“fuck is this about?” he asked as his gaze stayed on the screen, the camera already recording. you giggled, a sound he’d once admitted was his favorite with all its sweetness, and he sighed deeply, already accepting defeat. because who the hell did he think he was, before his sweet girl he’d certainly burn the whole world for?
“you’ll see.” you mumbled, a playful grin stretching across your face. the camera angle was already perfect, catching both his figure and every grumpy expression, but you kept checking it just to be sure.
you had stumbled across the trend while scrolling, knowing your boyfriend probably hadn’t since he avoided social media like the plague, claiming that place was full of dimwits. from the moment you’ve seen the trend, you’ve always wanted to try it. and now, quite late to the trend, he stood there with his hands shoved into his pockets, an amused look resting on his features, about to partake in a trend he wasn’t even aware of.
after checking the camera one more time, you made your way over, still giggling with a disturbingly joyous tone.
“you sound fucking evil.” he groaned at the sight of your grin since he was already familiar with the scene, aware that you were planning something.
you stopped in front of him, your eyes were sparkling with joy and you were barely containing your laughter. he, visibly defeated, also smiled warmly, a sweet gesture he only ever showed to you. the stretch on his lips could’ve looked unfamiliar to anyone else, but to you it was known and comforting. a gesture so unlike him yet so much of him. so much of a part of him only you knew.
you gently took his arms, lifting them above his head. “the hell?” he asked, but you simply shrugged, making sure he keeps them there. for a moment, you also enjoyed the vision, his tight tee clinging onto his huge biceps and stretching the poor fabric.
then you tangled your fingers into his short, pinkish hair, and rose onto your tiptoes to meet his lips. the moment your lips caught his, he let out a low groan, straight from his chest.
his hands dropped almost instantly. they smoothly found your hips, pulling you against him, his warmth seeping through his hands to your body.
you’d guessed he would probably lower his arms as he openly disliked listening to others, but then again he had built an habit of obeying you over the years you were together —and still, even if he did lower them, you hadn’t expected it to be this quick.
“kuna you are so weak-“ you barely breathed the words with a pleased laugh out before he cut you off, crashing his lips onto yours again with aggressive yet careful moves.
“babe, let me breathe— okay the trend’s over-“ you tried to speak, laughing against his moist lips, as his hands wandered all over your body.
“trend?” he muttered, merely pulling back as his lips still hovered over yours, his brows furrowing, and you laughed.
“mhmm, to see if you’d melt into the kiss. you are sooo weak baby.” he glanced at the camera, and rolled his eyes as he finally understood the situation. even so he kept his hands on yours again hips, his grip tightening just slightly.
“yeah,” he said, a wicked grin tugging at his lips, “so fucking weak.” he said, before leaning in to kiss you again, muffling your laughter with a warm look in his eyes, and an amused glint beneath his gaze.
“come on babe it’s gonna look so cool!” you pleaded, giving him your best puppy eyes in another attempt to convince him.
you’d been scrolling through pinterest, following your nightly routine, when you came across a really cute couple pic where the guy had lipstick marks all over his bicep, maybe an overly used idea but you still found it pretty cute. and well, safe to say the idea had been stuck in your head for a week before you finally decided to play dirty and convince him to recreate the exact same picture for your perfected instagram feed.
and in your book, playing dirty meant mean puppy eyes and pouty lips with glossy tears sitting tightly on the edge of your lashes, threatening to spill over them.
a sight you knew he was hopelessly weak for.
you grinned to yourself. he was as grumpy as ever, letting out a long groan before throwing an arm over his eyes in a poor attempt to ignore you. huge mistake.
you were sitting on top of him while he lay sprawled across couch with his legs hanging over the armrest. fond as he was of summer, he wasn’t exactly immune to the dry heat that came with it and now he was dealing with a persistent headache for days, causing him to lay in the same spot for hours until the sun went down. currently, he was in his fourth hour of the day.
“babyy,” you whined with the exact pout you knew he could never resist.
he groaned again, one hand instinctively settling around your waist to steady you. “y’know you’re a fucking menace.”
you grinned. “does that mean yes?”
a tight silence stretched across his features. he sighed as his voice crawled up to a tone so defeated.
“do whatever you want.”
you let out an excited squeal, a scream of victory, before immediately reaching for the red lipstick.
ever since you’d started dating, you’d realized no matter how stubborn or intimidating he could be, never before had it seem as he had the determination to say a simple ‘no’ to you. at first he’d been genuinely confused by it, convinced there had to be some scientific explanation for why he was physically incapable of rejecting you. well, the explanation he came up with was that he was just a guy so in love. a guy weak and devoted in love.
he seemed to accept this half scientific explanation he had for himself wholeheartedly. he was a weak man.
and well, you never opposed to his logic.
you actually loved this side of him, where he was all sharp edges to everyone else with his permanent scowl sitting roughly on his face, for you he was simply a man in love who couldn’t even say a simple no because he adored you far too much.
you smiled as you finished applying the lipstick, settling yourself more comfortably on his stomach for a better angle.
leaning down, you pressed the first kiss against his bicep. perfect. you couldn’t help giggling when you noticed him subtly flexing, despite acting like he was being held hostage.
your lips lingered just long enough to leave a perfect imprint against his skin. and you felt his shuddering breath near your ears, caressing your neck. his hand tightened against your waist. he, again, exhaled softly. the soft breath brushed the side of your face and he caressed your skin with his rough hands.
“thought you were against to this,” you teased with a knowing grin. “it seems like you’re enjoying yourself.”
he gave your waist a light smack. “focus on your job.” you laughed, swiping on the lipstick over your lips once more.
by the time you were finished, his entire bicep was covered in neatly arranged and gorgeous looking kiss marks.
“i told you this would look good.” you said proudly. “kuna let me grab my phone real quick! i need to post this! where do you think the lightning would—“ your words turned into distracted humming as you wandered off toward the bedroom.
when you came back, your steps stopped in the doorway. you rolled your eyes. “this man…”
you gotta be kidding me.
you caught him in front of the mirror, his back slightly turned, flexing his biceps and his eyes trailing the kiss marks with a pleasant glint, admiring the view in the mirror.
“oh my god, kuna you narcissistic animal,”
he ignored you completely.
you winced seeing his smirk. he changed his pose, flexed his arm again and nodded with a certain approval.
your boyfriend!sukuna is sooo clingy in the mornings
the sunlight grazed your skin with a soft touch.
the familiar weight on your waist tightened when you stretched slightly to cover your face, your eyes still adjusting to the bright summer sun.
a heavy grunt reached your ears along with a warm breath tracing down your neck.
“morning babe.” you whispered when he brought you closer to his warm body with his arms embracing your body, and buried his face on your hair.
you giggled, mind still foggy from a good night sleep, and reached for your phone to check the time. he protested with a deep sound coming from his chest and held your hand, preventing you from pulling away from his hold, the tiredness was evident in his sleepy state.
“baby we probably need to get up,” you murmured with a slight smile, but he simply grunted again and pressed a warm kiss on the back of your neck. his legs found yours and got entangled with them, and you breathed out a laugh because the sukuna you knew, your boyfriend, was never this clingy with you while awake.
“you want to sleep more?” you asked and he nodded against your skin when the soft breeze crawled its way through the open windows and made you wince, causing you to lean into his touch. he let out an amused laugh, his voice heavy with sleep.
“five more minutes.”
he pressed another kiss upon your shoulder, his mouth stretched with a gentle smile, and you gave up, closed your eyes back and nodded.
he caressed your sides with his big hands, his palms were hot against your skin and you melted into his touch. sukuna didn’t seem to mind the cold spreading around the room, he simply held you closer to himself, tangling his body with yours under the cool sheets.
he mumbled some unclear words under his breath, lips still sitting on your shoulder, pressing light kisses in his half asleep state.
“five more minutes it is.” you said, clearly enjoying this touchy side of his, and went back to sleep in his secure arms.
neighbor!nanami fixing your car and earning himself a cute date!
“can you hand me the screwdriver?” your neighbor, nanami kento, asked. he wiped his sweat dappled forehead using his shirt that he’d tossed aside, standing across from you shirtless as sweat dripped down his chest.
you almost couldn’t hear what he’d said, way too busy staring at him because what the hell?
that morning, before you’d driven off to the cafe, with all the easiness of a deserved off day for you’d worked nonstop all through the week, you were happy and content and peaceful.
until your gaze caught up on the steam creeping across the cool floor beneath the hood. and let out a horrified scream loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood up.
which, was also the reason your neighbor, nanami kento ended up in your garage, shirtless and sweating.
he talked about some hose clamp and how it loosened, but honestly, you were way too focused staring at his biceps to comprehend what he’d just said.
as he tightened the clamp, he uttered a silent “fuck,” his knuckles splashed with coolant and the warm breeze upon his bare chest made him slightly shiver. ‘this,’ you thought, ‘is the hottest thing i’ve ever seen.’
“what can i help with?” you asked him, purely out of courtesy. kento breathed heavily as he leaned into the car, his arms tightening along. at the beginning you’d wondered if it was that necessary for him to take his shirt off, now thinking again, it certainly was needed. it was a necessity. your eyes lingered on his arms.
“nothing really— it’s almost over anyway.” he muttered under his breath, his muscles still flexing along his every move. “that must’ve scared you.” he added.
“yeah, honestly, once i saw that steam i almost thought the car was gonna blow up.”
he laughed with a strained voice, and you thought how the dry summer air must’ve been making it unbearable, let alone the heated breeze fluttering through the garage here and there.
“thank you, really, you didn’t have to do this.” you kind of felt guilty about how he was wasting his whole weekend morning on fixing your car, but then again, it was him who’d rushed out of his house once he’d heard you scream. with his mug full of coffee on his hand. and his surprisingly cute slippers.
well, you’ve always known that he had a rather unique approach on fashion.
“don’t mention it. i had nothing better to do anyway.” he smiled up at you, his cheeks reddened with a slight flush. his hair was messy in a way that made your heart throb.
“hmm.” you tilted your head to watch him as the leak stopped dripping and he slowly rose up, the warm breeze rippled through the branches across the garage and summer sun stretched across his flushed skin with a soft glow.
he was finished. probably.
“really, thank you so much nanami-“ you tried but he cut you off.
“kento. please.” the words tumbled out as he ruffled his hair with a nervous urgency. although you’d been familiar with each other through years of silent good mornings and shy attempts at conversation, you’d never crossed that invisible distance before. you smiled warmly upon his words.
‘fuck, just go for it,’ you cheered for yourself. there was no way you were letting that shirtless man leave.
“thank you so much kento. genuinely-“ you bit your lip, “actually, i was just about to get my morning coffee. there’s a really nice place i know nearby. how about,” you fidgeted with your hands. “a thank you coffee? my treat.”
you breathed out the last words with such haste that even you couldn’t comprehend what you’d said for a few seconds.
“well, that’s a bit generous for just fixing your car, isn’t it?” he laughed gently.
“a coffee?”
“you.” oh.
with heat creeping into your skin, you giggled, avoiding his gaze. “no, i think i’d say it’s exactly what you’ve earned.”
he, again, breathed out a laugh as he shook his head. wearing his shirt back, with a muffled voice he said, “i don’t think i could ever say no to that.”
daydreams of you — ryomen sukuna and his first ever crush!
‘even you could fall in love’, was what his friends have told him before. a sentence he merely laughed off with a grunt. he didn’t do love, love was never to be his thing. and truly, despite what they’ve said, even his friends didn’t believe a guy like him, with a cold heart like that, could ever became such a softie to fall in love.
and now he was definitely living through his karma.
it was meant to be a normal year in university, with him and his grumpy self. until he saw you. a cutie, with pretty outfits and lovely nails and a soft, warm smile.
a smile so sweet that it could even crawl its way into his heart.
and it did.
he merely observed at first, thinking it was expected to be interested in a pretty girl, nothing out of ordinary, truly. just a realization about his caffeine intake and how he needed to stop drinking any energy drinks considering his pulse rate. definitely from caffeine, of course. what else would it be?
every morning, at the cafe in campus, his gaze never left you. your favorite order was already memorized by him. he could guess your favorite color so easily. his eager eyes traced your figure to drink in any information he could snatch at, your schedule, your favorite purse, the deserts you liked, the way you did your eyeliner. any piece of you, he yearned and sought for. he thought it was interest. a desire. anything but affection.
but then, your first interaction with him came into picture. your hair brushed into his chest, you murmured a shy ‘sorry’ upon bumping into him. he tried to scoff, as he always did. but your sweet perfume clouded his mind, your voice ringed in his ears and everything around him thickened with something he couldn’t name, something bewitching. so, instead of his classical grumpy words, he presented you a silent ‘it’s okay.’ so bland yet so gentle, that you had to blink up to him out of surprise. the summer breeze brushed a shiny strand from your hair, and his hands twitched to stop himself from touching it.
everything started to go downhill after that exact moment.
your lovely smile was etched upon his memories, and he played it every night. he could still smell you, the sweet tone in your perfume and how your voice echoed against his chest, your shy sorry with your cute face. how your skirt twirled when you walked softly, while he still stood dumb behind you.
he was doomed.
he tried to direct his confusion towards everyone around him as usual. it seemed to be working at the very beginning, until he saw you again. the same captivating smile. the same lovely outfits. and hell, he was back at square one. instantly.
and of course, as every asshole would, he confused it with physical attraction. entertained many ideas. he was caught up in a dumb idea, and he genuinely thought the weird things he’d been feeling lately would go away if his interactions with you grew. while he was just a fool in love.
so he tried talking to you. casual and nonchalant and secure. the familiar smirk splayed out across his dumb face, with pink ears and a reddish blush upon his cheeks. he came up to you, with a awfully awkward walk, and said “hey.”
“i’m sukaro ryamun.” fucking dumbass. he wanted to destroy his whole existence and just disappear.
the angel you are, you just giggled upon his stupid words, thinking he was simply joking. you thought he was cute and funny. and, for the fist time in his life, he was thrilled with the title.
he began to accept the defeat. he was weak to you and your cute face. he was a defeated man. destroyed, even.
when you first gifted him with a sweet and shy “good morning.” he thought he was about to crumble and bawl his eyes out. he stuttered something, almost sounding like a pained gorilla, and when you left with the same angelic giggle, he just crouched down with a loud ‘fuck’. took his head between his palms, and stared at the ground as if it’d offended him personally. he, truly, was looking rather pathetic with his huge body fallen apart like that.
his friends started to notice the changes he went through as well. first, they caught up on the way his eyes sought you at every chance. but, well, it was normal. you were a cute girl and it was quite normal that you got his attention on you.
but then the small talks came in the picture. where he stuttered like an idiot, where he acted as if he was love struck— which he was. where he lowered his strong voice down so you wouldn’t be intimidated by him. he lessened his overwhelming existence so it wouldn’t bore you. they thought he was corrupted by something evil. though he was the same old sukuna to them, grand and huge and grumpy and intense.
hell, even he couldn’t comprehend what was happening to him.
you started to talk to him more, sometimes talking about weather, sometimes classes and everything casual but warm. he briefly entertained your wishes. every content you seemed to be interested in was pursued by him eagerly. he nodded and grunted silently but listened to your words as if they were something sacred.
his gaze traced your dewy lips, the way your gloss sat on the soft skin. after you told him about some series you were interested in lately, he finished the entire series in just three days so that he could talk to you more. not that he could ever start a conversation with you, but you were such a blessing made solely for him that you always kept the talk going somehow. and he stood there, towering you with his giant figure with the faint blush glinting on his face, listening to you religiously.
you didn’t realize the reason he always ran into you at the campus cafe, every morning. you simply assumed his classes started at the same time as yours, while he was skipping all of them just to meet you for only fifteen minutes. he was merely a man in love, he loved the way morning sun reflected on your pretty eyes, especially when those eyes he loved so much stared at him with a huge, shimmering smile. it stirred something in him every time you looked up into his eyes, brushing your shy nature aside to meet his gaze.
he didn’t take you for a stupid because you were cute and feminine. he knew how smart you were, and he also adored that. like he adored everything you had within your existence. he, for the first time in his whole life, learnt how to respect someone while loving them so endearingly.
yes, he also came to accept that he respected you. which, was a huge step for an asshole like him who usually didn’t respect anyone but his ‘glorious’ self.
one morning, his huge hands clumsily untangled the strands of your hair when your lovely hairpin got stuck. he couldn’t sleep for days with his mind dwelling on the moment. the way your body was so close to his inflamed something in him.
you thought he was a friend. he thought you were the best thing to ever happen to him.
and when he saw you with a random boy from your class, clearly interested in you, his mind started ringing the alarms. his hands twitched and he felt as if he could vomit at any moment. his mind was heavily occupied with many violent thoughts about him, a boy he didn’t even know.
that night, he cursed himself and picked up his phone to text the group chat, giving them something to talk about for years. the official start of grumpy sukuna’s first ever crush.
husband!nanami kento is the sweetest husband ever °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
your husband loved you devotedly.
you were fully aware of it. he made sure you knew it. it was visible through his gestures, through his eyes and through his words. he, despite you being together for so long, loved and desired you with all of his heart even after all those years. he was eager for any part of you.
he was known as a composed man. well spoken. calm in his sternness. capable of existing and as perfect as a freshly crafted structure.
of course, you agreed. you nodded upon every title that had been thrown at him. although there was just one single title that was given to him by only you:
cute.
something no one else would ever dare to call him. something you loved calling him.
nanami kento was a cute man. cute enough to blush every time you called him that while shaking his head with an amused expression. the same calm smile sitting on his face faintly softer and eyes gazing you fondly.
and he had undeniable habits of clinginess.
he was also devoted in his affection. his moves were devoid of uncertainty and colored with boldness. he loved displaying proudly how much he cherished his wife. embracing you with his warm body, kissing your temple before starting his sentences, caressing your sides and hips with a knowing smile, so calm, so gentlemanly and so sinister.
you thought he was being too much while he considered getting your name tattooed on his skin with elegant letters, his love etched on him for everyone to see. for him to feel.
he had many accomplishments. a grand name was what he carried. yet he thought you were the most admirable thing he had within his existence. the one with the most importance. what he was most proud of. it wasn’t just a ring he wore, it was a reminder of his success in life, it was a silent vow to be better.
you were a necessity for him. he made that shown. you thought he was built for romance, for love. he simply thought he was built for you. made solely for you. completed with you.
the well worn faces he bore occasionally were placed with such warmth and fondness whenever you were present, your name rolled off his tongue with the sweetest tone. he sought your body eagerly, to embrace you in front of —anyone, really, he didn’t even mind. you just whispered “shameless,” while giggling with delight. he smiled by knowing he made you happy.
he wore the name with acceptance. shameless he was. and any shape he would be molded into solely to please you.
and every time he was asked why he behaved in such way, his answer always stayed the same: he was just a man in love.
daydreams of the romance — ryomen sukuna and his clumsy attempts to ask the cute girl on a date!
| part one |
he had never desired to entirely disappear as much as he did in these days. excluding the time when he’d told you his name wrong, of course.
he verbally didn’t declare his little crush, as expected, but after the one text he’d sent to the group chat, they knew. ryomen sukuna, the asshole of the century, was burning with jealousy. over the slightest of interactions. without committing murder.
a sight to see, it really was and he knew from the moment he’d sent the text, they were not going to let him live it down. well, although it was not that easy to tease a guy like him since they never knew when they’d be meeting with his frightening rage, their expressions gave away anything they wished to say.
and really, the blush splayed out in his cheeks whenever they talked about you was not helping his errand, even though he was yelling while doing so.
from what they’ve gathered over the few days of sukuna utterly losing his mind, the guy you were talking to was actually not someone who you were close to but instead he was simply a lab partner. which, was something made sukuna think, the absolute ignorant dick he is, that it was rather justified to just go on and punch the guy across the face now, since you didn’t like him or anything.
what a way of thinking, really. he was a guy of rational thoughts.
thankfully his friends compelled him to think that if he were to do that, you would be quite upset. he didn’t get the reason behind it but the clumsy man in love he was, he believed them on instant. he was merely satisfying himself with grunting whenever he saw him or cursing under his breath with clenched fists.
he, learned how to hold himself back for the first time ever, despite the fact he was burning with rage inside.
really, he was doing so good. he didn’t even know where the black eye on the guy’s face came from and even wished a fast recovery on him. what a good man he was.
you were rather surprised with his personality (a personality he built up from scratch only for you) since he was known as a quite intimidating person based on his reputation, some even called him a beast which was actually really fitting for a guy like him.
but he was gentle with you, cute and awkward even. you liked his company, he didn’t talk much but he knew how to listen was what you thought.
in reality, he was just having a genuine crisis inside his mind. a chorus of chaos. his google searches were a mess.
‘how to ask a girl on a date?’
he had made his mind long ago, back then when you, with your angelic features, blessed him with the cutest smile ever seen. and now, he was a changed man. his heart melted along his grumpy facade. he knew that he was crushing on you, hell, he was in love with you. he wasn’t a coward with useless empty words, he thought, he simply loved you.
he learned all of these from your favorite books. which he, also, have read carefully. he knew what you liked. he memorized it.
the first time he tried to ask you out on a date, he was so silent that you couldn’t even hear him. and when you moved closer for him to repeat his words and your scent surrounded him, he thought he was about to pass out.
and since he believed that he was medically going to pass out, he just murmured something that came out as a cry of pain, and bolted to the exit while pushing and literally knocking people down with his huge figure. he even considered calling an ambulance.
he cussed himself the whole week. printed his face and stuck the photo to his punching bag. scowled anytime he laid his eyes on the printed photo. he thought he was a fucking loser.
when he gathered all his courage for the next attempt, which was not easy with the shame he felt inside, with his favorite tee clinging to his broad arms and showing his perfect figure, he was feeling good. he wore the familiar smirk, lifted his eyebrows, and repeated ‘i don’t look stupid i look damn hot’ three times. everything was perfect. neatly calculated.
but you were also feeling good. i’m going to wear my favorite and cutest tank top and bat my perfect eyelashes at sukuna as an attempt of murder kind of good.
he spilled his drink all over himself.
turns out that his clumsy huge hands, trying to be gentle around you, was not really built for dainty moves. and they also trembled severely around you.
you giggled. he thought he would bathe in chai tea lattes if it meant making you giggle that sweetly. with his black coffee dripping down his body and you giggling up at him and his idiotic self, he assumed heaven would sound exactly like that.
he then understood that he certainly needed to plan this whole ‘asking out on a date for the first time’ thing beforehand. he opened your spotify, spent minutes staring at your profile pic, than searched the playlists throughly.
he knew you loved a certain romcom which included a concert date. well, he had something even better in hand.
there was an upcoming summer festival with your favorite artist performing in it. he stood up and kissed the crumbled selfie on his punching bag. he was damn smart.
he bought the tickets before even asking you. searched good things to eat. checked the weather. found out what your favorite flower was.
he, with already knowing about your routines, went to the cafe at the usual time you did, this time with his nicest hoodie and something comfy, disheveled hair and slightly unfocused eyes. his state was screaming the lack of sleep and indeed, solely out of nervousness, he couldn’t sleep at all. he thought about you and your angelic face, dreamt about what was he going to do if you were to say no.
he, at three a.m, crashed out at the thought while spiraling in the room with the glint of sole madness in his eyes.
all he knew was that he had way too much love to let you go. and a bunch of anxiety, of course.
when you entered from the door with the cutest outfit, your scent lingering in the air, mingled with the thick note of coffee, he already was dizzy. he blinked nervously and gulped loudly, his hands fisted the soft fabric of the hoodie.
you smiled upon seeing him. he considered running away.
when he gathered his courage to sit across you, you just giggled with the angelic voice of yours. he coughed out of stress, and tried to hid his blush with his huge palms. well, it did work quite well too.
he felt like an idiot looking at your face and being unable to utter even one single word, let alone the practiced ones he had spent his days rehearsing. your sweet voice floated out the grand windows which let the warm strands of sun inside the cafe.
he breathed out a frustrated groan. ‘don’t fuck this up.’
he grabbed the sides of the wooden table with his grumpy expression he always wore. you thought he was looking rather troubled, and there came your good nature with pure intentions. a blessing upon him. a devilish little movement.
instead of directly asking, you traced his knuckles with your soft fingertips, a worried look on your face. a loud crack echoed in the air.
he cracked the table.
‘yeah, perfect, you fucking moron. that’s exactly how you ask a girl out.’
he groaned with rage. he was so damn mad at himself. he palmed his face with his rough hands, unable to look at your face.
he didn’t even know what was wrong with him. of course, he understood the math of having a crush for the first time, but hell, he could swear this was nothing near what people had told him. this was dehumanizing. something wicked. soul rotting. beautiful in its misery.
someone whispered ‘damn beast’ from the sides. you had to pull him out of the cafe for him to not throw a punch. he only gave up to not hurt you unintentionally.
but when you showed him how much you worried about him still, insisting on taking him to nursery since his hand bled slightly from a single cut caused by the crack on the table, he could swore he felt his eyes getting teary.
he was a gone man.
he blurted out the words of the festival while you were still insisting with the cutest shimmering eyes that completely bewitched him. you thought he was just having a small talk with you. he was trying eagerly to ask you on a date, as a defeated man. a suit he wore whenever he was with you. a man of defeat. just for a pair of pretty eyes and a lovely smile.
just for you.
you asked him if he liked the artist as well. he whispered ‘hell if i know.’ under his breath, with a crooked smile he practiced for you. he wasn’t known with his huge smiles, and it looked sinister when he tried. but it was the thought that counts, he hoped.
when you mentioned you would check the festival out, since your favorite artist was also having a concert, he almost screamed that he had, actually, two tickets. the blood was still spiraling down from his forearm with a thick crimson color. he didn’t care. his eyes were wavering looking into yours, waiting for your answer.
to be fair, he had never mentioned that he bought two tickets intentionally. but then again, he was so nervous and so in love to do so. he was glad that he could even get the right words out after countless of tries.
you didn’t catch on to the fact that he was asking you out on a date. you thought he bought two tickets by accident. when he stayed awake the whole night to not miss the tickets.
but it was too tempting for you. you, truly, had no choice other than to say yes.
he almost jumped out of joy, and had to bite his tongue to restrict himself from yelling in victory. pure victory. so victory feels like that, he thought. it was mind blowing, how the ryomen sukuna, the guy everyone was frightened by, turned into a hopeless man with a heavy heart whenever you were present.
he asked you out on a date. successfully. and you said yes, not even knowing it was a date. he narrowed his eyes.
did that mean you liked him back?
well, in his defense, no one had told him before he had to clarify the title. to call it a date. how the hell could he even know?
but he was already planning the outfit in his head. the hair. the cologne. he decided to quit smoking days before the date, since he knew you didn’t like the smell. a shoe in your favorite color. would a suit be more charming? he had rewatched your favorite romcoms to find out what kind of outfit you would like on the man for the first date. he wanted to match with you badly, but he slapped himself in shock upon the thought.
he scoffed at you with the slight whisper of ‘brat’ when you, again, smiled seeing the state he was in. you found his madness charming, although he couldn’t even be irritated by it. he just grunted some unclear words. lovingly.
you had a feeling that he might’ve liked you, but you didn’t want to assume anything just because he was being friendly. and in your defense, he genuinely didn’t talk much that you could understand his feelings. you, not knowing his personality, weren’t aware being present was an act affection for him.
when he got home from his first ever successful attempt to win you over, he laughed for a good fifteen minutes like a madman, and truly, with his spiky pink hair, tattoos etched all over his body with a dark ink, a permanent scowl on his face and his buffed figure, he did resemble a good villain. he acted like one as well.
he got your number saying he needed your address to pick you up, another win for him. he stared at your profile picture for hours, also opening it occasionally as a motivation through the day. when you, three days before the date, texted him what you were going to wear, a cute and nice little outfit, he planned his whole outfit from zero just to match with yours. he cleaned his car inside out, threw out all his cigarettes, got a neat haircut and bought a new cologne. it was that serious for him.
and then, the second text came in. a living proof of his desperation. a quiet show of vulnerability.
“so can i confess on the first date or would that be too soon?”
his undertones always contained respect, especially against his beloved wife. his harsh (as harsh as a gentleman like him could be) words carried the specific warmness you reconned, his stern looks carried a glint of fondness beneath. even when he had been clearly upset with you, he made sure he always carried love and respect within. his soft hands found your waist while he voiced his displeasure, caressing your sides with gentle yet strict words.
he held the doors for you all the time, whether his hands were occupied or not did not matter, it was out of question. he whispered “dear” in your ear right before asking for a favor, nuzzling to you with his soft body, his puffy hair tickling your cheeks, gentle voice tracing your ears and neck with his dewy lips touching you knowingly.
once you claimed to be tired, he was there with fuzzy blankets sliding down from his hands, a hot tea freshly brewed sitting by the couch, perfectly baked cinnamon rolls made their way to you and him, smiling tender, tracing your hair and massaging your scalp with his huge, relaxing hands.
you said the heat was getting to you, he was there to fan you nonstop for two hours, you were getting cold, even his sweater was out. there was only one spot available, he was crouching down beside you.
whenever your jokes went too far (the burdens of being an absolute comedian) he laughed them off while squeezing your tight a little firmer. not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know. he didn’t stop you, he could never have, he loved the creases appeared right besides your eyes whenever you laughed much harder, or the sounds you made, and your warm and comfy body pressing against his; but he warned without making it evident.
even when he kissed you without respect, pressed against the wall and all heated, he traced his hands down your hair with soft touches, untangling it since he knew how much you hated your hair getting tangled.
he had never let you sleep with an unresolved tension after a hurtful argument. he was outside the bedroom door, slouching down the hallway with his head between his hands, providing you the privacy and space of the bedroom while he whispered sweet words against the door with shallow breaths. you could hear the desperation through his voice carried by the muffled words, yearning to understand you, not to be only understood. seeking your feelings instead of pushing his’ upon you.
whenever he saw you getting tired from walking in heels all day, his eagerness to help you unfolded with him carrying you in his secure arms and squeezing you lovingly anytime he wished to press a kiss against your temple, your heels swinging down in his hands and you giggling nonstop into his broad chest. him, with a glowing smile on his face. your glossy eyes watching him tenderly, and his silky shirt caressing your face.
he came with his comfort, his ease, the storms silenced and your heart wavered. it was not the show he put on, it was his existence. it was him and his ways.
he studied your expressions through the day as a habit. he listened to you as an oath. he was present even when he physically was not. he left for work earlier than you did, and whenever you slept in, he prepared you the coffee just as you liked it, your breakfast was ready on the counter with a little note attached to it, your skirt you planned to wear for work freshly ironed and ready in your dressing room.
he carried your bags, pressed a warm kiss on your hand, bought you flowers just because. he showed how much he too enjoyed loving you, how much he adored loving you loudly and devotedly.
he endeared your presence. not what you had to offer.
and he didn’t make you feel less, like you ought to be protected, like you were lesser than a person than he was, like you were there to be kept, like you were powerless beneath his touch. like you needed his presence to be content.
instead, he made you feel equal and cherished, respected as a human, not just as a woman. this was him respecting and adoring you, not smothering you, not exerting his dominance over you inconsiderately. he seized any moment to cherish you. his gestures didn’t stem from your need, it came by his wish to love you better.
to love you grander.
and what made you love him more was that, his respect was not reserved for you only. his love, yes, solely for you, but he respected almost the whole existence because that’s who he was. he held the door for women, gave sweet treats to kids, spoke with gentle words to everyone he came across. he was a sweet man of endearing gestures.
nanami kento, the gentleman he is, made everyday easier for you to fall in love with him over and over again, with his stupid fashion sense and even dumber gentle heart.
