#sukuna fluff

[zyafics]

PAPA, UP! | Sukuna Ryomen

MASTERLIST / When your daughter wants to be carried, you delegate that task to your husband.

“Mama, up!”

You stopped in the middle of your walk to stare at your four-year-old daughter. Crimson eyes blinked up at you with expectations while her outstretched hands open and close into tiny, impatient fists.

You were exhausted. Having spent the entire evening walking around the pier, your feet were sore, and your arms felt like they weighted a ton. All you wanted was to go home.

But your daughter had other plans—asking you to carry her for the rest of the walk back to the car.

Her mouth slanted into a pout, her continuous grappling with her tiny fingers, while she tilted her head to the side.

You turned to your husband. Sukuna watched the interaction with a detached expression on his face, and offering no assistance. Eyes on his daughter—salmon-colored hair pulled into pigtails, crimson eyes identical to him—with cool exterior.

“This is for you,” you said solemnly.

His eyes snapped to your face. “She called for you.”

“You were made for this,” you encouraged, ignoring his observation with a pat on his arm. Sukuna rolled his eyes, but responded with nothing as he stepped toward his daughter.

Her outstretched arms pivoted to him. “Papa, up.” She murmured, rosy cheeks from the seaside breeze, her lips pulled into a pout that remarkably looked so much like you.

“You’re grown enough to walk.”

“Papa,” She pouted again, her bottom lip wobbly as her fingers closed and opened into her small palms. Sukuna sighed in concession, lowering himself to scoop his daughter into his arms.

She went lax under her father’s touch—proving your theory that it wasn’t just you she wanted, she just wanted to stop walking—and dug her pudgy cheek onto his shoulder. Crimson eyes fluttered as she fell into the safety spell of her father’s embrace.

Warmth spread to your chest as you watched the entire interaction. Contrasting with such a small, fragile thing, Sukuna carried your daughter with such firm gentleness, it made your heart fluttered in many ways, your mind swimming with all the reasons why you got pregnant in the first place.

Sukuna resumed the trek back to the car. You followed closely behind, still observing how your daughter felt so cozy in her father’s arms, she even had a little bit of drool from the carry. You made it a few steps until you suddenly lagged behind, and immediately, without fail, Sukuna picked up on it.

Skirting to a stop, with his child tucked under one arm, he turned around with narrowed eyes.

“What is it now, wife?”

Heat rose to your cheeks. You shyly stretched your arms out, just like your daughter did, pouting in the same way as her, closing and opening your fists in mirror image.

And that was how Sukuna ended up carrying his wife and child in his arm, each falling asleep on each shoulder, each felt safe enough with the King of Curses.

[beaniesayshi]

i just reached another milestone, thank you all so much <3

i kinda want to celebrate by writing a one shot chosen by all of you! no promises i’ll get to it quickly because… gestures wildly at the lamb and thursdays and my growing pile of wips 😭 but i’m really curious…

which one shot would you like to read the most?

rapper!sukuna

mma fighter!sukuna

hockey team captain!sukuna

something else?

Remaining time: 17 hours 54 minutes

[van1llabeann]

coasters and whatnot

(sukuna x thoughtful reader)

contains: fluff, reader crocheting because i do, sukuna not knowing what to do, readers love language is gift giving?, uncle sukuna

toji x sukuna x reader masterlist

sukuna isn’t one to expect people to do things to make his life easier in the way that you do. he’s much happier to complain in a passing conversation and then accept his new reality or change it himself if needed.

he didn’t get why you listened to the slightest of grievances and actuallly proposed solutions when it just wasn’t that serious. which is how we got here.

sukuna making a recipe that the two of you knew all too well whilst you lingered having been told he liked cooking for you.

you look around the now decorated kitchen from all the gifts you’d gotten and made for him rather than the bleak and boring scene it was. until the round and dark— presumably coffee stains that litter the kitchen island catch your eye.

“thought you were a clean freak.” you laugh turning back to a now confused sukuna who hums as if asking ‘what?’ then looks behind you and mutters a small “yujis fault. can’t find a coaster for shit.”

yuji had slowly started to reclaim sukuna’s apartment as his own under the guise of missing his favourite and only uncle when really it was the only place he could play his games freely after getting grounded for eons.

again you look around at the seemingly invisible things then turn back to the chef with a grin that could only be described as plotting.

“don’t look at me like that.” he sighs. the sounds of the knife hitting the chopping board gradually quietens before he moves to face you, palms planted on the counter.

“like what?” your tone is smooth and taunting. something that makes sukuna look away to hide his own growing smile! its moments like this that he still hasn’t become fully invitational of. “i’m just saying that it looks like you can’t keep coasters, and maybe if they were made with love them you wouldn’t.”

his scoff is incredulous because just like before you’d swoop in like it was moral obligation to kiss his wounds better when he didn’t even have any. it’s the same as the scarf you made him when choso stole his, or the oven mitts even though he told you a couple burns weren’t that serious.

sukuna was unsurprisingly quiet for the most part but manages to whisper a reassurance that there was no need to but of course you wouldn’t listen.

.

.

one day, one skein and 4 new additions to sukuna’s kitchen that were bound to make his heart clench in a way that would render him speechless for a couple hours.

he already knew when he opened the door.

he already knew when you pulled out something neatly wrapped and laid it out for him to open.

and you already knew that no matter his objections claiming it was a waste of time he was more than grateful. despite not being able to string a couple of words together sukuna was willing to show it in other ways.

[swvness]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ frat!kuna headcannons ✷

ⓘ frat!kuna was far from your typical prince charming... | art by su2kuna on x

» frat!kuna who's the textbook definition of a walking red flag, the one's parents warned their daughters about before sending them off to college, the ones police knew on a first-name basis, & the one's every girl on campus raved about in their group chats.

» frat!kuna who's body was a field day for metal detectors, adorned in body jewelry ranging from facial to more daring ones hidden below the belt. he looked like he'd walked straight out of a 2000s teen movie, backpack slung over one broad shoulder, tattooed skin, baggy jeans and band tees he'd stolen from suguru.

» frat!kuna who had more assault charges and, ironically, hot mugshots from frat parties than one could count on hands; satoru and suguru were quick to intervene, toji laughed, choso winced, and nanami tsked like an unimpressed father. in sukuna's latest arrest, he attempted to convince the police his fist 'slipped' and somehow connected to naoya’s jaw. purely accidental.

» frat!kuna who's room in the frat house smelled of lingering teen spirit, weed from his new dealer, the musk of sex, and cologne to 'conceal it.' a forgotten bra from a blurry hookup last saturday swept under his bed, a pile of two-week-old laundry in his hamper, his walls covered with random band posters, warning signs, and magazines of half-naked girls. 

» frat!kuna who spent most his days being a pain in the ass, getting high, fucking around, or practicing his boxing skills at the gym. he despised this cycle, though he believed it was all he'd ever amount to. hiding how smart he truly was, how he read psychology books because they genuinely intrigued him, or how the fog and rain seemed to capture his soul.

» frat!kuna who first saw you in a vinyl shop, and felt like he'd seen an angel that day. who knew angels listened to cigarettes after sex and paramore? he watched the way you hummed songs under your breath, jewelry jingled as you thumbed through the selections, greeted the cashier as if you were a regular--and suddenly the phrase, 'love at first sight' almost made sense.

» frat!kuna who found himself wanting to truly get to know you, not just get in your pants like any other girl. his red eyes searching for you around campus, trying to learn your schedule, watching the way you studied hard for exams in the library on quiet nights, or how you always sprinted toward your dorm when it was late, like you feared being chased--cute, he noted to never let you go alone again.

» frat!kuna who finally got your number, thanks to the help of choso, and asked you on an official date he meticulously planned, knowing you were more artsy. he ended up sounding like an idiot trying to form the right words and ryomen sukuna never fumbled around with girls, except you. those pretty eyes waiting patiently were almost too much for his hardened heart. "you and me...the museum downtown this friday?" "i mean...if you want. i'm not forcing you, i--fuck. ignore that. ignore me."

» frat!kuna who spent the entire duration of said date staring at you, the way you spoke, how you laughed quietly to yourself after your own jokes, and rolled your eyes at his with a small smile. the witty jabs you exchanged effortlessly, or the way you kept glancing back to make sure you weren't talking to yourself when he got silent. he found himself actually smiling when you were nerding out, effortlessly breaking down the backstories behind each piece. and that's when he truly knew he was fucked.

» frat!kuna who never cared for relationships or buying shit for girls, thinking it was for 'dorks.' yet let you splurge his card at the mall, waving you off whenever you tried to tell him you didn't need things he knew you wanted. he knew more about you than he did himself, he realized. smiling when you gushed over everything at the end of the night, giving him huge hauls, and sukuna entertained the entire thing, as if he didn't spend the money.

» frat!kuna who found himself being softer in his own way, didn't drive off before you got inside or let you open your own doors like he would've past girls. he kept his previous veil mouth to a tamer level whenever you were in proximity, and tried to focus on his studies so you wouldn't stress about him failing classes. staying up until midnight listening to you yap over the phone about random nonsense. "no, i wouldn't love you if you were a worm...gross." "but kuna--" "fine. i'd keep you in my pocket. happy??"

» frat!kuna who never claimed girls in the past, yet at every frat party or time you were both in public, he made sure to emphasize you were his girlfriend, hand glued to your hip, the small of your back, fingers twined, or guiding you around by the back of your head. all his frat brothers knew you were it for him, even if he wouldn't be caught dead telling them.

» frat!kuna who found himself venting to you about his childhood in moments when it was just the two of you, sprawled on his bed, his head in your lap, fingers in his hair. the words just slipping out, why he was such a dick, how it was a deflection--a way of rebelling for the way the world had treated him. if everyone already deemed him as unlovable, a failure, a product of his environment, and useless, why not prove them right?

» frat!kuna who started loving his birthday--not caring for them before; to him, it was just another day, only he was a year older. he didn't love them now because he cared about seeing another year, but because he got to spend another year with you. seeing your face light up when you brought him a cake you made, singing off-key and recording, that's the only wish he had--for this dream to never end.

» frat!kuna who sometimes pondered on how you were too good for him, too precious. you deserved better than him, someone without his past, someone who could worship your every breath. and yet, he wanted you anyway. selfishly. unconditionally.

» frat!kuna who treated sex like raw intimacy instead of a quick release with you. emotions over plain relief. taking his time with foreplay, actually going down on you, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying everything before he even considered himself. constantly praising you over degradation--though sex could still be rough and loud whenever you wanted the change. "you're so fuckin' pretty, keep those eyes on me, kay? just like that."

» frat!kuna who never said the words 'i love you,' not even to his family, they felt foreign on his tongue, his throat tightening around them, but looking at you, it only felt right. so he did, making sure he told you frequently, even if it was random. and he meant it each time.

» frat!kuna who didn't think about his future, not sure if he'd even be around by then with his past lifestyle. he hated children, the thought of having to bring another life into this world when he could barely take care of himself. yet found himself wondering what features they'd have, maybe your eyes and his nose? or those cute lips that make the most adorable pout when you're mad at him.

» frat!kuna who somehow found himself on one knee holding a diamond ring he worked his ass off for on your third anniversary, wanting to wait until you got your degrees to officially make you his, promising himself to you till death.

» frat!kuna who never truly changed who he was; he just became a better version of himself, one that could be worthy to be in your life. he was tired of being written off as the asshole or fuck up; he preferred being yours.

a/n: longer and angstier than i expected...

tags:@wifichann @sunnyfieldsz @satorusonlygirl @bowiesprettieststar2 @neotoru @b-bitter @tchmiya @lillylovestoji92 @v4mpyyb4tzz+ join or in the comments

©2026 swvness. All works belong to @swvness. Do NOT repost, modify, translate, plagiarize, or feed my work to AI in any way on ANY platforms. 𑄝੭

[beaniesayshi]

asking Sukuna if you're too clingy

The bedroom is entirely silent, illuminated only by the warm glow of the bedside lamp on his side of the bed. It’s late, well past midnight, and Sukuna’s propped up against the pillows in nothing but boxers, holding a book open in his right hand, completely at ease, while the other is trapped beneath your weight.

Sprawled shamelessly across his side, your cheek pressed right over his ribs, you let your body go limp while your mind refuses to follow suit. Restlessness creeps in, your thoughts racing in circles, dredging up problems just for the sake of having something to gnaw on. The silence makes your thoughts feel way too loud, twisting a thin, ridiculous thread of worry out of nothing at all.

Your eyes drift over the page of his book without taking in a single word, and before you can stop yourself, the question tumbles out into the dim room, your voice barely above a whisper and oddly hesitant.

"You ever think I'm too clingy? Like... you ever wish I gave you more space?"

Sukuna freezes beneath your cheek, every muscle going rigid. After a moment, he drops his book onto the nightstand, tilting his head down, crimson eyes blown wide with pure, flat-out bewilderment. He stares at you, genuinely trying to figure out if he heard you right, like you’ve suddenly started speaking a completely foreign language.

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he asks, his gravelly voice dropping into a low, stunned rumble that cuts right through the quiet air. He shifts under you, eyebrow cocked, shooting you a look like you’ve just sprouted horns. "Where the hell is this coming from? Who put that stupid shit in your head?"

"Dunno," you mumble, heat creeping up your cheeks as the words hang in the air, sounding even more absurd now that they’re out. Your fingers fidget with a stray thread on the duvet, eyes glued to the fabric. "My brain’s just being an asshole tonight."

A deep, exasperated scoff rumbles out of your husband, but the tightness in his jaw softens almost immediately, replaced by a raw, unguarded fondness that settles over his face.

“Woman, have you been paying attention to me at all these past few years? Seriously, think for one fucking second, idiot." The command comes out rough, but there’s no bite to it, just a lot of tired fondness. He jerks his chin at the bed, making you actually look at the state of things. "Look at you. You’re basically glued to my side, I can’t even move my damn arm. You’re in my shirt, you stole my socks, and your freezing-ass hand is between my thighs. If I wanted space, trust me, you’d be on the floor."

A tiny, involuntary giggle slips out of you, but he’s not finished. His hand squeezes your waist as he shifts beneath you just enough to remind you how much bigger he is.

“I’m a grown-ass man. I’m stronger than you,” he goes on, his voice rumbling right through his chest and into your cheek. "If I wanted to move, I'd move. But you? You’re glued to me every fucking day, stealing my personal space since day one. You climb on me when I’m trying to read, treat me like a mattress—and I never stop you. Ever think that’s because I want you there?”

His hand comes up, large and rough, calloused fingers curling gently beneath your chin, tipping your face toward his. Shadows flicker across his features, but his eyes lock onto yours with a fierce, protective devotion that knocks the breath right out of you.

“I agreed to that stupid ‘hear me out’ cake just to hear you laugh,” he rumbles, shaking his head, and at last, a wide grin splits his face. “I drove across the city so you could look at ducks. Does that sound like a man who wants less of you? Your brain’s being a dick. Tell it to shut up.”

“…fair,” you admit quietly, and the heavy, tangled knot of overthinking in your chest finally starts to unravel under the weight of his logic.

“Actually, hold the fuck on,” Sukuna growls, moving from underneath you to lean over you, completely wrapping you in his bulk. “You think you’re the clingy one?”

Caught completely off guard by the sudden intensity in his voice, you blink up at him.

“I call you every fucking day, or you’d forget to eat,” he starts, not giving you a chance to interrupt, his eyes locking onto yours. "Started doing that stupid skincare with you. Hid roses around the apartment just so you’d smile all day. Crawled under a fucking car because you wanted a cat. I panic if you’re not in bed, can’t fall back asleep till you’re back in my arms. Let you tank my fucking CS rank ‘cause apparently you gotta touch my arm every six seconds. And you think I want more space? You think I’d still be here doing all that shit if you were too much for me?”

You stay completely silent, your mouth parting slightly as you stare at him, your heart hammering against your ribs from the weight of everything he’s just said. He, on the other hand, is looking at you like you’re absolutely hopeless.

“Use your goddamn brain, woman,” Sukuna murmurs with a crooked grin, his deep voice thick with fondness. “Who’s actually clingy in this relationship? I’ve been chasing after you for years…” He trails off, clicks his tongue, then reluctantly admits, “…like a fucking idiot.”

Whatever heavy, stupid fog was clouding your mind finally lifts, swept away by a rush of pure warmth. A bright smile breaks across your face as your hands slide up his bare chest, arms winding tight around his neck to pull him down into a deep, lingering kiss.

Sukuna lets out a satisfied chuckle against your lips as he pulls back just slightly, crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. "Understood?"

A breathless laugh escapes you, your chest still fluttery with relief. "Yeah. Thanks, Kuna." You kiss him again, softer this time, lips lingering on his. When you pull away, you can’t help but smile, teasing, "And it’s definitely you."

He groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. "Don’t start, brat."

 

a/n: okay, so this happened because someone asked me to write about insecurities, and that ask somehow sent me down a completely different rabbit hole. i started thinking about the difference between insecurities and your brain just deciding to be an absolute asshole for one evening and… well, this happened.

dunno, maybe it's because my previous adhd meds used to make me overthink once they wore off, and it'd always be the most ridiculous stuff i'd never question in a million years otherwise.

domestic sukuna masterlist

[beaniesayshi]

this is Sukuna. Sukuna loves his personal space. this is you. you also love Sukuna's personal space—especially when he’s making coffee in a heatwave. it can be read on its own, but is part of my new Sukuna loves his personal space mini-series

Sunlight pours through the kitchen windows, painting the hardwood in long, blinding squares that radiate heat. Not even ten yet, and the whole apartment feels like it’s been slow-roasting for hours, every movement weighed down by the dead heat of summer. Sukuna stands by at the counter, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxers, his skin already slick from the humidity. His massive, muscled back faces the room, shoulders broad and relaxed as he waits for the kettle to boil, while one hand rests on his hip, head tipped back just enough to catch the quiet, lazy start of the day.  

Sukuna loves his personal space when he's making coffee in a heatwave. You, on the other hand, happen to love Sukuna's personal space more than your own.

Padding into the kitchen in an oversized tank top, your bare feet tap against the sun-warmed floorboards. You don't even glance at the empty barstools at the island or the wide, open space by the fridge, walking with your eyes fixed on the broad, sculpted lines of his back. Without so much as a warning, you slip right into his shadow and press your whole front against his bare skin, arms winding around his thick waist as you bury your face between his shoulder blades.

Sukuna doesn’t flinch. He’s long since gotten used to your silent sneak attacks, but his whole body vibrates with a slow, heavy exhale through his nose. He stays put, even as the skin-to-skin contact seals a stifling pocket of heat between you, sweat prickling where your bodies meet.

"Are you serious right now?" he rumbles, his deep morning voice incredibly rough, thick with sleep, sounding more put-upon than actually annoyed.

"Sooo serious," you mumble into his skin, your voice muffled by his warm skin as you squeeze him a little tighter just to be annoying.

He doesn’t try to pry your fingers apart, just cranes his neck enough to shoot you a flat, deadpan glare over his shoulder. "It’s literally thirty-five degrees in here. We’re both sticky as hell and you’re still doing this."

"Don't care," you say, completely unfazed as you smoosh your cheek into his back, finding the comfiest spot. "I'm already hot anyway. Might as well go all the way.”

A quiet, defeated huff escapes Sukuna, his chest rising and falling against your arms locked tight around him. He stands there, trapped against the kitchen counter by someone a fraction of his size, and simply accepts his fate. Another long, theatrical groan rumbles out, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling like he’s asking the universe why he’s got to deal with this.

"There’s a whole apartment, you know," he grumbles, but his hand reaches down, his fingers mindlessly wrapping around your wrist where your hands are joined over his stomach, and his thumb traces lazy circles into your skin. "Go sprawl on the bathroom tile or park yourself in front of the AC. Why do you always gotta glue yourself to me the second I stand up?"

"Because I love holding my husband,” you reason, wiggling a little closer to prove your point, your toes curling against the floor. "Besides, you’re the best view around."

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, his lips twitching despite his obvious attempt to keep looking annoyed. "You're a parasite. A tiny, heat-seeking parasite."

"Your favorite parasite," you correct, grinning into his back, way too pleased with yourself.

"Debatable," he grumbles, but the fond grin tugging at his lips ruins any real complaint. He squeezes your wrist gently, a silent admission that he isn't actually going anywhere.

When the kettle finally starts to whistle, Sukuna doesn’t shove you off or even try to shake you loose. He just sighs, shaking his head as he shifts his weight, careful not to dislodge you. Navigating the counter for two mugs and the coffee grounds, he moves slowly, dragging you along with every step, your body glued to his back like a stubborn backpack.

"If I spill hot water on you, that’s on you, not me," he murmurs, dropping his voice to that low rumble you love as he carefully pours the water, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist to keep you steady against him.

"You won’t," you shoot back confidently.

"Might," he chuckles softly, a deep, gravelly vibration that rolls right through his back and into your chest. "Maybe you’ll learn about boundaries. Since you’re here, grab the sugar for me, yeah?"

 

a/n: domestic sukuna masterlist

[kenforty]

𓍼. Blood pressure.

Firefighter!Sukuna who starts believing in miracles when you slide him your phone number under the guise of prescription, dainty fingers wrapped around his wrist, feeling his pulse before you pulled away, leaving behind a tingling on his skin.

He wouldn't say it out loud but he did sniff his wrist like a dog in the privacy of his own home.

Firefighter!Sukuna who somehow managed to land a date with you, between horrible typos and genuine spelling mistakes you still somehow thought he was worthy of dating.

Firefighter!Sukuna who sits opposite to you in the cafe booth, fingers fidgeting with the napkin beside his plate as you scanned the menu.

"Have you been here before?" You looked up, soft eyes meeting his widened ones, "do you have any recommendations?"

"Water's good." Sukuna blurted out, tip of his ears turning red as he simultaneously registered your question and his own response, "I mean like, it's crispy and hydrating, I don't drink—sorry I haven't been here before."

Firefighter!Sukuna who dreadfully waits for you to realise how much of a loser he is and walk away.

From his jumbled words to clumsy hands nearly dropping a jug full of water in your lap, he was sure you'd block him by the end of the night.

Firefighter!Sukuna who is pleasantly surprised to somehow find himself at you apartment, your fingers tugging his collar as you desperately claimed his mouth, heels digging into the back of his thighs from where he had you pressed against the door.

He squeezed your thighs, pulling away from your lips to scan your apartment, eyes searching for way to your bedroom, afterall he had been here few weeks ago.

"It's the one in far left." You mumbled against his throat, lapping up at his bobbing adams apple, arms tightening around his neck as he stepped into the living space, "wait, take off your clothes."

"Here?" Sukuna looked into your open living room, gently letting go of your body as your feet settled on the ground, watching as you haphazardly tucked at he straps of your sundress, plush tits spilling over the collar as you pushed it down, "You want to have sex here?"

You stop stripping, eyes wide as you turn around to look at the space available, before continuing to shimmy out of your dress, "later, let's get to bedroom first."

Firefighter!Sukuna who feels precum oozing out of his tip at the mere thought of later, he followed your lead, clumsily stripping down to his underwear, eyes locked on the way you casually slid your panties off, strutting your way to the bedroom.

He slowly followed you inside, cheeks red as he took in the way you had decorated your room, warmth blooming in his belly at the thought of being in your space.

"Come, wash your hands." You tilted your head towards the bathroom, wetting your hands before pumping out handwash, expectedly waiting for him to join you.

Confusion painted his features but he still abided by your request, naked and horny and washing his hands.

"You are about to put your hands on and in me, I want them clean."

Oh. Oh.

Firefighter!Sukuna who goes one step ahead, hands curling so he could fill them with water, before splashing it on his face, making sure to rub around his mouth twice.

You watch him in curiosity, eyes sparkling as he wipes his face dry with one of the towels you handed him.

"I wanted to, you know." He gestured vaguely with his hand, when he spotted your raised eyebrow, he elaborated further, "I wanted to eat your pussy too."

Firefighter!Sukuna who is surprised when you, quite literally jumped his bones, face flushed as you pushed him onto the bed, crawling between his legs to smother his face with kisses.

Firefighter!Sukuna who leaned over your body, hand wrapped around his thick cock as you spread your pussy.

He tapped the tip of his cock against your clit, relishing in the way you squirmed, hips weakly rutting upwards, chasing his fleeting touches.

Momentarily, he visualised the water hose, weirdly comparing his cock to it, after all he was about to extinguish the fire in your bell—

He was probably daydreaming for too long, when your voice brought him back to the bedroom.

"Still with me, 'Kuna?" You mumbled, reaching up to cradle his jaw, eyes soft as you pecked the corner of his mouth. "What are you thinking about?"

Firefighter!Sukuna who groaned, eyes screwed shut as tried to find a way to explain to you his analogy without sounding—insane.

And you are looking up at him so—tenderly, eyes soft and worried, brows furrowed, and then his gaze drifts lower, pebbled nipples and love bites littered on your sternum and lower where you pussy waits in anticipation, so wet.

And the his dick—the hose.

"Your pussy, my dic—the fire," he stammered, dread pulling in his stomach as the furrow between your brows deepens, you are trying your best to understand him, "i am stupid." He huffed helplessly, arm bending at the elbows as he leaned down, pressing his chest against yours, cock smushed against your pussy, drawing a gasp from your pretty lips. "Shi—sorry."

"Move 'Kuna," You pushed slightly against his toned belly, reaching between your bodies to surl your fingers around his length, feeling him shudder against your grasp, "don't tease me now." You pouted, aligning his tip with your entrance, smearing his precum messily over your folds.

Firefighter!Sukuna who pushed past his thoughts and focuses on you, the spasming of your walls as his tip pushes past the entrance, the arching of your back as you accomodate to his girth, the way your hand hovers over your clit, not yet touching because he knows you'll cum too fast if you did.

He steadied himself over you, breath fanning on your cheeks as he reached between your bodies with his free hand, gently guiding your hand around his neck, before trailing back down.

Pulling out, he rubbed his thumb across your entrance, gathering slick before guiding his cock back inside, smearing the fluid on your clit, thumb rough and pressured against your tender bud.

"Kuna—" You moaned, trembling in his hold, completely at his mercy as he set a slow rhythm, thick cock dragging deliciously against your wet walls, your nails dig into the skin of his back, huffing out breaths with each thrust.

Firefighter!Sukuna who has you falling apart in his hold, cock red and throbbing with a pulse as you cum around him, thick creamy coating his base, sloppy mess between your bodies.

Firefighter!Sukuna who mutters out, "Whe—where do you want me?" Words muffled against the skin of your shoulder, hips rutting forward as his thumb relentlessly drew shapes on your clit, unbothered by the fact that you already coated him in your creamy slick twice.

You don't answer, you can't—answer, mind devoid of any coherent thought, you could barely focus on anything other then his cock battering your insides and his thumb swapping slick on your bud.

Firefighter!Sukuna who looks down at your ruined appearance, eyes glossy and filled with stars, cheeks red, lips swollen and rosy, he presses one long wet kiss against your plush cheek, pulling out in one go, hand letting go of your waist and wrapping around his length, blurring as he stroked himself, cum splattering on your belly and thighs, some droplets even managing to paint your nipples.

Firefighter!Sukuna who lays flat on his back in your bed, tanned and tattoed skin surrounded by baby pink duvet and teeny tiny plushies, his back supported by what he assumes are, at least 5 small pillow.

His dick, soft and shiny, tucked between his thighs, he turns he head to see you sprawled beside him hands trailing up and down your body, fingers occasionally smearing his coating your belly.

"You want to was—"

"Round two by the ent—"

Both of your stop immediately, widened eyes meeting another set of widened eyes, you stop fiddling with his cream coating your belly, instead you turn towards, ignoring the squelch as remnants of body fluids, leaked out. "I thought firefighters had stamina?"

Firefighter!Sukuna who is dumbfounded by your question, eyes shining with mirth as he took turned towards you, dick bobbing down as blood rushed south again. "Was just being courteous."

He huffed, getting off the bed and dragging you to the edge by your ankle, grinning wide as loud cackles escaped your lips, easily tossing you over his shoulder as he made his way out to the living room.

"Where do you want to start, Ma'am?"

Part I

[beaniesayshi]

this is Sukuna. Sukuna loves his personal space. this is you. you also love Sukuna's personal space—especially when he’s reading a book. it can be read on its own, but is part of my new Sukuna loves his personal space mini-series

Some documentary drones on in the background, but neither of you pays it any mind. Sprawled out in his usual spot on the sofa, Sukuna has his ankles crossed and hooked over the edge of the coffee table, a thick paperback balanced open in one hand. The soft, worn gray shirt clings to his shoulders, the fabric stretched just enough to show off the muscle underneath, and he looks every bit like a man determined to wring a scrap of peace from the tail end of a long, draining week.

The narrator rambles on about ancient architecture, but your attention is glued to the way the muscle in Sukuna’s forearm flexes every time he turns a page. It’s infuriatingly attractive, and tonight, you’ve already decided you’re going to be the worst kind of distraction. Leaving well enough alone has never been your strong suit, and the fact that he’s so obviously craving a quiet reading session only makes it too tempting to ignore.

Sukuna loves his personal space when he's reading a book. You, on the other hand, happen to love Sukuna's personal space more than your own.

It starts off innocently enough. Ignoring the wide stretch of empty couch between you, you shuffle across the cushions, inching closer until your arm is pressed flush against the solid warmth of his bicep.

Sukuna doesn't move and doesn't even look up from the page he’s reading, but a faint, familiar twitch pulls at the corner of his jaw. He lets out a low, slow exhale through his nose—a silent, patient sigh that says he knows exactly what’s coming next. He’s trying to keep his focus, but just having you this close is already wearing down his resolve, bit by bit.

A minute ticks by. Deciding that just sitting next to him is nowhere near close enough, you shift your weight, turning sideways and pulling your knees up onto the cushions. Without hesitation, you drape your entire lower half across the breadth of his thick thighs. Your elbow finds a home on his chest, his pectoral muscle serving as a perfectly contoured armrest, and you prop your chin in your palm, gazing up at his face. From this angle, the subtle flare of his nostrils and the hitch in his breath are impossible to miss.

Sukuna closes his eyes for a brief second, letting the book drop slightly, his large fingers marking his place in the chapter as he finally tilts his head down to look at you. Annoyance lingers in his eyes, sure, but it’s softened by a heavy indulgence he doesn’t even bother to hide.

"Can I help you, brat?" he mutters, voice low, rough, and dripping with mock exhaustion. There’s a hint of a smirk, but he tries to bury it behind a flat stare.

"Just hanging out," you say, grinning up at him with your best innocent face and batting your lashes a little too dramatically.

He snorts, eyes rolling so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck before fixing back onto you with a glare that’s all weight and no real heat. “There’s a whole damn couch, and you’d rather crowd me. You’ve got about two inches left to conquer before you’re sitting on my face.”

"Don't tempt me," you answer smoothly, completely unbothered by the slight growl in his voice. Just to prove your point, you wiggle a little closer, sliding your cold hands under the hem of his t-shirt and pressing them flat against the heat of his stomach, feeling the ridges of his abs under your fingers.

A sharp, involuntary huff escapes Sukuna and his abs tense at the sudden chill of your touch. Still, he doesn’t shove you off or even shift his legs to dump you onto the floor. Instead, with a heavy, utterly defeated sigh that says everything about how hopelessly gone for you he is, his free hand abandons the book. His large, calloused palm drops onto the small of your back, blunt nails mindlessly tracing those slow, soothing patterns you love right through your clothes. It’s his version of surrender.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” he grumbles, but the sharp edge of his voice is completely ruined by the fond grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.

"Mmhmm," you hum, eyes fluttering shut as you nuzzle closer to his chest, soaking up the steady thump of his heartbeat, not fooled for a second by his grumbling.

Sukuna shakes his head, a low, gravelly chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. Readjusting his grip on the paperback, he lifts it over your shoulder so he can keep reading, fully resigned to being your personal mattress for the rest of the evening. One last, lingering squeeze to your waist, his thumb dragging slow circles into your hip, and then he leans down to press a firm kiss to the top of your head.

"Just stay still," he mutters, voice muffled against your hair. "Trying to finish this chapter, but someone’s making it impossible."

 

a/n: domestic sukuna masterlist