in the air. “Hey.”

She glanced over. “Yeah?”

“Grab me another beer.”

A few people looked over.

She frowned. “What?”

“You heard me.” Toji pointed toward the kitchen. “Get me another beer.”

Before she could argue, another voice cut through the room.

“No.”

Toji closed his eyes. “…God.”

Across the room, Sukuna was already walking over.

You perked up immediately, ready for your boyfriend to set Toji straight.

Sukuna stopped directly in front of Toji. “Hell no.”

Toji looked exhausted. “No what?”

“No disrespecting your girl in front of me.”

A few people turned their attention to the potential altercation.

Toji rubbed his forehead. “I asked her to get me a beer.”

“You ordered her.”

“It’s not that serious, right baby?” He said, trying to save his ass.

Sukuna crossed his arms. “If you want a beer, use your legs, or ask nicely.”

Toji stared, “You cannot be real.”

His girlfriend was already trying not to laugh.

Sukuna pointed toward the kitchen, “Go get your own drink.”

“Or what?”

The entire room collectively leaned forward.

Sukuna grinned. “Or I’ll disrespect your face by punching it.”

You giggled. Only Sukuna could point out misogyny while trying to solve the issue with violence.

A guy standing nearby immediately whispered, “That’s the most Sukuna version of feminism I’ve ever heard.”

Toji looked around the room. Nobody was helping him. Not even a little, most probably in fear of Sukuna.

Finally, Toji sighed. “Fine.”

Sukuna nodded. “Good choice.”

Toji turned toward his girlfriend. “Sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow, suddenly she had more confidence than before. “Sorry for what?”

Toji was clearly embarrassed now, “Sorry for talking to you like that.”

“Thank you.”

Sukuna gave an approving nod. “There. Growth.”

“Shut it,” he said staring down Sukuna. “You know what? I’m getting my own beer.”

As Toji disappeared into the kitchen, the room broke into applause.

His girlfriend laughed and shook her head.

Then she turned to Sukuna. “Thanks.”

Sukuna shrugged. “Don’t thank me.”

He pointed across the room toward you. “Thank her.”

Everyone looked.

You were sitting comfortably on a stool in the kitchen; chin in hand, eating chips like you’d been watching a sporting event.

You gave a little wave.

“Kuna’s a women’s studies soldier ,” she said proudly. “I teach him everything I know.”

———————————————————————————————

The fraternity and sorority had gathered in one room to brainstorm ideas for a charity fundraiser. People were throwing out suggestions.

Raffles. Bake sales. Auctions.

Then Satoru snapped his fingers. “I got it.”

Immediately, you looked concerned, because he never had good ideas.

“We do a joint event with the sorority.” Satoru grinned. “The girls wear maid outfits and serve drinks.”

The room erupted into approval.

“That’s genius.”

“People would love that.”

“Easy money.”

Across the room, Sukuna slowly lowered the energy drink from his hand.

“Interesting.”

“NO,” Gojo yelled. “Let me have this one good idea,” he groans.

Sukuna stood. “Let me understand… the women wear maid costumes.”

“Yeah.”

“And serve drinks.”

“Yeah.”

“And what are the men doing?”

Toji shrugged. “We could do some strength challenge.”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know. Lifting something heavy.” Several people nodded.

“Classic.” Sukuna stared. Then looked at you, looking for approval to go on a rant.

Sukuna turned back to the room. “The women get assigned a service role. The men get assigned a strength role.”

More silence.

“Based on gender.”

The room collectively sighed.

Sukuna pointed dramatically. “Why.”

Satoru finally spoke. “Because that’s what people want.”

Sukuna gasped.

You smiled proudly at your boyfriend, waiting for him to call out their blatant sexism.

“PEOPLE EXPECT IT?”

“Yeah?”

“So we’re just reinforcing traditional gender roles for profit now?”

The room erupted.

“IT’S A CHARITY EVENT.”

“YOU’RE MAKING IT SOUND EVIL.”

Sukuna ignored them. “Misogyny is evil.” He pointed toward the sorority members.

“Why are they the ones serving drinks?”

One of the sorority girls raised her hand. “Honestly, I don’t want to wear a maid costume.”

“THANK YOU.” Sukuna was fully activated.

You were delighted to see how this was playing out.

“Explain to me,” Sukuna continued, “why the men can’t wear maid costumes and serve drinks.”

The room went dead silent, and you almost spit out your drink.

Toji blinked.

Satoru blinked.

The sorority sisters were stunned. “What?”

“The men.” Sukuna spread his arms.

“No.”

“Why not?”

The room burst into laughter.

“If serving drinks is easy money, then congratulations.” He slapped the table.

“The fraternity is serving drinks.”

The sorority girls immediately started cheering.

“YES.”

“MAKE THEM DO IT.”

Toji looked horrified. “Absolutely not, I’m not wearing a maid outfit.”

Sukuna leaned forward. “Fragile, typical response from men. Toxic masculinity, machismo, societal expectations.” He says pointing a finger at different men around the room.

You had your face in your hands, trying to hide your laughter. You had to show support for your boyfriend, but couldn’t handle him naming every term he could think of.

Sukuna pointed around the room. “If the costumes aren’t degrading, wear them.”

Silence.

The sorority girls were having the time of their lives. One of them pulled out her phone. “I’m ordering maid costumes right now.”

The fraternity erupted in panic.

“STOP HER.”

“WE CAN STILL NEGOTIATE.”

——-

Two weeks later, the fundraiser ended up being the most successful event in frat history.

Mostly because nobody could resist paying money to watch a group of deeply embarrassed frat bros serve spiked lemonade in maid outfits.

Toji looked dead inside.

Satoru refused to make eye contact with anyone.

Meanwhile Sukuna carried a tray through the crowd completely unbothered.

His maid outfit fit surprisingly well, as he served you a drink.

Across the lawn, Satoru was being forced to say “Welcome home, master” for a twenty-dollar donation.

The sorority was making a fortune.

Sukuna took one look at the donation total and smiled. “Look how good we’ve done so far,” he said enthusiastically.

“I’m so proud of you,” you said before leaning in for a kiss.

“By the way, I think you should bring home this costume when you’re done here,” you said; snapping the thigh high sock on Sukuna’s thigh.

“Whatever you want baby,” he winked.

your hands feel weird. empty, you note suddenly.

then you look at your boyfriend walking just 2 steps ahead of you. both of his hands full of shopping bags and grocery packets.

it must be heavy. it is heavy. that's why sukuna is carrying them and not you. you give a sigh of appreciation as your eyes roam over his frame.

tall , dressed in dark shades, muscles pulled taut. quite the head turner. and more than capable of carrying a few bags, you mentally note.

your friends often complained about their partners expecting to split the baggage. half n half and shit that felt so absurd to you that you had obnoxiously bragged about your husband demanding that you 'do not lift a single finger'.

the girls had the audacity to look skeptical.

you pull up the camera app on your phone and click record.

"baby?" you call out, pretending to scroll. the camera records your man as he half turns his head.

"why aren't you holding my hand?" you demand like a spoiled brat. you catch the faint upward tug of his lips as he turns his head to face forward again.

then he releases his pinky from under his grip on the bags and slightly points it. you let out a happy sound and grab onto it. making a point of zooming in your camera on the view.

then you reverse the camera and film your face.

sukuna often tells you to wipe that smug look off your face. but how can you when you bagged such a hot deal?

so you give your brattiest grin and lean your head against his bicep. the camera doesn't capture his face, he is too tall for that.

sukuna doesn't comment, even as he watches the display. what can he say? he quite likes being shown off by his princess.

it was a friday afternoon, and you were tired of sukuna never listening to your words. you curled into yourself, desperate for warmth in your cold and lonely bed, with the silent house. something was wrong.

the door creaked open just a smidge, and tiny footsteps came in, along with soft sniffles and hiccups that came from what sounded like to be yuji.

when you looked down with your eyebrows furrowed, all of your irritation was driven away when a tear-stained yuji stood by the side of your bed. you could almost feel your heart breaking into millions of pieces as he gazed up at you with a pout, with his glossy eyes and with his hands that grabbed the covers.

“oh, yuji,” you cooed, then you picked him up by the armpits and sat him on your lap, “what’s wrong, baby?”

you could hardly hear his voice over his sobs, “do you- hic- not love hic- kuna anymwore?”

you wiped at his tears, “i still love him, yuji, we just need a couple of hours away from each other, you shouldn’t be worried about this stuff.”

“please don’t leave us! i’ll- i’ll miss you, and- hic- kuna looks at photos of you like-like all the time! you’re on his phone and he talks to me about you even though he- hic- told me not to tell you!” he wailed.

he babbled on and on, snot and tears soaked your shirt as he gripped the cloth in his little fists like he was scared you’d leave. it isn’t until you placed a small, reassuring kiss on his forehead that his sobs softened to sniffles.

“i’m not leaving you two, okay?” you whispered, then focused his glossy brown eyes.

he whimpered and nodded, but his head snapped toward the bedroom door when it creaked open. his little eyebrows furrowed as he clung on tighter to you when he saw sukuna in the doorway.

“no!” yuji exclaimed as sukuna began to step closer, then held an arm out to somehow protect you, “you made her sad!”

“that’s why i’m here to apologize, brat. leave so i can do this in private.” he argued, then rolled his eyes as he sat down on the bed next to you.

yuji grumbled and pushed him with all his might, but to no avail. “go away!” he shouted. sukuna only laughed, then gently pushed yuji as he toppled onto you.

but during a moment of silence, yuji still held onto you, then embraced you into a tiny but tight hug, and he still frowned at sukuna, while he tried his best to intimidate him.

“i didn’t mean what i said,” he mumbled, as he ashamedly looked down at the sheets, “i’m an asshole, i know that. but i’m trying to be better for you… and for this little runt here too.” he ruffled yuji’s messy hair, who huffed in protest. sukuna continued, “i’m sorry. i’ll be more considerate of your words next time,” he caressed your soft hand in his tattooed one.

yuji slowly looked back up at you with red around his eyes, “does this mean we can still have movie fridays after school?”he whispered.

“yes,” you smiled, “thank you for apologizing, kuna,” you murmured, “i love you.”

he reciprocated the words, and when you two left a kiss on each other’s lips, yuji let out a little ‘yuck!’ with a soft giggle.

suddenly, like a little boy his age who couldn’t focus on anything for more than five minutes, he ran out of the room and yelled, “i’m picking the movie!”

hope u guys like this! gonna work on another kuna requests… maybe hybrid tiger kuna

pls send in requests

sukuna woke up to being shaken harshly by his heavily pregnant wife, her strength surprising him.

“babe.” you said softly as you continue shaking your 250-pound husband with all your might.

“mnh?” sukuna murmured, still asleep.

“im hungry..” you whine, still shaking his moveless body.

“theres food in the kitchen baby.”

“i dont want any of that…” you whispered. “wake up. you have to go to the gas station.. seven eleven. i want a hot dog from there.” you murmur, punching at his chest to wake him up.

“okay! okay! im up, im up baby. where ‘ya want me to go?” he asked, getting up to put a pair of sweatpants on.

“seven eleven.. i need a hot dog. and mayo. and pickles.” you say to him, sitting up to watch as he starts putting his shoes on.

“is that it?” he asked staring at you in disbelief.

“a minion popsicle too..” you said, pulling the covers over your chest and laying a pillow under your swollen belly.

“okay baby ill be back just don’t fall asleep please” he said, kissing your cheek as he left.

he stood shirtless in front of the teenage cashier, holding a hot dog, a jar of pickles, a packet of mayonnaise, and a minion popsicle.

“dont ask” he murmured, shaking his head as he payed for everything.

sukuna arrived home at exactly 3:19 am, drowsy but alert.

“baby, im home.” he said walking throughout the house to find you.

living room? no.

bathroom? no.

bedroom? yes.

he found you laying in the bedroom completely knocked out as if you’d never woken up and sent him outside at 3 in the morning.

you sat your phone against your desk, the charm dangling in front of the camera, obscuring the view for a brief blurry second before sukuna scoffed, a large hand reaching out to flick it out of frame. “damn thing’s in the way.”

as you settled beside him, sukuna shifted into the camera’s frame too—naturally taking up more space than the camera could properly capture—large, broad shoulders, spiky, mussed salmon-hued hair pushed back from his tatted hand running through it way too many times, displaying all his sharp, sinister-looking features that stood out under the bright light in your dorm room.

a long roman nose that almost looked sculpted by the gods rather than born, edged brows pulled into a permanent annoyed expression, peach-colored lips soft despite the permanent grumpiness etched into them.

deep pools of onyx-colored ink seeped into his tanned skin, veins bulging faintly through the markings.

you glance over at your annoyed, pouting hulk of a boyfriend who, despite his rough exterior, is all soft for you.

you smile. “thanks, kuna baby.”

he shrugs, dismissively letting out a rasp-filled grunt. “tch.”

you poke his cheek in return, and he only sighs, but you feel the way he slowly melts into it, subtle and hesitant, like a grumpy stray cat pretending it doesn’t secretly enjoy pets.

“get on with it,” he demands.

you give him a pointed look.

his eye twitches before he grumbles, voice rougher this time, “get on with it, baby.”

“see? was that so hard?” you say sweetly, playing coy.

he rolls his eyes, head falling back against the chair, tongue clicking inside his mouth.

“don’t push it,” he says gruffly.

you squeal, ignoring his warning, clapping your hands together as you pull out the original-flavored ramune soda, the glass bottle clinking beneath your manicured nails while the clear liquid sloshes inside.

having tried every flavor but this one, you were excited—but more than anything, you were practically buzzing from the tips of your fingers to your toes at the trick you were about to play on sukuna.

he doesn’t really keep up with social media or trends—thinks they’re stupid. he only has an instagram because you begged him to get one so he could see your posts, and it’s literally just a black profile picture with the username mygirlfriendmadememakethisbullshit, and a bio that reads:

“fuck off im married.”

you’re not, but sukuna declares every single day that you’re his bride-to-be, ridiculously possessive about it too.

you’re his.

he’ll do anything to make sure you know that.

thankfully, his complete lack of knowledge when it comes to social media means you can play all the stupid, silly pranks on him, and he never sees them coming. and his reactions never fail to amaze you.

sometimes, you swear you can practically see steam billowing from his ears like some cartoon character. he’s embarrassingly easy to rile up.

your lips curl into a mischievous smirk for only a second before you replace it with a silky, saccharine-glossed pout.

“here,” you hum, holding the bottle out. “you try first.”

sukuna’s large hand practically swallows the bottle, fingers covering most of the label before he tips it back and takes a long swig.

immediately, he makes a face—teeth clenched, jaw tightening as he sucks in a breath, grimacing, his expression twisting in disgust.

“tastes like garbage,” he says bluntly, holding the bottle out for you to take back. “too sweet.”

you crinkle your nose. “what? gimme. i’ll be the judge of that. your tastebuds suck.”

he stares at you, his expression completely deadpan.

“clearly they don’t if i’m with you.”

heat pools low in your stomach from his compliment. you smile, pink dusting your cheeks, teasing him back.

“duh. i’m the exception.”

you snatch the bottle from him, bringing the edge of your shirt up to wipe the rim—erasing a part of him, or at least that’s what sukuna thinks as it takes him a second to fully process what you’ve just done.

his mouth tilts into something almost amused, a dangerous sort of smirk, but his crimson eyes narrow to slits, irritation flickering through them as the telltale vein in his forehead pulses.

you bring the bottle to your lips, forming a small “o” around the opening.

sukuna’s red-inked eyes narrow further, tracking every minuscule movement, locked onto you completely like a predator watching its prey—well, without the bloodshed.

“ooo, yummy,” you hum. “tastes like bubblegum.”

he swears you’re going to be the death of him—he’s had enough with your little tricks.

“what the fuck was that, huh?” he snaps. “treatin’ me like i’m some fuckin’ scum?”

you laugh nervously, trying to play it off, but he’s already moving.

rough hands manhandle you effortlessly, yanking the bottle from your grasp before he takes another massive swallow.

one large hand grips your jaw, thumb prodding at your soft lips, forcing your mouth open, holding it wide as he spits the fizzy soda back into your mouth.

he settles against his chair again like nothing happened, watching intently as you swallow it all down.

his hand lightly slaps your cheek, palm heated against your flesh, no real sting—only the phantom lingering touch that makes you feel a little too desperate for more.

“don’t do that stupid shit again,” he says, voice low, sending a shiver down your spine, your heart stuttering with a sudden, aching need for him.

꒰ྀི১ ໒꒱ིྀ masterlist - kofi - emergency comm info!

note: first time writing for sukuna.. how did i do?? this was inspired by a tiktok trend btw

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."

you were standing outside of your boyfriend’s apartment, waiting patiently, you held onto the strap of your overnight bag with so much emotion.

it’s your first time spending the night at his place. you hear his footsteps get closer. you anxiously take out your phone and get a quick good look at your appearance, i mean, you might lose your virginity tonight?

shit.

you’re completely barefaced. not even a coat of mascara. you look like a complete mess.

before you could dig something out of your bag. sukuna was towering over you. “hey” he says softly, the corners of his mouth twitched at the sight of you.

you don’t speak at first—you don’t even look him in the eye, your eyes glue themselves to the ground.

the shame and embarrassment you felt burned. it felt like your face was on fire. so many thoughts kept crossing your mind.

you were way too drunk and the sigma chi house was spinning.

the music thumped through the walls and your head felt light and fuzzy, but you were smiling anyway, red cup dangling from your fingers as you leaned against the wall for balance. your friends had disappeared ages ago and you didn’t really mind.

that’s when you saw him.

tall. pink hair. tattoos crawling up his arms. he looked really familiar but your drunk brain couldn’t connect the dots. you just knew he was stupidly hot standing there by the stairs with his arms crossed.

you stumbled over with a bright smile.

“hi,” you said, voice soft and sweet. “you have the prettiest eyes. like… scary pretty.”

sukuna looked down at you and his eyebrow raised, but he didn’t move away. the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.

“yeah?” he asked, voice low.

you nodded, stepping closer until you were leaning into his space. he smelled so good. warm and a little sweet, just like someone you used to know.

“mhm. my ex had eyes like yours,” you mumbled, resting your forehead against his arm because the room wouldn’t stop tilting. “he was mean looking but really nice to me. i miss him a lot actually.”

sukuna stayed quiet, one big hand coming up to steady you by the waist so you wouldn’t fall.

you kept talking, words spilling out easily now that someone was listening.

“we broke up because i thought he didn’t care enough but… he used to do the sweetest things. like bringing me coffee before class or letting me play with his hair even when he acted all tough about it.” you sighed softly. “i think i messed up. i still wear his hoodie to sleep sometimes.”

his grip on your waist tightened just a little.

“you’re drunk,” he murmured.

“super drunk,” you agreed with a little laugh, tilting your head up to look at him again. “but i mean it. he was the best. made me feel safe even when he was quiet and scary. you kinda look like him, it’s weird.”

sukuna let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh. he guided you through the crowd with a hand on your lower back, taking you upstairs without saying much. you didn’t even question it. his room felt familiar but everything was blurry.

he sat you on the edge of his bed and grabbed a bottle of water, crouching down in front of you so you could drink it. his hand rested gently on your knee the whole time.

“you’re really nice,” you whispered, eyes half closed. “my ex was nice like this too. when nobody else was looking.”

he didn’t answer right away. just brushed some hair out of your face with careful fingers and helped you lie down. when you reached out and grabbed his hand he paused.

“stay?” you asked softly.

sukuna sighed, but it was the soft kind. he sat on the edge of the bed and let you keep holding his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles while you drifted off.

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."

sukuna always fixing your clothes when you're out.

pulling your top up with a big unapologetic hand when it dips too low, giving a generous view of your breasts.

pulling your skirt down and coming to stand behind you when you bend over carelessly, almost flashing everyone around you.

you can certainly wear whatever you want, he doesn't control you, but there are limits.

"you tryna give everyone a free show or something?"

you smile up at him, carefree, tilting your head all cute. "you'd never let that happen, baby."

"tch." he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to hide his smirk as he slides his arm around your waist, pride filling his chest as he scans the room, sure to scare anyone off that looks at you for too long.

"damn right."