lounging on your stomach wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a cheeky pair of underwear, completely absorbed in a book—so much so that you don’t hear your f/o enter the room. they admire the view for a moment, but are overcome with such cuteness aggression that their body moves on its own: they lunge at you and fucking bite the fat of your ass, their body pinning yours down even as you shriek and attempt to scramble away. for them, any consequences pale in comparison to your adorable reaction <3
“we live in an uncaring universe” yeah dude and I live in an uncaring house. and I shit in an uncaring toilet. but do you touch an uncaring lover? do you comfort an uncaring child? do you guide to sleep each night a cold and uncaring self?
Dadbod!sukuna..... Dadbod!sukuna whos warm and huggable and adores hugging you casually whenever he can... Everything about him is thicker and bigger... Hands spanning the small of your back that it makes you cringe whenever you think about the similarities with those secretary y/n and alpha CEO stories.... Dadbod!Sukuna who's biceps feel like heaven is right where you are when its locked around your neck HAAAAASDHFHHCHDHHSHSHS
❥ Sukuna refuses to let you out of bed .ᐟ sfw . gn reader
“SUKUNA?”
“Speak.”
“Can you move?”
“Stop speaking,” Sukuna huffed, arms wrapping tighter against your sides. “and no.”
A groan escapes your throat, wriggling your body on the soft sheets under you– to no avail.
Whatever decisions you made to get here, you had incredibly regretted them the moment you woke up with seemingly the weight of the sun resting on your chest. And unfortunately no, it was not an adorable kitten, but a fully grown man laying on you. One who refused to move despite the threat of.. Anything.
“ ‘kuna, I gotta pee,” you sighed. “You gotta move.” Your simple declaration was met with unhappy mumbling against the fabric of your shirt, one protest to another. Yes, it was cute. But the cuteness did very little to lessen the call of nature.
You fruitlessly try to shove the giant off of you, trying to pry wads of tattooed muscle with little fingers. It didn’t help that you were sore, covered in bites and hickeys of varying colors– you could very much give a rainbow a run for its money right now.
Eventually, after a little more poking and prodding, Sukuna finally tilts his head up to meet your eyes.
“Give it a rest and go to sleep.” He complained, a loud grumble at the back of his throat before he not-so-gently shoved his face back into your chest.
You click your tongue. “Sukuna.” you try again, voice louder this time.
A low, annoyed rumble vibrates against your chest. “What.”
“I seriously have to go.”
“Then hold it until you fall asleep.”
You stare down at the crown of his head, incredulous. “I can’t hold it when you’re literally pressing on my stomach.” you protested, voice still scratchy. “You’re heavy as hell, mister king of curses.”
His body is a boulder on top of yours, a warm, grumpy, and pink-haired boulder. He doesn’t answer you this time, only giving you a chuff against your– his, shirt.
The lack of a response only seems to grow your frustration, and you kick your legs from under him in protest. He must notice, because one clawed hand slides over your side and gives your waist a firm squeeze accompanied with a low hum, like he’s settling you down the way someone might hush a restless animal.
You hate how it works.
You also hate how you immediately sink into the sheets in utter defeat.
“Fine,” your hands lift his head from your chest, red eyes glaring half-heartedly at you. “Lets make a deal.”
He rolls his eyes at that, and you simply pinch his cheeks to get him to listen. “What.” he scowls.
“You don’t have to let go of me,” you say, tracing his cheek with a thumb. “You can just… carry me to the bathroom.”
Sukuna drops his head right back onto your chest.
“I’m comfortable here.”
“Uuuuuughhhhh Sukuna!” You kick your legs again, your fists thumping against the bed as you throw a restrained temper tantrum.
“Sukuna!”
“Stop flailing.”
“I have to go!”
A long, irritated sigh escapes him, as if he was a victim to your cruel, unjust demands. But before you know it, the weight on top of you recedes as a hand is cupped against your butt and your back, pulling you out of bed and into his standing embrace.
Theres a rancid frown on his face– and if you could see it, there would no doubt be a matching one on his stomach.
You giggle as he curses under his breath, stomping his way over to the bathroom. A hand cups itself around his cheek, and you thank him with a gentle kiss to the side of his lips. It atleast stops the curses spilling from his mouth. “Thankyou, kuna.”
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