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Sukuna is secretly a sap for soft domestic moments with you. Even if you can never get him to admit it, he doesn’t hide it as well as he thinks he does. 

He’ll never admit how cozy he feels lying on the couch with you as you read a book. The crackling fire is a soothing lullaby as the time passes, a warm and fuzzy heart beating in his chest as he gazes down at you in his lap. Your eyes wide with anticipation, impatient finger tapping the edge of the book, until you’re finally able to turn the page again, just as enthralled with this page as the last. He’ll never understand your love for reading, but he won’t complain when it’s essentially a free pass to hold you all throughout the night. 

He’ll never admit how much he loves it when you ask him for help—in any scenario really—but especially the little domestic things people don’t often think of. Asking him to reach a dish up high, to unscrew the lid of a jar that’s too tight, to grab you a towel when you forgot to bring one to the bath, to help you find your phone charger that you’ve lost for the millionth time that week.  The pout on your lips and the almost timid way you ask makes his heart flutter in his chest, he feels a swell of pride knowing he’s the one you come to for help. Sure, he’ll grumble and huff and roll his eyes, but as soon as his back is turned to you his face burns a bright crimson red at the butterflies in his belly.

He’ll never admit the warm feeling in his chest when you come home from work exhausted and grumpy, just to kick your shoes off and silently curl up in his arms on the couch. No words are needed, he knows you just want to be held, and he’s more than happy to deliver. His hands offer you comfort, one stroking your back, while the other brushes through your hair. He’ll give you soft kisses to your temple, lingering for as long as he can between each one, savoring the moment. If you’re lucky, he’ll hum a soft tune, his chest rumbling against yours, lulling you to sleep. Being your safe space is an irreplaceable feeling, one he wouldn’t trade for the world. 

He’ll never admit the amount of fun he has decorating your shared home for holidays and events. The way your face lights up at the cute new decor you found at the store, asking him where he thinks the best place to put it would be. He’ll give you a shrug and an, “I don’t care,” but his eyes will point over to the empty space on one of the shelves of a cabinet you had yet to fill. Using a step stool to hang up lights or banners has him chuckling and teasing you, knowing damn well he could help you do it without the cursed contraption. He just thinks it’s cute that even with the step stool you have to stand on the tips of your toes to reach where you need to be.

He’ll never admit the peace he feels as he does basic chores with you, like doing laundry, washing the dishes, tidying your living space, making the bed, etcetera. He acts like it’s the end of the world, whining and complaining the whole time, but he’ll do most of the work anyways, without being asked to. He just wants to be in your presence. Something warm erupts in his belly when he notices you eyeing him from the kitchen counter while he scrubs a cup with a soapy sponge. He’ll tsk and ask, “What’re you lookin’ at?” and when you reply in a loving tone, “You,” his saliva gets stuck in his throat, damn near choking him. 

Sukuna isn’t a soft or even a kind person, but something in him feels different whenever you’re around. He feels almost normal, like he’s being seen as an individual with his own likes and interests, and not just the king of curses. In all his years he’s never met someone who makes him feel as at home and as safe as you do. The emotions that stir in his heart whenever you speak, whenever you look at him, hell, whenever you breathe; they’re unlike anything he’s ever felt before. 

It’s a soft, gentle, and domestic kind of love, one that can’t be easily replaced or replicated. One that runs deeper than flesh and blood, deeper than even the soul can reach. He would give anything to continue to have days like these with you, forever until the end of time.

He knows he’s in deep, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. But he will never admit that.

wc: ~800

i cannot get this man out of my head, help me.