ryomen sukuna secretly loves taking care of his sweet wife! 𑣲 .✦ ݁˖ ۶ৎ modern-day sukuna x reader, fluff, he’s whipped (but tries not to show it), may be very ooc sorry😓 | wc 1.3k
you’re stood in the kitchen in sukuna’s hoodie, his worn black one that you stole borrowed as you finish off plating up dinner. you’re talking animatedly about your day as sukuna’s arms rest around your body, his chin resting on your shoulder and strands of spiky pink hair rubbing against your cheek as you speak.
“and in the second season they totally ruined the original plot — can you even believe that?”
he nods imperceptibly in silent confirmation, deep red eyes fixed on your soft hands, on each movement you make as you turn off the stove and pick up one of the plates. despite that, he stays fixed where he is, hands still clasped over the oversized hoodie you’re wearing, the fabric bunched up under his fingers.
you playfully nudged his cheek with your hand.
“ryo, i need to take this to the table.”
“mhmm.”
slowly, reluctantly, sukuna lets go, his hands leaving their spot on your stomach before he makes his way to the kitchen table. you slip into the seat across from him, placing the plates down in front of you and continuing your ramble.
“but anyway, since we’re starting with season one it’ll probably be fine! it’s my favourite series but also i never ended up watching the latest season so—”
you’re cut off by a piece of food held up to your mouth. you glance up to see red eyes boring into yours, features smooth, sukuna’s expression almost bordering stern if you really squint.
you pull your face back just slightly, meeting his almost bored-looking gaze, your lips parted and brows raised.
“…um…ryomen…?”
“eat. it’s getting cold.”
“oh…thank you! but..i can eat by myself too?”
he rolls his eyes, nudging the potato against your lip more insistently before you finally part your lips to accept it.
“..thanks, ryo.”
he mutters something under his breath about how you “can’t remember to take care of yourself on your own” before then gruffly prompting you to continue what you had been saying, occasionally reminding you to eat by putting a forkful of food to your mouth once more.
-
it’s also become a common habit for him to let you pick the movie you both watch each evening. you’re curled up on the sofa as usual, head propped against his shoulder, feet tucked under the blanket as you occasionally lean your head further into the fabric of his hoodie with a teasing grin, as though trying to test how much more you can intrude into his personal space (or by this point his lack thereof) before he finally snaps.
he lets out a tiny grunt, a sound you’d almost mistake for annoyance if it weren’t for the fact that he then leans imperceptibly towards you, lowering his shoulder a little to make it easier for you to rest your head on it without straining your neck.
you smile to yourself at that, sneaking a glance up at your husband’s face, observing the way his jaw is set tight and his eyes are fixed firmly forward in an attempt to avoid your teasing grin. he simply stays staring at the tv ahead, focus fixed on nothing in particular as he waits for you to avert your intent gaze.
after a few moments, he finally gives in to your constant staring, turning to face you before speaking, voice rough with fake-irritation: despite his gruff tone, his words are undeniably laced with the slightest undertone of fondness — almost imperceptible, but there nonetheless.
“are you gonna choose the movie already or not?” he mutters under his breath, voice harsh. despite that, its slight coarseness is undeniably softened a fraction when aimed towards you, making your heart twist a little in fondness.
“yep!” you flick through your options quickly before settling on your favourite cheesy 2000s movie as always.
he lets out a low scoff, unsurprised by the repetitiveness by now but amused regardless, lip curling into a small smirk as he studies the way you’re looking up at him, a bright smile on your face.
“….again? don’t you ever get sick of the same movie all the time?”
when you shake your head insistently, he simply inspects your features — eyes bright and eager, sweetly waiting for him to react — and then sighs, rolling his eyes before propping his arm around your shoulder, quietly accepting defeat. by now, he could probably quote each line word-for-word from rewatching this same movie every single week, but he sighs and fixes his attention on the opening scene nonetheless.
-
and on days when you’re unwell, he’s practically stuck to your side, though he absolutely denies it.
he spends the day basically hovering over you, trying to frame his obvious simmering concern as simple frustration towards your self-neglect.
“drink.” he taps the teacup before bringing it to your lips, eyes narrowing as you cough weakly once more.
“…tastes weird. and it’s too hot.” you stick out your tongue, wincing at the burning sensation. clearly, your husband didn’t think to let the tea cool down before serving you it, too busy and concerned — though he’d absolutely deny that fact if you asked him about it — to wait even a second for it to cool down.
he groans at your words, running a hand through his hair in frustration, spiky strands left messy and unkempt. his shoulders are slumped and his brows are furrowed just slightly, the usual sharp edges of his face blurred into something just a little bit softer. the sight of your usually composed husband — made up of his usual sharp features and his unforgiving scowl — now softened so drastically leaves you stifling a weak half-laugh.
he blows the tea quickly, actions rough and hasty.
“so picky. here, now drink.” once more the teacup meets your lips, him eyeing you wearily as you finally take a small sip.
he also decides not to mention the fact that he specifically looked up specific herbs to help soothe you.
-
20 minutes later, and you’ve practically glued yourself to him. you’re clinging to his arm, leaning into his warmth entirely.
“ryooo,” you whine, the side of your face smushed against his body and your eyes pressed shut. “i’m so cold!”
“…two seconds ago you said you were hot.”
he sits up, trying to escape your tight grasp on his arm to go retrieve the sweater and blanket he only just helped you take off, but instead you shake your head, your grip tightening impossibly more on his arm.
“no wait…don’t go.”
“so what do you want me to do?”
“…um…” you unweave your arms from his, pulling back and blinking with hazy eyes to try to make out his face through the blur of thick exhaustion. with much effort, you pry open his crossed arms, outstretching them for him before allowing yourself to slip into his grasp.
he pauses, momentarily stunned before letting a tiny, barely-visible smirk form on his face, his head lowering to press a quick kiss to the top of your hair whilst your face is pressed against his chest. it’s quick, barely there, as though he’s half-hoping it won’t be noticeable, hidden by the hazy state you’re in from your sickness and the dim lighting of the room around him. now, his actions are quieter, rawer in a way you don’t normally see from sukuna. his hand remains firmly fixed on the back of your head, keeping your face buried against his chest as though to prevent you from pulling back and seeing him in such a sappy state. what he doesn’t realise is that you’re already smiling into the fabric of his hoodie at his failed attempt at hiding his affection.
he stays like that for a few moments, as though contemplating what to say or do. his free hand, the one that isn’t currently burying your face into his hoodie, has absentmindedly stilled on your back, and he studies the way you’re curled up in his arms for a second before murmuring fondly.
“…brat. always getting what you want.”
when you finally weave your way out of his grasp just slightly and glance up at his face once more, you find that his gaze is averted once more, lips pressed tight and brows furrowed into a stoic, unimpressed expression.
you decide not to push for an answer, but you smile to yourself imperceptibly as you feel his grasp on you tighten just a fraction more.
author’s notes: thank you to the anon who requested a sukuna fic here, this is for you!! i chose to write about modern-day sukuna for the req i’m not sure if that’s what you wanted though!! btw i hope this isn’t too ooc and i’m sorry if it is!! taglist (thank you!!!): @nonchalantfiend @mayegasm @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @dreamydaredevil @mariisagb @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @yujisdreamgirl @hangenism @nonamedreams @auryyymarix + join!
divider creds @dividers-are-us and @cursed-carmine!
