calling sukuna ‘ryo’ just to irritate him, thinking he hates it because it’s cute when in reality he hates it because it evokes those unfamiliar, uncontrollable little bubbles of warmth to seethe in his chest. he can’t stop them, can’t pop them, can’t smother them or snuff them out no matter how hard he tries, and so he despises them.
it’s too intimate, and it sounds too pretty falling from your lips, almost always punctuated with a precious lil giggle that makes those stupid little bubbles multiply like maggots. it’s infuriatingly endearing, the way you’ll often drag out the ‘o’ as if the nickname has melted in your mouth, all gooey and sweet and infused with adoration.
he swears he can’t fucking stand it, can’t fucking stand you, spits and snarls at you to stop fucking calling him that, how many times does he have to tell you? but none of it seems to deter you in the slightest.
he swears it’s one of the few times he’s thankful you’re so goddamn stubborn.