it's platonicly fineee
Ikemen Villains content coming soon, stay tuned
(college au) she was a baseballer he did ballet
Hi!! Congrats on 100 followers!!! <3
For the event “If I kiss you once, it’ll only make me want a 100 more” with Childe and fluff please? Thank you and once again congratulations!!
Word Count: 1.9k
Genre: fluff, slight angst (seemingly unrequited love?) but happy end :) + fake dating
c/w: none
Thank you to my lovely nephew @solaaresque for proof-reading this for me <3
“Childe, isn’t this too much?” You hiss by his ears, watching as he pays $200 for a pair of tickets.
“Well, I’d like it if we end this on a bang.” He takes your hands and you find your hands easing into his.
You make sure you memorise the way his hands as both of you walk through the gates. The sun hasn’t fully risen, but the image of the setting sun is already so vivid in your head. And the days after where your hand would stay empty without his.
“It didn’t have to be this… lavish. It’s not going to be believable to people if we break off after something like this, and I don’t even think Aether is following us?”
You sneak a glance over your shoulder. But with the crowds of people following behind you, it was as if you never checked.
“Don’t worry about it, [name]. Just take this as thanks and I’ll manage whatever comes after.”
He gives a reassuring smile for a second and in the next second, he cheers like a little kid, pointing at the roller coaster ride in the distance.
It takes all of you to remain indifferent in the face of his smile.
You were at your locker when someone swung an arm over your shoulder. “Hey, [name].”
You stiffened up. Childe was in the same classes as you, but beyond the occasional banter and waves in the corridor (that you’re pretty sure he does with everyone), you had no idea what warranted this overly-friendly gesture.
In a hushed voice and a tone of desperation, he pleaded, “Please, play along with me.”
He briefly glances to his left and you see a blond boy, Aether, frozen at the turning of the hallway. His expression shifted and he stomped off.
Childe’s arm still slung on your shoulders, you wiggled out of his hold. Without you asking, he explained that he had rejected Aether but he was annoyingly persistent. You thought it was odd because you knew Aether to be prim and proper, but you never knew him personally anyway. Not as personally as Childe.
“Alright, I’ll help you until he backs off. But first, I’m gonna draw some boundaries.”
“No kissing.”
“Of course I’m not going to kiss you!”
“Just in case! I’ll never know if you get driven into a corner and rob my first kiss.”
“And we only hold hands in school. Outside of school, no.”
“What? What if we see other people outside of school?”
“Then we’ll do it for a while until they get out of our radar.”
Both of you start with those, adding rules along the way.
(Of course, there is the unspoken never to fall in love with each other.)
You chide yourself internally for breaking the unspoken rule for the nth time. If you could, you would go back in time and prevent whatever that incident was that made you catch feelings for him.
But WHEN did you break the rule? Was it when he beat up that group of boys who were disturbing you at the park? Or was it when the two of you had a snowball fight in the light snow and you fell atop of him, your lips a few centimetres away from his? No, it was when he stayed up all night on the phone with you when you were upset, right?
“[name]? You look pretty lost in your world.”
Oh, those ocean blue eyes that steal the thunder of the vibrant whirl of colours in the amusement park.
“Oh, no nothing. I…” Your eyes dart around, in search of an excuse to pluck out of thin air.
“You can tell me you’re nervous to ride the roller coaster,” he says as he gestures towards the sharp dip in the tracks and pats his arm, “My arm’s here for you.”
“As if I need it.”
He banters with you often, but sometimes you can’t help seeing a flirty glint in his eye.
(Spoiler, both of you were terrified on the ride and clung to each other.)
He whips out his phone from his pocket and you suppress a frown. Throughout this whole fake relationship, he often takes his phone out and frantically sends messages to someone. You tell yourself he’s sick of pretending to be in a relationship with you and lamenting about it to a friend. Maybe Zhongli?
But a nagging voice at the back of your head tells you he’s talking to a person he actually likes.
You suggest for him to take a photo in the queue, so he would have something to post at the end of the day (and take his attention from his phone).
Both of you head to lunch after a few rides and you see the eateries flooded with people. The thought of having to fight for seats, queue and pay for an over-priced meal dampened your spirit.
Childe leads you to a bench and urges you to take a seat on the bench when you stand up long enough in confusion. He pulls out two boxes of homemade food from his bag and passes you a box.
“You made this for me?”
Expecting an “I made too much for myself so I thought I would prepare some for you using the leftovers”, you looked away to open the box and begin eating.
But he gives a short affirmation that hangs awkwardly in the air. The chatters of other visitors and the screams of children fill the silence between the two of you. You do nothing to fill it (neither does he) and you refuse to make eye contact with him until he takes his phone out again.
After hours of running around the park and basking in his laughter, you tug Childe towards the ice cream stand. Childe lists off your favourite flavours before you could take your order. He shoots you a satisfying smile when he sees your expression, knowing he got the mark. You realise you don’t remember his favourite flavours and you feel a pang of guilt (but not that it’ll matter).
A family of three comes up to him, seeking his help for directions. He pores over the map with them and offers to guide them to the attraction. As he walks off, the elderly ice-cream lady teases you, “Is that your boyfriend?”
Was he? Technically he is, but technically he wasn’t.
You blurt out a ‘no’. She sighs and continues as she passes you two cones, “Ah, that’s a pity… There’s that slight sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you.”
Your mind blanks out. You utter a thank you and quickly take your leave.
You start on your ice cream first, but do not pay attention to the taste with the what-ifs that run through your mind.
Not long later, Childe jogs back to you. He wraps a hand around yours to take a curious lick at the top scoop (and you lock your screams in your heart). As he takes the ice cream from you, his eyebrows perk up. He puts the ice cream out towards you, offering you a bite.
You remind yourself that all these were only for show and you unknowingly clench your jaw. Everything that you’ve done would just be poorly captured by a photo and reduced to a tool on social media. Even your family has been duped into thinking he was such a charming young man who was head over heels for you. It’s all just for show, so why did he want to make you so immersed in this performance of his too?
You shake your head and walk off without a word.
“Can I have a bite of your scoop?”
You shake your head, your eyes fixated on the path in front of you.
Seeing the orange hue starting to seep into the sky, you look at your watch. You were so much closer to the end of the day.
“[name], are you okay?”
You hate how childish you were acting and you mustered up a smile. For the first (and the last) time, you take Childe’s hand of your own will and lead him to the event area.
“Let’s go get a good spot for the fireworks.”
~
“Are you not going to take a photo?”
“No. Let’s just… keep this moment between the two of us and not turn it into something that corroborates this stupid act.”
“[Name], what’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird since we got the ice cream and you’ve been looking at your watch a lot. Are you unwell?”
You shake your head, keeping your eyes trained on the sky. You’re scared he will decipher your thoughts and true emotions from your face.
“Look at me.”
You don’t budge and a hint of desperation creeps into his voice.
“You’re holding my hand really tightly, I’m worried. Look at me, please?”
He places a finger on the opposite side of your jaw and tilts your head towards him. While no one takes notice of the two of you, heat rushes into your face when Childe does this.
“Archons, stop looking elsewhere. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m sorry, I-”
The fireworks go off and you take your eyes away from Childe for a brief moment. When you turn back, you find him looking intently at you.
It could be the reflection from the fireworks, but you think you see sparks flicker in his eyes. The ice cream lady lied, it wasn’t just a slight sparkle. The words fall out of your mouth before you can catch yourself, “I want you to kiss me.”
You clamp your hand over your mouth and turn away from him. Your entire body screams at you to run and you do. You will never to look him in the eye ever again. Oh, he must be so horrified.
But a part of you wished you stood your ground and faced him, for him to reject you like how he rejected Aether. Then you’ll move on.
You only run a short distance before you stop. You do want him to reject you the way he rejected Aether, then you’ll move on like you planned.
Though there’s a whisper of hope in your mind that it was never one-sided.
Another wave of fireworks set off and you see a familiar silhouette on the ground, the running figure coming to a stop behind you.
You gather whatever dignity and courage you have left and abruptly turn to face him, to see the ocean blue eyes you adored so much look at you with raging desire.
“Are you sure? If I kiss you once, it’ll make me want a hundred more.”
Oh, so the sparks are real. You nod and he places his hands on your shoulder before closing in for a kiss. It was feather-light but you know he is reigning back his hunger, and you can’t help but think he’s liked you all this while (or possibly, even before that).
“I’ll give you a thousand more. On one condition.”
“Hm?”
“Date me. For real.”
“I’ve always wanted to.”
A thousand more is a deal sealed with one.
Extra:
“If you don’t mind me asking, who have you been texting?”
“Oh, jealous, are you?”
His tone of amusement still makes you jab his arm.
“It’s Aether.”
“What?”
He shows you his screen, which has Aether screeching in caps in a group chat with Zhongli. You can see his frustration at Childe for the terrible flirt he is for the past months, especially with Aether’s texts.
DID YOU REALLY JUST FALL ATOP OF HER AND PRETEND NOTHING HAPPENED??
OH, got ballsy today trying to protect her from other guys? You should have just confessed, it’s PAINFUL watching you.
YOU CAN’T EVEN CALL THAT A PICK-UP LINE. PLEASE NEVER TRY THAT AGAIN.
FINALLY!! CHILDE!! THE ONE GOOD THING YOU DID!! I’M GLAD MY SACRIFICE PAID OFF
It hits you that the plan has always been to get you to fall for him and you had played right into their plans.
But you don’t wish otherwise.
a/n: I know I said I'll only work on requests after my exams but I had an idea and I was too eager to start on it so I was doing it during my free time.
Hi anon! Thank you for requesting! I don't know if I've gotten kicked out of everyone's dashes but I hope you're seeing this and that you like this!
Taglist (open): @almondoufu @ohmykazuha @yeetmeoffjueyunkarst @icecappa @abyssheart @tsubaki3192 @geolatt3u @mikachuchu @kallmekoi
If I am not drowning in it, I have no desire for it.
pairing: knight geto suguru x disgraced noble fem!reader tags: historical au; arranged marriage; slow burn; misunderstanding; arguments; kinda enemies to lovers; angst; drama; fluff; smut; hurt/comfort; eventual happy ending; MDNI; warning: ANGST, implied attempted sa (not to the mc), homicide, corruption; physical assault; abandonment issues; 1.7k wc notes: when i say this fic is the bane of my existence, i mean it in every sense of the term :) the chapter title is from here. the fic title and summary are from this post. the header is from pinterest. jjk isn't mine! please comment on the fic masterpost, or send me an ask, to be added to the taglist!! :))
Your husband is a callous man.
Disgustingly so.
But, of course, if you ever say the same to anyone else, they'll be certain to return you a scowl—not that they don't give you one now, but they'll make it much worse then—for how can you speak such ill of your husband: the oh-so-gallant, oh-so-chivalrous knight Sir Geto Suguru!?
Well, the thing is... first off, none of those outraged voices know the man as well as you do.
Secondly, and more importantly, none of them are you.
Born as the eldest daughter of one of the most prominent nobles in the Empire, you had always been told there was a golden future lying in wait for you. Elegant, graceful, refined—you grew up to be the epitome of each of these adjectives and so many more meaning the same. Something your parents and teachers adored you for, your peers resented you for, the general populace looked up to you for.
Long story short, your life was nothing less than wonderful.
But, as is the way with this world, good things seldom last long—yours too didn't.
The wandering hand of a noble.
The terrified screams of your maid.
The said noble's head rolling on the floor.
The pristine white of your gloves drenched in bright red, the same shade dripping from the sharp blade of a sword; that too, one which had always been an idle wall decoration...
Were the noble any lesser person, you know nothing would have happened. You did a right thing, after all, saving a poor helpless girl from the maws of a vile beast.
But no, he wasn't a lesser person.
He was the Emperor's little brother. Lecherous, yes, of course, no one could negate this; but he was His Majesty's youngest brother, eighth in line to the throne, which is why you weren't even taken to trial. The blood on your hands hadn't even dried before every title you owned were snatched away from you, and you were reduced from being one of the most highly regarded young ladies amongst the nobles to being a convicted criminal—
'Attempted theft of a royal jewel.'
'Harrassment of a member of the royal staff when they attempted to stop her.'
'Murder of a member of the Royal Family when they attempted to detain her.'
The story was changed, and with it thus twisted and distorted until not one letter of it was true, you were indeed nothing more than a convicted criminal—
A burden your parents waited not even a day before they decided to get rid of, before they decided to bedeck it in finery of the highest kind and send it to the slaughterhouse under the pretence of your hand being promised to Zenin Naoya.
You ran away.
Of course, you ran away.
Only to be spotted by one of your family's old servants, not even ten miles away...
What happened next is preserved very poorly in your memory—you remember reading in a book once, how one's mind tries to erase things too traumatic for them—but you do recollect the sheer panic and the utter desperation you felt as you were all but dragged back to the manor, you would swallow your tongue before calling it your home again. Oh, and, of course, the clinking of the thousand gold coins as your father awarded them to the man for his loyalty whilst your cheeks stung from the force of your mother's fury.
The Zenin heir cancelled the engagement within the next hour, claiming he had no desire to marry a disobedient wretch like you. When you scoffed and told your mother that neither did you have a wish to wed a cur like him, she slapped you again, drawing blood this time.
Your parents were prepared to disown you.
And you knew. And no matter how much it hurt, you were prepared to be disowned by them, prepared to leave and set out on a new path on your own—which is when your dearest husband entered the stage of your life, and without further ado, set it on fire—
Sir Geto Suguru, the paragon of virtue, so very darling to the Empire.
The envoy of death, so very terrifying to the enemies of the Empire.
The catalyst of your doom, so very dashing as he stood before your parents, the coal black of his hair and his eyes scintillant in the sun as he greeted them with a bow and a courteous smile—its keen shape perhaps not too unbecoming the sharpness of his mien, you thought absently, still blissfully ignorant to what lay in your future, as you stood behind your mother—
It took Geto all but a moment to stand upright and ask your father for your hand in marriage.
It took your blood less than a moment to freeze in your arteries.
Were it before, you know your parents would've rejected such a proposal in a heartbeat; your world and the knight's were far too different, too far apart. But that day, utterly devastated, utterly helpless, you watched them both nearly sob in relief as your mother nodded and your father brought your intended into a hearty embrace.
The wedding took place a day later in an extremely private function.
Not even a month after which, Geto received his transfer orders to some remote town by the sea.
And giving you a set of barely-intelligible, insultingly-perfunctory reasons, more like 'excuses', as to why you couldn't accompany him; you're his wife, for goodness' sake; he dropped you off at your in-laws' in the countryside—people who hadn't even deigned to attend their only son's wedding—
You don't dislike them, though.
You dislike your husband.
The man who, by marrying you, has made himself an angel donning a mortal skin, a person too good for the likes of anyone and everyone; most certainly, much too good for you.
The man who, by leaving you barely thirty days into your conjugal life, has made you even viler in the eyes of others than you can ever imagine it to be possible, believe it should be possible.
The man who has visited his home, his wife, only a handful of times in the last one year, that too only for a handful of hours each time, never staying for more than one day and the next morning.
The man who doesn't care enough to reply to your letters, let alone send you any, only sending his father enough money to feed a village and a curt letter saying he's well on the third day of every month, the words devoid of even the smallest mention of the person he married and brought to his home—
If one says you hate Geto, you will simply nod in response and not breathe one word in disagreement, you think as you wrap the blanket tighter round your shivering form and stare at the waning crescent in the pitch-black sky.
It's lonely.
The moon is rather lonely, you reckon, a faint frown creeping onto your lips...
But definitely not as acutely, as painfully as you are—
After all, the moon hasn't been forsaken by its friends, parents and husband, has it?
The moon isn't forced to endure pitiful glances and scathing glares throughout the day, is it?
The moon need not spend night after night, either sleepless or seeing nightmares where it is abandoned in an entirely new way, tossed aside in an incomparably worse way by others—does it?
No.
You suppose not.
A pathetic little sigh escapes you as you force yourself to relax beneath the warm weight of the blanket, gaze soon drifting from the sky outside the window to your hands, to the pretty little diamond sitting on your left hand—only to stiffen when you hear a pair of feet pad into the kitchen—
"Do you have a fever?" A familiar voice rings out, so sleepy yet so worried, so kind—that too for you out of all the people the concern could be for—you can't help but become a touch misty-eyed.
It's your mother-in-law.
Sometimes, you think she's the only person you won't mind calling family.
The only person who, you don't think you're wrong when thinking, won't mind you calling them family.
Trying to hide a sniffle, you shake your head, lips shifting into a small smile on their own when you can finally discern her in the almost darkness, "Um, no. I'm totally fine, thank you."
"Alright," she doesn't press you any more, choosing to pour herself a glass of water instead. You look away from her, focus shuffling away to rest on the orange lights of the distant houses and huts against the blue backdrop of the night, when a quiet call of your name reaches you.
You turn back, only to find your mother-in-law wearing a knowing smile. She suddenly looks a lot older than you know she actually is—you wonder how your mother is faring—
Is she happy now that her shame of a daughter is away and no longer besmirching the spotless reputation of the family? Or, does she miss her first child, her 'sunshine', living so many miles away from her?
You know better than to ponder over such questions; yeah, you know you do.
"Yes, Mother?" you ask; the aftertaste of the last word not as sour as it used to be in the early days of your marriage, you register absently all the while wondering why her smile appears to grow when you call her thus, "Is—"
"I've raised Suguru to be brave and true-hearted," she says, and you cannot help the way your form grows rigid at the mere mention of his name—nor the burn settling behind your eyes nor how your throat clogs up, words dying far before they're fully formed when the remainder of the sentence clicks into place in your brain—"He will return to you, darling. I'm sure of it."
Hours from now, you will wonder why your mother-in-law is telling you all this.
You will wonder why she thinks your sleepless nights are because of her son, especially when you haven't breathed even a syllable of your distress to anyone; least of all, to her.
You will wonder why she sounds so sure while she's reassuring you of your husband's return.
Hours from now, you will tear your brain apart and put the pieces back together, in search for answers to these and so many more questions.
But now, in this moment, you don't think.
You screw your eyes shut and bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, trying your damnedest not to cry—until you decide you're much too wounded, too too weary to put up a good front—
And you cry, and you cry, and you cry.
general masterlist
— YOUR WORDS HURT
as the harsh words left his mouth, instant regret poured onto him as he sees the tears that started to form in your eyes.
diluc, childe, kaeya, zhongli
DILUC immediately regretted his words. he started saying apologies to you as he came to hug you but you pushed him away. he dare have the audacity? the tears rapidly flowed down your cheeks as you walked out on him. DILUC felt his heart shatter into a million pieces, he didn’t mean it. he really didn’t, so please, come back.
you had seen CHILDE angry and you had heard him yell, but it was never something that you had expected to fall victim to, especially not today. you have felt fear, but not like this. not where the fear comes from your own boyfriend. CHILDE had immediately relaxed his shoulders after realization had set in when seeing tears beginning to slide down your cheeks.
KAEYA froze (haha get it) when he saw your clearly hurt and offended expression which was accompanied by the tears which had threatened to fall. the tension in the air prevented you from moving, rather, it just left you there to wallow in your tears in front of him. KAEYA found it quite funny how he manages to lose the ones closest to him.
it was rare for ZHONGLI to ever raise his voice let alone at you, his dear beloved. the tone and volume of his words were enough to terify you. the whole area went quiet. out of shock, maybe. ZHONGLI was even shocked at himself. your tears felt warm as the feeling started to catch up with you. you wanted to run away from him, you couldn’t bare to see him, but you stayed frozen in place. both of you were unable to talk as the silence in the air was suffocating. ZHONGLI couldn’t find the words to speak and you were too scared and surprised to speak.
taglist... @darlingxannie , @cxlrose
contains ★ dan heng x gn!reader, fluff, jealous!reader, 0.4k wc. ノ requested for my milestone event. sorry it's a short drabble not a oneshot :( but i hope u enjoy it !!
event m.list ★ hsr m.list
"hey," dan heng calls for you, but you don’t respond. your back facing him, refusing to look his way.
“look at me.” he calls once more, still no response from you. for context, you’re very mad and jealous after seeing another random girl holding onto his arm so tightly and pulling him so close to her, a little too close for your liking.
you probably shouldn’t be this jealous because you know that dan heng belongs to you, and you belong to him. everyone around you knows that by now, but apparently some girls just don’t it, or pretend not to. and it makes you furious.
“please.. just listen to me.” he pleas, his voice coming off a bit shaky as he begs you to give him a chance to explain himself. since you instantly ran away before giving him the chance to say anything, so you think to yourself that you should at least listen to him first before you act upon your raging emotions.
you turn around and your eyes meet his deep, teal ones for the first time since the incident, and you can notice how his face lights up when you finally look at him.
“you’re finally looking at me.” dan heng sighs in relief as his hand finds a home onto your cheek. his thumb delicately brushes against your skin, and you can’t help but melt away in his touch. only he has this effect on you.
"you seemed to be having a good time with her back there.." you scorn as a disdained look makes its way onto your face.
"it was nothing like that," he begins to explain, his eyes fixed on you as if you're the only thing he sees. "i hated how she touched me as if we were familiar when we weren't."
dan heng pauses a little and takes your hand in his, gripping it tightly. while his other hand still softly caresses your cheek, his thumb strokes in soothing circles.
"i only love it when you touch me." he smiles ever so gently. your face begins to relax as the disdained look from earlier changes to a softer, flushed one.
"you're mine, dan heng." you state and dan heng looks at you as if you're stating the obvious.
"i know, i'm only yours." he murmurs in a soft spoken tone.
you release your hand from his tight grip and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. you feel his arms rest firmly around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he peppers the back of your ear and down your neck in feather kisses.
"i love you, so so much." you tenderly whisper against his ear.
taglist: @sylusdoll @hanaeriin @spkyssn @ayrastv @stunies @kalsplace
fluff for the sukuna fans bc i've been in a soft sukuna mood
ryomen sukuna x reader
Synopsis: sukuna isn't a stranger to arguments with you, but when he catches you crying after a particularly harsh one, he finds himself scrambling to fix it... in his own way
to sum it up: sukuna is an asshole but he loves you, so he tries his best
WC: 3,296
Warning(s): a lil angst
You knew exactly what you were getting into when you first started a relationship with the infamous king of curses, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less when his tendency to be an asshole hurt your feelings.
You know Sukuna isn’t a sentimental person who cares much for things like verbal reassurance, or consideration for the way the things he says can impact you, or anyone for that matter, but damn! Sometimes, he’s just too much of a jerk for you to handle, and Sukuna himself has no idea why your fragile human emotions sway you to be so affected by him. He doesn’t even think he’s said anything wrong the times in which you grow angry with him.
Now, Sukuna can handle your anger. Anger is good. Anger means that there is something he can react to, something he can tame or involve into your intimacies when he takes your mind off of silly arguments or subdues your attitude over what he deems to be small inconveniences. Anger is the only human emotion that he has felt himself in his many years of existence, so he knows what to expect. He understands it. He’s not, in the slightest, intimidated by it.
But what Sukuna finds he can not handle is the sound of your sniffles that resound from behind your door after you’ve just slammed it into his face. Sukuna angles his brows, pressing his ear to the door in confusion. Are you… cold? Coming down with a fever? What the hell are you sniffing your nose so much for?
Then he hears the meek gasps that intercept, the vocalization of pain that creeps into your weakened inhalations that accompany your damned sniffling. That’s when he realizes that you’re crying, and his pupils shrink slightly knowing that he has gone a little too far this time.
Hell, how is he supposed to handle you crying? He can’t fuck your sadness away like he can with your irritation. He can’t mirror your sadness, since he has no clue what the hell it’s supposed to feel like. He can’t empathize with it either, for he has no idea what he could have done to bring tears to your eyes and empathy, well, it’s not in his vocabulary to begin with. It’s pathetic, he thinks, the way you have allowed him to bother you this much…
Yet it kills him to know that he’s the reason behind your tears.
He stands there for some time, unsure of what to do. Should he get Uraume to handle this? No, that may make things worse. You may want to be alone.
He turns to leave, but something stops him. He feels an ache in his chest, pressing his hand to his bicep. What the hell? What is this feeling?
He can still hear you crying, and somehow, it sounds like it’s getting worse, louder, or perhaps that is all in his head. He can no longer tell, but that sound you’re making is the only thing occupying his mind, and it’s ruining him. It’s making his chest tighten, his brow furrow, his lips press together tightly. He should leave, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to abandon you like this.
Never once in his life has Sukuna felt remorse. Not even for all the times he has made you angry in the past when you two have had arguments. He is so quick to blame your reactions to things on your feeble human emotions. He is so quick to evade responsibility, or more so, refrain from guilting himself over the things he is responsible for. He is so quick to dismiss you, but it’s always fine because he has never witnessed you grow sad over his behavior, not until now.
Sukuna turns back to your door slowly. His hand flies to grab the handle to throw the door open, but he hesitates. He’s unsure of what’s happening to him, for he’s never hesitated before in his life. This, you crying, him second guessing himself, it’s all so new and he hates it. He needs to fix this immediately.
What do you humans like when you are upset? There’s a word that’s slipping his mind, one he always hears you pester him for but turns down repeatedly. He had found the concept so irrelevant that he hadn’t even bothered to recall what it’s called.
He crosses his arms and stares ahead harshly in thought, then it comes to him. An apology! Yes, that’s what it is. But of course, you can’t expect him to verbalize such a thing. You must want something as a gift. A physical representation of his desire not to see you cry. He rushes off to locate Uraume for preparations.
About an hour later, you’re curled up on your bed and facing the wall with a blank stare. Your tears stopped a while ago, and since you hadn’t heard from Sukuna, you assumed he just didn’t care about your feelings. Like always.
“Oi,” a gruff voice through the door startles you. You jump and turn over, curling your brows in confusion at the sound of Sukuna’s voice. For a moment, you don’t believe he is speaking to you, so you wait some time to see if he will speak again. “I know you can hear me in there,” his voice sounds again, and you groan.
“Go away,” you tell him, flipping back over.
Sukuna, on the other side of the wall, clicks his tongue in agitation. “Quit your pouting and come open this door.”
“No. Until you learn how to treat me better, I don’t want to see you.”
Treat you better? Sukuna doesn’t understand this nonsense. You live in his large estate, you’re pampered by servants, showered with gifts and homemade meals, you sleep by his side every night, and he allows you to disrespect him far more often than he should. Not to mention, he has his arms full of presents at this very moment that are preventing him from opening the door himself. How can he possibly treat you any better than he’s already treating you?
He growls lowly and closes his eyes in irritation. “If you open the door, your mood will improve.”
“I don’t want anything other than what I just said.”
Sukuna’s eye twitches. Why are you so damn difficult? “What is your-”
“Go. Away.”
Oh. Alright, then.
You sit up abruptly when Sukuna’s foot breaks in the door with a loud crash. You stare with wide eyes, the door, now off its hinge, creaking open weakly to reveal the king of curses with his arms full of several bouquets of flowers.
“What the fuck, Sukuna?!” you cry. He only stares frustratedly as he walks into the space univinted.
“This was going to go on for too long if I hadn’t done something,” he says, approaching the side of your bed.
“You can’t just- fuck! What is wrong with you?”
Okay… this is already going poorly.
This is not the reaction he had desired from you, and perhaps he should have revisited the idea of kicking in the door, but he had been growing impatient. Despite his big talk, he doesn’t like when you speak to him in such a cold way. He doesn’t like being separated from you. He doesn’t like not being able to see your face, and after all the work he has just done to collect these plants for you, he can not tolerate being turned away.
“Must you be so dramatic?” he tsks. “Do you not see what I have brought to you? Don’t you humans like these things?”
You stare at him incredulously, mouth agape. Sukuna can see the tear stains clear on your face, and his heart clenches again. God, why is that sight so abominable?
He holds his arms out, presenting the flowers to you as if you could have possibly missed them. “They are yours. Take them and be done with this.”
“Be done with what, Sukuna?” you shake your head, face scrunched.
“With your tantrum- your tears, and the sniffles. Be done with them now. Here.”
You scoff. “Do you even know why you're giving these to me?”
Sukuna raises a brow. “To cease your tantrum. As I just said.”
“I can’t with you sometimes, Sukuna. Honestly.”
“This is really the thanks that I get for bringing you these damn flowers? I thought you were supposed to like things like this. Why would you make me waste my time?”
“If you think it’s a fucking waste of time to bring me flowers, then there’s your problem right there,” you raise your voice, pointing at him accusingly. Sukuna’s face hardens. He thinks you’re getting angry again, but he can still see the sadness behind your eyes. You look almost… defeated. “And if you knew me at all, you’d know that I never cared about any of that stuff. I never cared about the flashiness or the gifts or whatever the fuck.”
Sukuna lowers his hands, letting the bouquets drop carelessly to the floor. “Now you are accusing me of not knowing you?” he seethes. “I’m not sure when you decided that it was acceptable for you to speak to me this way, but I will not tolerate it. I do nothing but dote on you, you ungrateful brat.”
“Yeah, sure, you dote on me, and then you turn around and berate me and call everything I feel stupid because you don’t care to even try to understand why some of the things you say are not okay!”
Sukuna walks closer to invade your personal space, leaning in to glare angrily at you as you do the same. This is what he knows. This is what he chooses to respond to. Not the curl in your brow, not the tremble of your lips, not the unsteadiness of your voice, but your anger. “Why should I care if all you do is whine,” he grumbles.
You clamp your mouth shut as a lump forms in your throat. Sukuna watches you unravel before him, and while he tries to keep an unmoved expression, he is internally panicking when he sees your eyes gloss over again and your nose flare.
Shit. He’s supposed to be making you feel better. How has he gone and made things worse again? Why is he incapable of understanding how to be what you want him to be?
You take in a trembling inhale as your hands clench and unclench at your sides. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to call you weak, but you can’t help the tear that breaks past your lashes and dashes down your cheek, a physical display of your heartache.
Sukuna’s crimson eyes fly to the tear, and his brows smooth out against his intent.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
You’re crying again, and it’s his fault. It’s always been his fault. What is this now that he’s feeling? Regret? Shame? Is that what is clawing at his chest and stripping him of his resolve? Making him wish to replay this entire interaction so that you do not appear before him with tears in your eyes once more? Is this what it is to fall?
You rub angrily at your eyes and huff, turning away from him and plopping back down on your bed, back facing him. You shut yourself away, close yourself off, and deprive Sukuna of your pretty face for the second time today. “Just leave me alone. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t give a fuck about me or anything, for that matter.”
Sukuna’s eyes widen slightly with the deepening of his frown. That ache he has felt in his chest spreads throughout his body, serving as tension in his back, head, and shoulders. You think he doesn’t care for you? What nonsense. You’re the only being on this planet who has made a millennia of existence worth living, and you think he doesn’t care?
Sukuna can not even pin the blame onto you this time around. He can not accuse you of overreacting, nor can he evade such a thing that is so clearly his doing. He has made you feel uncared for, and while his temper may get out of hand, and his inability to fully comprehend the plagues of the human mind gets in the way, and he never tells you that he loves you, making you feel unloved is the last thing he ever meant to do.
“Hey,” he mumbles, but you do not move. You cling to yourself for comfort because you do not believe he can provide any for you. “Brat-” he starts, but rethinks. He reaches his hand out to you. “(Y/n). Enough of this.”
“I don’t want to see you right now, Sukuna. Can’t you respect at least that for once?” you croak.
His hand freezes and he lets it fall. Respect. Understanding. That is what you want from him, and he has not been giving it to you. He has not been giving you anything that you request of him emotionally, for that matter. He has been neglecting your mental needs whilst overpowering you with the physical, and it’s drawn you away from him.
He could force you to get up. He could drag you by your hair to his bedroom. He could make you look him in the eye, make you stay with him, make you stay silent about this from this point on and forever more. Sukuna has the power and the authority to do so…
But the idea is not appealing. Not in the slightest.
Sukuna wants you happy. He wants you to want to be with him willingly, and if he ignores your consent now of all times, it would be like throwing away the life he has built with you. Throwing away your desires, and Sukuna does not long for a world in which you are any more uncomfortable than you already are.
He takes a step back, looking over the flowers that he has dropped, and accepts the will of the mortal he fell in love with.
“I will be in my chambers if or whenever you wish to see me,” he says lowly, giving in. He moves to leave but stops himself once more. He never had stopped himself this much before. “...I apologize for making you cry. I will send someone to fix your door immediately.”
Sukuna is well on his way when he hears you shuffling behind him. He turns, admittedly hopeful for your reaction, and finds you peeking in confusion over your shoulder. “...What did you just say?” you whisper.
The king of curses stalls, looking directly into your eyes from across the room. He feels suddenly… weak. Vulnerable. For the first time, he has relented his power for you to take hold of, and it feels strange to say the very least. “Do you wish for me to repeat myself?”
You sit up slowly, turning around. You knuckle at your red nose, watching him suspiciously. “I do. I may have misheard you.”
He studies you for a moment until he realizes that you are being facetious. “You heard me the first time.”
“Maybe I just want you to say it again.”
Sukuna sighs heavily. “I did not intend to make you cry, nor did I intend to make you feel as though I do not care for you. That is a foolish thought, but I understand I do not convey the depth of my feelings for you the way you wish me to convey it.”
You look dumbfounded as you stare at him in silence. Sukuna clicks his tongue, unsure of how you are going to respond.
“Quit staring at me and say something, woman.”
“I just… never thought…” you trail off, swallowing harshly. “I never thought you would ever say something like that to me.”
“You will only hear me say such things when you are- when I’ve made you unhappy,” he clarifies firmly. Your nose twitches, an involuntary movement that Sukuna catches and finds entirely too adorable. Your eyes are still damp, but your breathing has evened out.
“That’s the first,” you quip.
“Enough.”
You press your lips together, glancing at the flowers Sukuna brought you. Just then, you notice that they are your favorite.
You tell yourself you knew what you were getting into when you first started dating the king of curses, but at times you forget that Sukuna is in fact a demon, and a king at that. He does not believe in any better than what he is.
“You hurt my feelings, Sukuna,” you say softly. “Don’t you get what that means? At least for me?”
“No,” he responds honestly. “But I do see now that you have different needs. And I understand that I refuse to watch you cry if there is something I can do about it.”
You try to remain angry with him. You try to keep yourself distanced, but you can not help the way that you are softening, and Sukuna notices. A hint of a smirk curves at the corner of his lips.
“Is that all I had to say to make this better?”
“Shut the hell up,” you hiss. “It wouldn’t have killed you to apologize for the hundreds of other times we’ve fought, you know.”
“You weren’t crying the other times, woman.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you roll your eyes.
Sukuna tilts his head, placing a hand on his hip. “You’re not still upset, are you?”
“Yes,” you pout, and he catches on.
“What is it you want now, to be pampered like a spoiled brat?”
He makes the suggestion as if to offend you, but the two of you both know that he is hardly making a joke. “What I want is for you to fuck off.”
A chuckle rumbles in Sukuna’s throat as he makes his way over to you. You immediately break and screech when he yanks you forward by your ankle and loops you up into his arms before sitting down on your bed and setting you in his lap.
He looks you dead in the eye and lifts a rough thumb, swiping stubbornly at your tear stains and your damp lashes. “Crybaby,” he mutters, and you swat his hand away.
“Whatever, asshole.” You push at his chest with weak contempt and he looks at you boredly.
“You’re pitiful,” he grumbles, gripping your chin securely and guiding it to him. His blood red eyes seep into yours, gazing intently. “No more tears, do you understand?”
“Then don’t make me sad.”
“I won’t,” he tells you confidently.
A smile twitches on your lips as you look over him, completely unfamiliar with this side of the king of curses. “Can you do one more thing for me, and then I’ll maybe think about forgiving you?” you bite your lip, pressing your finger to his broad shoulder.
Sukuna grunts. “More demands, huh? I suppose you know how to take advantage of a situation. What more do you want?”
You wrap your arms over his neck. “Tell me how much you care about me,” you sing.
“Did I not just do so?”
“No, I want you to spell it out. Tell me you love me.”
“I highly tolerate you.”
“Tell me you loveeee me.”
“You are the only human being I do not frown upon.”
“Sukuna.”
“Christ, woman, you’re mine. Isn’t that enough?” he grits his teeth and you snort, patting his cheek gently.
“For now.”
“Such a pest, you know that?” he mumbles, pushing in swiftly to press his lips firmly to yours in a swift peck. “Don’t ever say I don’t care for you again. It is the most false and offensive thing I have ever heard."
smol confused boi wip.
feat: random bf texts from touya <3
warnings / cache notes: language, suggestive in some, crude humor, kms jokes, might be a bit ooc but like i've said before i do nawwwt care
req📌: ✔️ birthday present to myself <3 surprise i leaked our texts this is actually how he is you didn't hear it from me
m.list
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