fluff, crack
Synopsis: that time you were babysitting your niece when sukuna came home...
to sum it up: sukuna is such a dad but doesn't know it yet
WC: 1,218
Warning(s): none
“What the fuck is that?”
You look up to see Sukuna standing in the doorway, a twisted snarl on his face as he glares harshly at the object within your grasp. You raise your brows, momentarily surprised by his arrival, and give him a soft smile.
“Hi, Kuna,” you greet happily, ignoring his question. “I didn’t know you were gonna be back so soon.”
“Answer my question, woman,” he growls, looking almost disgusted by the sight before him. “What is that?”
He points one of his burly arms to you, and you look down at the cooing seven-month-old in your embrace, bouncing up on your knee as you sit on the floor just before Sukuna’s large bed. The baby gargles, hand stuffed into her mouth as drool dribbles down her fist, a thoughtless smile rising onto her small lips.
“She’s my niece,” you tell him, smoothing your thumb lovingly over the baby’s shirt, inspiring a small giggle and a senseless babble. You smile. “Isn’t she so cute?”
“It’s vile,” Sukuna grimaces and you frown. “Why is that beast in my temple?”
“Sukuna, be nice,” you roll your eyes. “She’s just a baby, and my sister needed some help looking after her for a few hours.”
“And you felt prompted to bring it here?” he scrunches his nose.
“Her, and where else would I be?”
“As long as you’re carrying that creature, you must be anywhere else but here,” he grumbles, turning dismissively to leave the room. “I want it gone.”
“What?!” you exclaim, moving to stand with the baby resting on your hip. You walk over to your boyfriend, touching your soft hand to his large back to keep him from leaving. Sukuna peers over his shoulder angrily, four eyes squinting down at the two of you. “Come on, Sukuna! At least admit how adorable she is. Look at this precious little face.”
You squish gently at the baby’s cheeks and her fist falls from her mouth, big round eyes scrunching as a giddy beam rises to her rosy cheeks. All Sukuna can see, however, is the slobber shining over her chin and on her hand. “I do not understand what you are requesting of me,” he says coldly, eying the child as though she carries the plague. “Is it incapable of keeping its saliva inside of its mouth?”
“She’s teething,” you say flatly.
“What?”
“Her teeth are coming in soon, it stimulates drooling.”
Sukuna’s face of disgust grows more exaggerated, leaning his head back with curled lips. “Like an animal?”
Your face drops as you stare at him boredly. “Yes, Sukuna. Like an animal. All humans did it at one point.”
“Do you mean to inform me that you engaged in such a disgusting act when you were in this stage of life?”
“...Yes?”
He clicks his tongue, now eying you with an air of suspicion. “Good to know,” he says rather judgmentally.
The thought crosses your mind to point at that your boyfriend was at some point a human too, but you decide against it.
“Sukuna,” you groan. “Aside from the drool, she’s such a precious little thing. You have to agree, right?” you coo. You look down at the baby to grin childishly at her, tucking your finger under her chin and tapping her slightly, hardly tickling at her body but arising a few more giggles nonetheless. You babble meaningless sounds, speaking to her in a playful voice that Sukuna has never heard from you before.
Though still thoroughly confounded as to why you want him to take interest in this little animal, his eyes catch the way you soften for the child, how your eyes light and a sense of maternity takes you as you speak to the baby as though you know just what to say, drawing out toothless grins and thrilled gibberish. His brow twitches involuntarily, something within him almost enjoying the sight before him. You’re so good with this creature. Have you always been like this?
“What language are you speaking with it?” he suddenly asks gruffly, causing you to pause and look up at him as your niece reaches her small hands up to your cheek.
“With her,” you correct again. “And I’m not speaking any language, I’m just playing around,” you chuckle slightly. Sukuna stares harshly now, examining the movements of the half developed human in your arms as she curiously taps against your face.
Suddenly catching wind of his presence, the baby’s head turns to him and her eyes grow bigger. She cries out excitedly, reaching her arms out to Sukuna with grasping tiny fingers. Sukuna falters, confused.
“What is she doing?” he asks urgently, and you laugh.
“She wants you to hold her,” you say softly.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Kuna,” you pout. “Please? Just for two seconds.”
“I said no, you brat.”
“Pleaseeeee? Pretty pretty please, my king?”
You give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster, and when he looks between the two of you, your expressions almost match. Sukuna feels something in his resolve crumble, incapable of truly denying you though he tries his best to still appear as though you give him a hard time.
With an agitated sigh, he reaches his upper set of arms to grab the child as you lift her up and hand her to him. “Two seconds,” he growls and your eyes sparkle with anticipation.
He holds the baby up before him, watching as her little feet dangle and kick around in her onesie as he grasps her from under her arms. His hands practically consume her entire frame, her fingers still reaching out to him curiously, joyfully.
The king of curses continues to glare, brow cocked while he tries to decide what is so special about it. Perhaps he can understand what you find to be “cute.” The baby’s got big chubby cheeks and huge doe eyes that almost remind him of you, and she’s so comically tiny it makes him want to laugh.
He grunts softly as he pulls the baby in closer, complying with her unspoken request displayed by her constant reaching. She touches her little slobber-less hand on his forehead, touching softly at the plate structure on the right side of his face. Sukuna imagined himself to be a bit more perturbed by the contact, but finds himself unbothered, allowing the child to trace his features with innocent exploration.
You watch with your hands to your mouth, hiding your bright smile. The sight before you is just so adorable, you wish you could take a picture but you know that Sukuna would be quick to crush your phone in an instant if he caught you.
Sukuna finally pulls the child away, watching her grin happily. He hands her back to you and crosses his arms. “What is her purpose?” he questions, and you give him a strange look, adjusting the baby back on your hip as she plays with your hair.
“She has no purpose. She’s a baby.”
“She is too young to work? To serve?”
“Wh- yes?!”
“Very well,” he nods. “She may stay for another hour.”
“...But my sister isn’t free for another two hours.”
“Two hours, and if she isn’t gone by then, tell her in her native tongue that I will be eating her fingers for dinner.”
I miss you. You, the love I never had.
—Seouldsoul2kpop
Reflections in a winter lake oil on canvas, 100 × 90 cm Gustaf Fjæstad
chanyeol + his middle part hairstyle
Jujutsu Kaisen
@kadeart
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credits: [panel one photo] [icons] [jjk icons: x, x, x]
“Aww, so pretty~ Are you sure you’re a doberman? It’s not that you’re a chihuahua who just got big?” — Bell & Jongin, a real love story ♡ ‘The Devil wears Jungnam’, S2 E3.
summary: you see him a handful of times down by the river, washing off the bloodstains from his clothing and hands. you wonder to yourself how he could look so human in such a monstrous act. once he sees you he can’t get you rid of his mind.
paring: sukuna x f!reader
genre: angst, soft love, little bits of fluff, angst with no happy ending
warnings: blood, gruesome death, talks of sex and taking virginity, character death
word count: 7k+
jjk masterlist
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“Do you intend on staring the entire time?”
The hair on your neck rose, your breath catching in your throat as you hear him call out.
Surely he couldn’t have seen you. You had tried to hide decently well into the background of the forest.
“Your act of concealment is rather pitiful, you know.” His voice disparaged you once more, and from the sliver of opening the bushes allowed you saw him look over his shoulder, staring directly at you as he raised an eyebrow.
“Come out, human.” You, for the first time, hear the real command in his voice, the one that terrified the men in your village, the ones who came back from battle and laid awake at night with it echoing in the solitude of their minds.
You gave it a couple seconds, and when you saw him vanish from the spot he had been near the river bank you panicked, looking around everywhere to see where he had gone.
You felt a rush of air wisp behind you, and you whipped your head around to see a large hand circle around your throat, long, claw-like nails digging into your skin as he effortlessly raised you from the ground.
You felt the voice in your head mock you for your stupidity, the idea alone of spying on the curse everybody feared an idiotic idea. But you were curious, too curious for your own good, and the first time you saw him you were fascinated.
Here he seemed like the monster everybody made him out to be. Blood from his previous victims splattered across his face, red eyes boring into yours as he assessed the person in front of him, large muscles flexing as he turned you around, gawking at you like an animal in a cage.
But the first time you saw him, he drew you in, and perhaps that would be the sole reason for your demise. The sun shone shined splendidly that day, reflecting off the water beneath him, his skin shining bright as he delicately cleaned his dirtied clothes in peace.
You hadn’t meant to run into him that day, but you couldn’t rest seeing him act so human, so normally, after every rumor, you had heard.
You now wish you had listened to them.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” He cocked his head to the side, eyebrow perched as you meekly grabbed at his hand, begging him to loosen his grip.
His eyes trailed down to your gaping mouth, eyes widening with the lack of air, and his grip loosed, dropping you roughly to the ground, giving you a couple of seconds to failingly come up on your arms, coughing as you rubbed weakly at your neck, trying to ease to soreness away.
He dropped down to his knees, crouching down at your side as he waited for you to recover, in no rush as you hacked away.
“I asked you a question.” He reminded you and you fearfully looked up, eyes filled with tears as you weakly nodded, your chapped lips trembling in dread.
“Is that a yes?” His lips upturned in a small and taunting smile, his sharpened teeth gleaming back at you as you gulped, clearing your throat as you tried your best to respond.
“Yes, yes,” You looked at the grass beneath you, anything but the figure of death in front of you, “I have been here before, my lord.“
He kept his eyes locked on yours, his look never shifting from one to the other, keeping natural as if to frighten you even more.
Would anybody care if you had been killed out in the woods today? Would anybody come looking if you went missing?
"Is it you who’s been watching me these past weeks?” He asked, and even on the ground sitting in front of you he shadowed your crumpled form, and you wiped some of the slobber from your lips before you spoke again.
“I apologize, my lord.” Your fingers shook far too much, could he tell? Could he see that your blood was freezing under your skin?
“May I ask what’s intrigued you so much to return?” You feel this breath on your cheeks, his nose close to yours as he leaned in, the air in your lungs seizing as you held it all to yourself.
Your fingers itched to grab the small bundle you had brought with you, the one you had failed to give these past weeks.
He watched the movement, his eyes quickly darting over to the small package concealed in a piece of dirtied cloth.
“Is this yours?” He reached over and grabbed it, examining its shabby shape as you meekly nodded once more, your mouth too dry to give him a proper response.
He glanced back over to you, truly studying you. Your clothes were dirty, mud and dirt clinging to your skin, holes littering the soles of your shoes. Your hair was clumped together and nails were outgrown from their beds.
He had been familiarized with the nearby village, having ransacked it multiple times. He knew the women well, their appearances were far more important than anything else. If you were from there it was obvious you were one of their outcasts, if the skin clinging to your bones would say anything.
He kept an eye on you as you coughed again, blood specking the palm of your hand as you wiped it on your pants, embarrassed and more honestly terrified to look at him, opting to gape at the ground.
He turned the lump of fabric around in his hand, weighing it and sniffing it as if to sense what was inside. A foul smell flew under his nose, and he winced as he quickly went to open it, his inquisitiveness taking over.
The fabric was flimsy and wasn’t tied hard enough, falling away as he peeled it back.
Small tomatoes and pieces of lettuce tumbled out, some parts of them molded as they fell to his feet.
“I apologize, my lord, they are not of the best quality.” You explained and he scoffed, taking the small vegetables and squishing it between his fingers, turning back to you as he took you by the collar, lifting it up so that you would be face to face with him.
“Were those for me?” His head tilted again, a small pout overtaking his smile as he watched you struggle to come up with words to say.
“Have you been watching me these past few weeks just to give me rotten vegetables?”
He watched in clear amusement as you sniffled, your eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, hands quivering as you kept them balled by your side.
“Did that really sound like a good idea to you?” His grip on your collar tightened, and you gasp as he lifted you once more, your feet dangling as you tried to get back down.
Sukuna looked at you, the tears welling in your eyes, the tomatoes, and lettuce as his feet looking back up at him as he strangled you, your fingers weakling attempting to grab at his clenching fists.
“I’m s-sorry,” You choked out, “It’s all I h-had.” Some bloodied spit landed on his face and he grimaced, dropping you immediately to wipe it off.
You couldn’t muster up a groan as you felt your ankle crack from the pressure, only having enough strength to try to crawl away.
This isn’t how you wanted to die, not alone and at the hands of the curse of death himself. Not when you wanted to see the countryside, to sail in those things they called ships. Not on the ground of a forest, you stumbled upon one day, your kind heart killing you eventually.
And all Sukuna did was watch the pitiful scene, eyebrows drawing together as he saw your crumpled form sit at the stump of a tree, your ankle bent the wrong way, your eyes barely open as you went in and out of consciences.
Who were you? Surely not a girl of any importance. He would have already bedded you had you been one. You were poor, perhaps worse than that, yet you managed to bring him portions of your food.
Even in the coldest of winters, he had watched the village chief struggle to give up a third of his meals to honor him, yet an insignificant girl like you who obviously needed the wasted vegetables more than anything was offering it to him.
Should he kill you here? Make it painless? It seemed that your health was already declining, your bloody coughs enough proof for him. He’d be putting you out of your misery if he did it now.
But walking towards you, his nails turned into the claws he was so used to, kneeling down once more to your slumped form, he couldn’t seem to do it.
You couldn’t even lift your head to beg for your life, but you tried to bring up your fist that paled in size to his, curling it around one of his fingers as you tried to push him away.
And his nails were right there, right at the base of your throat, ready to slit, but he felt the little bit of heat as you sickly gripped him, the little tear droplets wetting his skin as he retracted his hand.
He stared at the top of your head, watching as your hand fell to your side, your body too weak to keep it up anymore.
And he grumbled to himself, saying things such that he wasn’t fucking enough people and his mind was going crazy, cupping your knees as he lifted you gently up, supporting your head with the palm of his hand as he brought you back to the village.
He could have killed you even then as he was entering the gates, but you had held onto his shirt so tightly that he could barely lift his finger to do such a thing.
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