☆

you try to laugh it off, attempting casual, “i don’t know… maybe—”

“stop hiding,” he interrupts, low and firm, but not cruel. there’s authority in his voice, a dominance that doesn’t shout but bends the space around it. “tell me what you want.”

your stomach twists. your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest. the tension in his proximity, in his hands on you, in the way his gaze pins you in place, makes it impossible to breathe normally. you feel exposed, and yet… strangely safe.

he leans closer, just enough that you feel the warmth of his chest brushing against your shoulder. you notice how deliberately slow his movements are, how carefully he reads your reactions, how he doesn’t take control of the moment all at once. he guides you, pulls you in, and leaves space for you to follow.

his voice drops another notch, intimate, almost a whisper: “you don’t have to think about it. i will.”

you can’t help the small shiver that runs through you. you try to avert your eyes, and he tilts your chin up again, catching your gaze and holding it. the way he looks at you, patient but insistent, dominant but calm, makes your knees feel weak.

“i... i think… maybe…” you manage, voice quiet and uncertain.

he leans even closer, just close enough that you feel the heat of him, the subtle brush of his lips near your ear, and it sends an unexpected thrill through you. he doesn’t touch more than needed, doesn’t rush, but the proximity, the tension, it’s almost unbearable.

he tilts his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours. there’s approval there, quiet and commanding, the kind that makes your chest ache with both anticipation and relief. he has been waiting for this moment all along. you feel it in every measured movement, every deliberate pause.

his hands slide from your face to your neck, thumbs tracing the curve of your jaw as if memorizing it. you breathe unevenly, caught between wanting to pull back and wanting to lean in closer. he notices and tightens his grip subtly, just enough to remind you that he’s in control, but still giving you the choice to stay.

“then it’s settled,” he says softly, low, his lips brushing the side of your temple as he speaks. “one more. i’ll handle the rest.”

you lean into him, letting yourself sink against the weight of his certainty. your fingers lace with his, holding on because it feels right, because it feels inevitable. your mind is spinning, heart racing, body tingling from the way he has claimed this moment without forcing it.

he moves his lips to your ear now, hot breath sending a wave of heat down your spine. “don’t even think about saying no,” he murmurs, dominant but not cruel, teasing and deliberate. “you know what you want. i know what you want. stop pretending otherwise.”

your cheeks flush, both from the intimacy and the subtle tension in his tone. your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of him, the way he doesn’t rush, the way every movement, every word, draws you closer.

he slides one hand from your jaw to your shoulder, brushing the edge of your shirt. you catch yourself shivering, and he notices, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “there,” he says softly, voice low, “you’re reacting. you want this too. stop hiding it from me.”

he leans back slightly, just enough to let you breathe, and his eyes never leave yours. the room is quiet except for your breathing, your heart, and the subtle heat between you. you want to speak, to confirm, to deny, but his presence alone is enough to make the words come out.

“i… i think i do,” you admit finally, voice trembling slightly. “i think i want… maybe another.”

he smiles faintly, satisfied, but not smug. it’s the kind of smile that tells you he’s been confident all along, that he knew exactly what would happen. his hands return to your face, fingers gentle, thumbs brushing softly. “good,” he murmurs. “then it’s decided.”

he leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours, letting the intimacy linger. you feel the warmth of him, the dominance in his presence, the certainty in every motion. it’s not aggressive. it’s patient, commanding, and deliberate.

his lips trail a slow, soft kiss along your temple, then to your cheek, then to your jaw, teasing just enough to make your stomach twist and your heart race. “i’ll take care of everything,” he whispers, his voice low and intimate. “you just… stay with me. let me handle it.”

you nod, breathless, letting him take the lead. you feel safe, and desired. certain of the future he’s quietly building for both of you.

his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. guiding you without pushing, letting the tension simmer. you press back instinctively, and he hums softly, approvingly, brushing his lips against your temple again. “that’s it,” he murmurs. “you feel it too, don’t you?”

you can’t deny it. you really want this. you’ve wanted it all along, even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself. and now, with him, with his certainty and his leadership that doesn’t crush but steadies, you finally can.

he holds you close, forehead to forehead, chest against chest, letting you feel the full weight of his presence. every breath you take matches his. every heartbeat echoes his confidence. the tension simmers between you, slow and deliberate, a promise and a prelude all at once.

and as he whispers again, soft, low, almost a growl that makes your knees weak, “then we’ll do it. one more. and i’ll make sure it’s perfect,” you finally believe it.

you believe him.

you trust him.

and you know, without question, that you want it too.

AN: not proud of this but, heres softie sukuna to make up for all the stress reader has been put through..

TAGLIST: @pookiei-bookie @needpeacenquiet @douxdolly @sukunaspretzel @cinnam0ngirlxo @crybabyrizz @dollienanaaa @cindosblog @makiaiaiki @ratedrrrr @3nvieee @asimpinamillion @ilovemyginneapig @juiceeypeach @juliarchiv3s @duckie3801 @succu-baes @b43ek @nnaa-bba @magicalpeenpoo @xunquish-blog @thejujvtsupost @mad-katsuki @cookispark @what-the-jams @omicore @jiyuu-zou @livviaaaaa @frickpickle @kayla0911 @tojisgothiccbaby @laur4a @loverofdrewstarkey @hollydoomedshiplover @reyna-notbeomgyu @k1tys1tee @bakugosbottombitch @allmyn1ghts @luvs-angel @madibookmarks @angelbabymimi @saikixnini @nninit @pearlwuei @soob-missive @hyocee @waltzinthe19s @b-bitter @seanori @aryasasas

you tried sitting beside him on the couch, you tried resting your hand on his shoulder, you even stood directly beside his chair at one point. every time he gave you the same distracted response.

“almost done.” but the stream kept going. another round started. another conversation with chat. another donation popped up that made him laugh quietly under his breath. by the time the timer passed five hours, your patience had worn thin.

fine.

if he wanted to ignore you, you’d just have to fix that. you disappeared into the bedroom.

a few minutes later you stepped back into the living room wearing a thin tank top and the shortest pair of shorts you owned. the fabric clung lightly to your chest without anything underneath, and the shorts rode high on your hips, barely covering the curve of your ass.

toji was still focused on the game, still talking to chat. still oblivious. you walked casually across the room like nothing was different, pausing near the coffee table as if you were looking for something.

“chat, hold on—”

you bent down. just slightly. an innocent reach toward the floor. behind you, the clicking of the mouse stopped. completely.

for a second there was nothing but the quiet hum of the computer. you straightened slowly and glanced over your shoulder. toji was staring, not at the screen. at you.

his brows were pulled together like something had just short-circuited in his brain. his gaze dropped for a moment, dragged slowly down your legs, and then snapped back up again like he was trying very hard to act normal.

the chat started flying across the monitor.

??

why did bro go quiet

toji hello??

BRO WHAT HAPPENED

you blinked at him, expression perfectly innocent.

“did you see where i put my—”

toji cleared his throat.

hard.

he leaned back toward the microphone, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck like he suddenly didn’t know what to do with himself. “alright chat,” he said slowly. the messages started coming even faster.

WHO WALKED IN

THAT WAS HIS GIRL

LOOK AT HIS FACE 💀

MAN IS GONE

toji stared straight at the monitor like it had personally betrayed him.

“yeah,” he muttered. “i’m gonna—uh…”

his jaw tightened. you noticed the way he shifted slightly in his chair. then he sighed.

“i gotta dip, y’all.”

the chat absolutely lost it.

NO WAY

ALREADY?

BRO GOT DISTRACTED

SHES DEFINITELY GETTING IT

RIP STREAM

toji pinched the bridge of his nose, already looking tired of them. “my girl needs help with something,” he said flatly. more messages flooded in. he didn’t even bother reading them this time. with one quick movement he ended the stream. the room went quiet.

no donations, no voices, just the soft whir of the computer fan. slowly, toji turned his chair toward you. his eyes moved over you again, slower this time, lingering in a way that made the air feel heavier. “you done?” he asked.

you tilted your head. “done with what?”

he stood up.

toji was big even when he was sitting, but standing made the difference obvious. broad shoulders, tall frame, the kind of presence that filled the room without him even trying. he walked over until he was right in front of you.

“five hours,” he said.

you crossed your arms. “you said a few minutes.”

his mouth twitched. for a second he just looked at you like he was debating something. then he huffed out a quiet laugh and reached forward, pulling you closer by the waist.

“next time,” he muttered, voice rough with amusement, “just say you want my attention.”

you smiled sweetly.

because clearly—

you definitely had it now.

you don’t react. you’re used to it by now.

sukuna notices anyway.

you feel it in the way his gaze moves, slow and deliberate as it drags across the room, taking everything in without needing to focus on anything for long. parents sitting in small groups, a teacher organizing papers near the front, a couple of people whispering just a little quieter than before. his expression doesn’t change, but there’s a sharpened awareness in his eyes, something quiet and assessing.

he leans slightly closer to you, voice low enough that it stays between you.

“why are they staring.”

you bite back a smile, keeping your tone light.

“they’re not staring.”

he looks at you like you’ve said something objectively incorrect.

“they are,” he says, quieter now, like he’s working it out in real time. his gaze flicks briefly toward someone across the room before returning to you. “is it the hair?”

you glance up at him, and this time you can’t help the small laugh that slips out.

“yeah,” you nod, playing into it easily. “definitely the hair.”

his eyes narrow just slightly, like he knows you’re brushing it off but isn’t sure if it’s worth pushing. after a second, he exhales through his nose, dismissing it, and lets you guide him further into the room.

you find two open seats near the middle. not too close to the front where everything feels too focused, but not far enough back to feel disconnected—and sit down, placing your things neatly in your lap. sukuna lowers himself into the chair beside you, the movement controlled but heavy enough that it draws a brief glance from someone nearby. his legs stretch out instinctively before he pulls them back in slightly, adjusting to the cramped space of a classroom desk that clearly wasn’t designed with him in mind.

he looks out of place.

not in a way that’s loud or disruptive, but in the way something too large, too contained, doesn’t quite fit into a structured environment like this. like he belongs somewhere less restricted, less… ordinary.

you smooth your hands over your lap, glancing toward the front where the teacher continues setting up.

“see?” you murmur quietly. “not so bad.”

he doesn’t answer right away. his gaze drifts lazily across the room again, slower this time, like he’s cataloging things out of habit.

“we’ll see,” he says eventually.

a few minutes pass like that, the room gradually filling, conversations settling into a steady hum. then, beside you, sukuna shifts. the movement is subtle but deliberate, and before you can ask, he’s already pushing himself up from the chair.

“i’ll be back.”

you glance up at him. “bathroom?”

he gives a small, noncommittal hum and heads toward the door without waiting for anything else.

you watch him go for a second, the way people instinctively move just slightly out of his path without realizing it, before turning your attention back to the front. it’s easier to settle without him beside you, the space feeling lighter, more in line with everything around you.

for a moment, it’s normal.

then-

“first time here?”

the voice comes from your side, close enough to pull your attention immediately. you turn slightly to see a man sliding into the now-empty seat beside you, offering a small, easy smile that feels practiced.

“yeah,” you nod politely. “first time.”

“same,” he says, leaning back just enough to look relaxed. “guess they’re trying something new this year.”

you hum in agreement, keeping your tone light but neutral. it’s a normal conversation, harmless on the surface, the kind of small talk that happens in spaces like this.

“your kid in this class too?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“nice,” he nods, glancing toward the front before looking back at you. “mine too. small world.”

you offer a small smile, but your answers stay short, contained. there’s nothing overtly wrong with the interaction, nothing you can point to and say it crosses a line, but there’s a shift in his tone, a slight warmth that feels just a bit too familiar for a stranger. the way he lingers in conversation, the way his body angles a little more toward you, like he’s trying to hold your attention. you shift slightly in your seat, hoping it signals enough.

it doesn’t.

“so, do you-”

“is there a reason you’re sitting here.”

the voice cuts in cleanly.

low, controlled in a way that doesn’t need volume to carry weight.

you don’t have to turn to know sukuna is back.

the man beside you stills immediately, the shift in his posture almost instant as he turns slightly toward the voice. sukuna stands just behind your chair, one hand resting loosely against the back of it, his gaze fixed on him with a quiet intensity that presses without raising.

“oh- i was just-” the man starts, a little too quick now, a little less confident.

sukuna tilts his head slightly, like he’s considering the answer before it’s even finished.

“just what.”

it’s calm. almost neutral. but there’s something under it, something that doesn’t need to rise to be felt.

the man lets out a small, awkward laugh, shifting in his seat.

“just talking. didn’t mean anything by it.”

“clearly.”

the word lands flat, unimpressed. sukuna’s gaze doesn’t waver, doesn’t soften, just holds steady long enough for the silence to stretch in a way that feels heavier than it should in a room like this.

you can feel it settle.

the man definitely does.

“i-uh, i think i see someone i know,” he says suddenly, already pushing himself up from the chair. “nice talking to you.”

he doesn’t wait for a response. just moves quickly, slipping into the crowd of other parents with a little too much urgency.

the space beside you feels noticeably quieter.

sukuna watches him go for a moment longer before pulling his hand back and lowering himself into the seat beside you like nothing happened. his posture relaxes again, one arm resting loosely against the back of your chair now, claiming the space without drawing attention to it.

he glances at you, expression unchanged.

“why’d he run off like that?” he says, tone dry. “thought i was being nice.”

you stare at him for a second, then let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“it’s probably the pink hair.”

there’s a brief pause.

then, just barely, the corner of his mouth lifts.

not quite a smile.

but close enough.

more papa!kuna here

©2026 whasabi all rights reserved.

series taglist: open