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love & company - r. sukuna


❦ biker!ryomen sukuna x biker!f!reader [non-curse au]
❦ oneshot
❝ you're beginning to lose hope of ever fixing your bike as the moon rises over the horizon when a man built like a brick wall and covered in tattoos stops to help you out. he's standoffish and his words are cold - but as it turns out the version of him you see is soft. who knew this man could ever become your best friend, let alone something more? ❞
❦ cw ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. friends to lovers. fluff. hurt/comfort. p in v. fingering. oral (f! and m! receiving). degradation (slut). choking. pet names (princess, brat, woman, girl). size kink. rough sex. unprotected. biting. hair pulling. manhandling. toxic relationship (not sukuna). manipulation (not sukuna). reckless driving. use of alcohol and cigarettes. reader is implied to be short/small mostly in comparison to sukuna but he's huge so. ooc warning for sukuna given that this is modern and i want him to be more realistically human. i probably got some of the bike information wrong.
❦ words ; 24.2k.
main masterlist || love & company masterlist
A cool evening wind chills your skin as you hunch over your bike on the side of the road. You’re thankful for your thick leather jacket to protect you from the brisk winds, but it doesn’t make it easy to work when your thoughts continue to stray to the fast-approaching night.
Your Kawasaki motorcycle puttered to a stop an hour ago and you’ve been on the side of the road ever since. Of course it would happen today of all days, where your patience runs thin and you want nothing more than to be curled up in bed.
Your small array of tools that you keep for times like these are finally proving useful, but you can hardly bring yourself to care as you run out of things to check. You’re almost certain the issue is a clogged fuel line at this point but without the necessary tools to check, you’re fresh out of ideas on what to do aside from calling a tow truck.
The sound of another passing motorbike is grating on your ears as someone speeds by on a bright red Ducati and you want to curse them out just for having a working bike, but to your surprise, they circle back a minute later and pull up next to you.
A broad-shouldered figure steps off the bike, pulling a dark helmet off and giving his head a shake, running a hand through his pink hair to give it a naturally windswept look. Tattoos line his sharp jaw and scars litter his right eye. Deep near-crimson eyes lock on you, a mildly cold expression spread over the tall man’s features. He’s just about the textbook definition of what you would think of as a ‘bad boy’.
He looks you over before taking in the state of your bike. The sight of you covered in grease and oil sitting in defeat on the ground is amusing to him to say the least- you don’t much look the part of a biker between your small figure and approachable stature but one look at your bike and attire tells him not to judge a book by its cover.
“Need a hand?”
Unfortunately for the tattooed man, he’s caught you in a bad mood.
“No,” you grumble, picking up your wrench and dipping back into a rhythm of checking everything.
“I’ve got more tools than just a wrench,” he offers. Your intense gaze looks him over again, surveying the black leather hanging off his shoulders and red helmet that matches his bike tucked under his elbow.
“I can handle myself,” you insist, not keen on accepting a stranger’s help, especially given his cold expression.
“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” he retorts with a click of his tongue. “Just askin’ if you want a spanner or pliers.” His eyes flicker to the moon rising in the sky. “Or a flashlight.”
You follow his gaze out to the rising moon, its light not offering enough of a look at your bike to be all that helpful as night begins to fall.
You sigh, wiping perspiration from your forehead with the back of your hand. The man’s lips quirk upwards in a minute smirk at the sight of the grease you accidentally wipe on your head. He thinks it’s cute.
“A spanner would be helpful,” you give in, pulling a pair of pliers from where you’d set them down beneath your knee to show you did at least have a couple of tools handy.
Pulling his hands from his pockets, the tall man turns to the backpack he’d set on the ground behind him. He sets his helmet on the seat of his bike and pulls out a spanner, handing it to you in place of the torque wrench you’ve set at your side.
He’s silent as you thank him and begin adjusting the spanner’s size to detach the fuel line. Standing in silence, he does little more than watch given that you don’t seem to want his help.
When the fuel line finally detaches, you groan as you realize you’d been right about the problem the entire time and the line is blocked. Without an air compressor, there isn’t much you can do to get your bike running again and your shoulders slump in defeat.
“Now d’you need a hand?” He asks with a raised brow and a small smirk.
The look you shoot him is fiery and he’d be a liar to say he doesn’t think your attitude is cute. It suits the strange vibes he gets from you in the best of ways.
“I’ll just call for a tow,” you insist, still refusing the help of the stranger you know nothing about, aside from the fact that he has just about the most high-end street legal sports bike in pristine condition and you find it to be pretentious.
“Suit yourself. I can fix it for free, though.”
You press your lips into a thin line, brow furrowed as you look over his features. The man practically towers over you, he’s built like a tank and dwarfs you in every sense. His expression is aloof, giving away very little about him. You have no reason to believe he’s lying though, so with a sigh, you give in and hand him the spanner he’d lent you.
The man lowers himself beside you, disconnecting the other side of the fuel line entirely as he begins pulling apart the carburetor. You sit back, watching your bike attentively as though he might do damage to it, but his fingers move deftly as if this is all muscle memory to him.
“What’s your name?” You ask as the silence stretches on. It’s a surprisingly comfortable silence, as he grabs a rag and water bottle from his backpack. He glances at you as he wets the rag and begins cleaning the carburetor.
“Sukuna.”
“You know your way around a bike.”
“Been riding for a while.”
You nod. Despite his kind actions, his words are distant and frigid, so you decide not to push the subject.
It’s silent for a while as you sit with your hands splayed on the asphalt behind you, watching his actions. Your eyes survey the man hunched over your bike, admiring the smooth lines of the tattoos that line his jaw, more ink just barely visible along his neck from beneath his jacket. His hair looks freshly dyed and his right eye is dotted in long scars that have you wondering what happened.
If the situation were any different, you might be hesitant to accept his help, but in truth you’re too tired to complain.
It’s not much longer before your bike is back together. Wiping his hands with the rag, he nods to the bike.
“Give ‘er.”
Pushing yourself to your feet, you turn the key. The engine flips once, twice, three times, before finally sputtering to life.
“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you sigh in relief, shaking your head. “I thought the issue was the fuel line,” you groan over the sound of the engine.
“It is. You need to replace it, this should get you a few miles away though.”
You nod affirmatively, reaching down to hand back his tools. Sukuna dumps them in his bag and throws it over his shoulder.
“You’re a lifesaver, I don’t know how to thank you,” you tell him, your mood no longer sour as your bike continues to roar, thankfully not dead on the side of the road anymore.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He simply shrugs.
“Let me buy you a drink, or something,” you insist in spite of your exhaustion, though his cold demeanor doesn’t give you much hope that he’ll accept anyway, so you figure you’ll be able to get some rest regardless of the offer.
As he turns to grab his helmet, you half expect him to start his bike and drive off without another word, ignoring your offer entirely. It’s just the impression he gives you, but he surprises you.
“Keep up, then.”
Your brow raises and before you have a chance to complain that you’re covered in a layer of sweat and grease and you’d meant at a later date, his bike is roaring to life.
You scramble onto your own bike and follow him closely. Sukuna is half-shocked when you actually pull up into the parking lot of a small bar right behind him, pulling your helmet off and shaking your head in an effort to fix your hair.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t find everything about you intriguing. From your bike to the way you ride and your feisty disposition all packaged in such a tiny figure compared to him, he thinks it’s cute. Maybe even something more than that.
He leads the way to the bar wordlessly as you complain about the grease coating your body, but he barely notices the oil marking your skin. He’s used to it, if anything, from working on his own bike.
You aren’t even sure if he’s listening given his flippant attitude and lack of response, but you drone on regardless. It’s better than silence.
Choosing to ignore your frustrated rambles, he orders a whiskey and glances in your direction.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” you tell the bartender with a sweet smile, waving your hand in the air like you don’t much mind what exactly you’re drinking. It’s your turn to surprise Sukuna.
“Don’t think I caught your name,” Sukuna says as you lean over the bar beside him.
You tell him your name with a sweet smile, your mood clearly improved as you take the whiskey and damn-near down it in one swift movement.
When your eyes land on Sukuna again, he’s smirking. He’s not really sure what to make of you nor you of him, but he certainly likes it.
Though you both elect not to have any more alcohol in favor of driving home later, conversation comes easily for the rest of the hour. At least, as easily as it comes for Sukuna.
“Where’d you get your bike?” You ask decidedly, trying to make conversation with the stoic individual.
“A shop up north.”
“Looks like it cost a pretty penny.”
He hums in approval.
That’s about how most conversations with him go, so when you throw your jacket on and insist you should get home, you’re admittedly surprised when he pauses and holds his hand out expectantly.
You stare up at him curiously. Not once had you gotten the impression he was interested in any of your conversations, yet now he wants something from you? You can’t decide what to make of this, what to make of him.
“Sorry, um,” you stare down in confusion at his expectant hand, mouth opening and closing as you try to decide what to say.
“Your phone,” he instructs and your pretty eyes widen as you stare up at him, the difference in stature between you both now incredibly apparent as he dwarfs you when standing over you.
“Oh!” You stare at him with pursed lips and pull your phone out, opening it to your texts. He sends himself a text and hands your phone back wordlessly, before turning his shoulder as he walks out abruptly, leaving you further confused.
Chasing after him, you just barely catch him as he kicks his bike’s stand up and throws his helmet on.
“Thanks again!” You call after him. He glances over his shoulder and though you can’t see his expression behind the dark visor of his helmet, he smirks back at you before driving off.
As you just barely make it back home on your sputtering bike, you manage to replace the fuel line and shoot him a text.
11:53 PM You || fixed the fuel line. thanks again, youre a lifesaver
11:55 PM Sukuna || thanks for the drink.
In all honesty, you figure that’s the last you’ll ever hear from him, but you quickly find out that the cold disposition he gives off isn’t really all there is to him when he asks if you want to go to a bike show a week later.
He fails to mention that his youngest brother Yuji would be joining you for the show, but as you walk the show floor with him and his younger sibling, you realize his brother likely just got all the conversation genes.
Sukuna is still aloof, he doesn't say much to you outside of comments about the bikes and even though he’s the one that invited you, you still can't tell if he enjoys your company. Although he’s quiet, his presence is surprisingly alluring and you're grateful to have someone to listen to your ramblings, even if he doesn't seem interested.
As you walk the length of the convention hall, weaving between crowds of people that seem to part at Sukuna’s menacing figure, Sukuna pauses to look at gorgeous black Yamaha. You barely catch the way he silently stops, managing to point out the pause to Yuji just in time to keep you all from getting separated.
“Don’t think I’ve heard him talk this much in ages,” Yuji comments with a raised brow. You tilt your head towards him, following his gaze to Sukuna.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” the younger man scratches the back of his head. “I don’t have my license yet but I like lookin’ around. He’s usually pretty snippy about which bikes I should be looking at,” he shrugs. “You guys must have a lot in common for him to be so chatty.”
Chatty, you practically scoff to yourself. The man barely said ten sentences to you.
You do notice the way he shoots Yuji a glare or groans about his chatting on occasion, though. Not once does he direct that at you.
Even still, you don't expect him to keep inviting you out. Ten sentences isn’t exactly something to form a friendship on.
Continuing to surprise you, you still hear from him. Next thing you know, you’re invited to ride with him and his brother Choso, invited out to dinner with a group of his friends and he even accepts your invite to see a horror movie with a couple of your friends.
You’re quick to learn that Sukuna is just like that.
Sukuna’s mild and somewhat haughty disposition is something you grow accustomed to as you learn how to talk to him. Though you find yourself talking mostly at him, you realize that’s just how he likes things. He pays a surprising amount of attention to your words, though you don’t tend to notice until he shows it through actions later.
He shows up to your work with takeout on his lunch break when you mention you forgot your lunch. He goes shopping with you despite his distaste for malls when you tell him you need some new clothes. He’s more agreeable when you’re around and his friends are quick to point it out, insisting you need to be there at all times to make him more tolerable, though they’re mostly joking.
He does treat you differently from the rest of his friends. You figure it’s just because your friendship is new, though.
After being invited along on a ride down the highway to a neighboring small town with Sukuna’s friend Uraume and his brother Choso, you eye up Sukuna’s plate. You’d ordered no side with your meal but god his fries look good. You shoot him a curious glance, met with his typical aloof expression, if not one of mild irritation. Glancing again at his fries, you reach over to steal one, pleased when you pop it in your mouth.
Sukuna rolls his eyes at you, muttering under his breath about you ‘being a brat’ and how ‘you should have ordered a side’, but it’s all a show as he lets you steal another one when you smile sweetly at him.
When Choso follows your act, wanting to try the fries as well, Sukuna swats his hand away with a hiss. “My plate isn’t a buffet,” he growls contemptibly. Choso wrinkles his nose, shaking his hand of the harsh slap.
When Sukuna gets up to use the washroom, Choso waits until he’s out of earshot to comment.
“How the hell did you get away with getting some of that asshole’s fries?”
You shrug. “Dunno. He just let me.”
“Grumpy bastard…”
Again, you insist you just don’t know him well and he’s being kind so the action is brushed off.
A week later, Sukuna insists you tag along with his buddy Toji to get drinks, but when you arrive at the meeting spot and pull your helmet off, Sukuna is haughtily arguing with the raven-haired man.
“C’mon, it’s cheap. Their food’s fine.” Toji insists with little more than a raised eyebrow and an unamused sigh.
“What food?” You ask with a smile as you saunter over to the two much taller men.
“Red’s,” Toji responds gruffly, his unamused expression turning to one of intrigue as he realizes you must be Sukuna’s friend. “You must be y/n.”
You grin at him as he smirks.
“Toji,” he introduces himself. “Now can ya tell this asshole that Red’s is cheap?”
Sukuna’s arms are crossed over his chest. “We can do better for cheap.” He all but hisses, his eyes fixed in the distance.
“I’ve never been,” you glance between the two with pursed lips, mentally chuckling to yourself at how much you have to look up to both men. “I think it sounds good.”
Sukuna’s arms fall to his side as his fiery eyes lock on you. He pauses for a moment, sparing a glance at Toji, but those deep eyes return to you with a begrudging sigh as he grumbles something under his breath.
“Fine.”
Toji’s eyes widen as he dangles his keys from his hands, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he fists the keys as he gets ready to get in his car and head to the bar. He pauses before opening the door, a shit-eating grin spread over his scarred lips.
“Think I need ya to tag along more often, y/n.” He catches the tilt of your head and chuckles. “Think ya tame this shithead a bit.”
Sukuna roars something at Toji as he tries to catch him before the door slams and the car speeds off, leaving you giggling at the interaction.
Toji’s not the last to point it out, either.
You don’t think much of it, though. Sukuna just shows he cares through his actions and that’s how you come to know him as your best friend.
Sukuna is, of course, smitten with you. He adores how perfectly you seem to understand him. He loves the way you invite him along to everything with your friends despite his tendencies to scare others off. He loves that in spite of the trouble he gets himself into, your opinion of him never changes. He loves that you text him about stupid things, and that even when his response is inhospitable, you continue to text him like you would any other friend.
Because you’re his best friend. And he won’t admit it to anyone, but you know. He knows you know.
You get him.
So of course when you excitedly text him about your date, you have no way of knowing that his naturally cold responses are no longer his usual tone. They’re frigid, maybe even mildly snarky, but over text you don’t see the way his brow is knit tightly in contempt.
When he meets your boyfriend for the first time, you notice the strange tension between your best friend and partner. Your boyfriend brings it up but you had warned him in advance that Sukuna comes across that way, so you brush it off as little more than Sukuna being himself.
Yet, you notice the little things. You’ve known Sukuna for a long time now. You notice the way his jaw tightens when he sees your boyfriend lean down to kiss you at a dinner for your birthday a year into your relationship. You tilt your head questioningly at him from across the table, a silent query, but he doesn’t give you a response, that mild expression never once leaving his eyes as he leans back in his seat.
“Kuna?” Your sweet voice pulls his attention down to you when you pull him aside as everyone is saying goodnight outside the restaurant. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’.”
You cock your brow at his flippant response, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “I know you well enough to know you’re lying,” you insist with an expectant look.
God, that look makes his hardened expression falter. Sukuna is well aware that he’s unapproachable, scary even. His form is built and he towers over most everyone, not to mention his constant disinterested expression and the tattoos he sports.
You often tease him for his ‘resting bitch face’.
Yet here you are, hand on your hip, so small and sweet, a fire lit behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Cute.
“It’s just been a long day, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He knows you don’t believe him, but it’s the best you’re getting and you know that as well as he does. Hurt flashes through your eyes and he does feel a pang of guilt, but he keeps it locked away as he sighs and pulls something from the pocket of his leather jacket. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
Your wide eyes look up at him in shock. You’d insisted no one should get you a gift, but when you texted him this morning and told him your boyfriend, so cheerily talking to your friends behind the two of you, had forgotten your birthday, he couldn’t leave you empty-handed in that way.
You gingerly reach out and take the box from him. You know what it is instantly and the way your cheeks redden, the way it shocks you to silence has him smirking, mostly to himself. His hands remain in his pockets, his unamused expression locked on your hands that hesitate as you slowly open the velveteen box.
Lying so beautifully strewn in the box is a necklace you pointed out to him when you’d gone shopping together what must have been years ago now. A gorgeous silver chain lays delicately holding a dainty bejeweled star with your birthstone in the center. Of course he’d been paying attention. He always does.
“You didn’t,” it’s all you can manage as you stare at it in disbelief. To your surprise, Sukuna is smiling softly down at you, a rare sight that you want to burn into your retinas.
“You deserve a good birthday.”
You know it’s a dig at your boyfriend, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Maybe that should be a sign, but you’re too caught up in the moment as tears brim your eyes.
“This was so expensive though, I- I- can’t-”
“You can and you will.”
You know when Sukuna demands something, he means it. This is one of those times.
Tears threatening to spill, you wrap your arms tightly around his toned middle. If he weren’t a giant in comparison to you, you might have bowled him over with the force you hug him with.
Sukuna relishes in the moment, memorizing the feeling of your body in his arms, the way you bury your head into his chest, hiding your tears in his hug as they inevitably stain his white V-neck, but he doesn’t care. His arms wrap tightly around you, one of the rare times he returns one of your affections.
When you part from him, using your free hand to wipe your eyes, Sukuna takes the box from you, moving to put the necklace on with ease. He moves like every action he takes is practiced as he confidently clasps the necklace around your neck.
“It’s beautiful,” you hum as you look down at it, running a delicate finger over the pendant.
The salmon-haired man hums mildly. “‘Course. You chose it.”
You examine his eyes, your expression unreadable as you contemplate Sukuna’s actions.
He may be agreeable around you, he may be willing to make compromises with you that he won’t for others, but this is new for him. This is sweet, and he knows you’re thinking such a thing too when he meets those pretty eyes staring up at him. He doesn’t care anymore, though.
He wants you to be happy.
When your boyfriend confronts you about the necklace later that night, you tell him the truth. Maybe you hope he’ll realize he fucked up. Maybe you hope he’ll right his wrongs.
Instead, you end up in an argument as your boyfriend insists that his mistake in forgetting the date was honest but that Sukuna overstepped boundaries.
Maybe your best friend did, in truth.
And so as your boyfriend snaps when you defend your best friend and the argument takes a turn for the worse, maybe it shouldn’t be that same best friend that you turn to. Maybe that will just make things worse.
But the phone only rings twice before he picks up.
He sounds tired, his voice coated in sluggish exhaustion as he mumbles a ‘hello’ on the other line. You hear the rustling of sheets on the other end, a pang of guilt clawing at your throat as you know you’ve woken him up.
“Kuna?” The tone of your voice is foreign to him. Meek, strained. Even earlier in the night when you had confronted him about his cold disposition, your tone still held that unwavering strength and fire that he loves about you, so this wakes him up.
Leaning up on his elbow in bed, he squints at his phone.
“It’s three in the morning, y/n.”
“I know.” You pause and Sukuna waits for you to explain. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know that he’s listening. “We got into a fight.”
Sukuna sighs, full of disdain, though not towards you. Never towards you.
“You safe?” His voice is surprisingly soft, though you chalk it up to him being tired.
You nod, before realizing he can’t see you. “... yeah.”
He hears you sniffle on the other end of the line and has to physically resist the urge to say things he’ll regret about your boyfriend. “Right. ‘M on my way. Stay put.”
He hangs up, wasting no time in throwing on a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black V-neck. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, although it doesn’t do him any favors and he isn’t about to waste time styling it. As it stands, you’ve seen him in a worse state after some particularly wild nights that had ended with one of you on the other’s couch.
His bike roars to life outside his apartment and he’s off into the cold night air, barely grazing his skin as his leather jacket and helmet protect him from the bite. He pushes the limits of his bike and of the road as he speeds past any cars he comes across on the short drive to your house, and he’s glad he did when he spots you on your front doorstep, head in your hands in little more than pajama shorts and a tank top.
He’s off his bike in an instant, shaking his head as he takes his helmet off in an effort to fix his hair before he kneels in front of you.
You’re relieved at the sight of him, clearly fresh out of bed and having hurried right over. Your knight in shining armor. Or at least a shiny red helmet.
His brow furrows as he looks you over, spotting the goosebumps that litter your bare legs and arms.
“Shit,” he mutters as he rolls his shoulders and shrugs his leather jacket off, wrapping it around you. It engulfs your figure almost entirely, draping over you like a dress. If the situation was any different he would think it’s adorable.
You look up at him between long, wet lashes, fresh tears streaking down your makeup-stained cheeks. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying and you’re sure your exhaustion and defeat are written across your face in bright bold lettering by the way he frowns.
“Did he kick you out?”
“It’s a long story,” you mutter, just barely audible.
“I got time.”
There’s a note of contempt that floats between his words and you know just as well as he does that he’s resisting the urge to beat down your door and knock some sense into your boyfriend.
Your mouth opens then closes enough times that Sukuna grows impatient, muscles in his jaw clenching as he grows closer and closer to busting down your door when you finally find words.
“We’ve been fighting on and off since we got home,” you admit. Sukuna raises a brow. That was four hours ago. “He was pissed about- about-” you stammer over your words, biting your lip as you fiddle with the necklace that sits beautifully around your neck. Beautiful like you.
“Me,” Sukuna dryly finishes your sentence.
You frown and he knows he’s right. Of course. Maybe the necklace was overstepping this time, but he’d watched your shitty boyfriend step on you more times than he could count and hadn’t once said a word. He respected you and your fiery demeanor entirely too much to ever want to see you upset.
Yet no matter what path he chose, it seemed you would be upset regardless.
“He took my phone and went through everything,” you clear your throat as your voice cracks mid-sentence, staring down at the phone in your hands. The screen is cracked and Sukuna isn’t sure if he wants to know whether it was shattered before today or not.
Your words set him ablaze in anger. It burns like an itch on his skin and it takes every last ounce of self control that he has to hold himself back and just listen. The contrasting cold air is nice on his skin, soothing what little fury it's able to with its brisk touch.
“Do you remember that photo we took together on Halloween?”
Sukuna nods slowly. He knows exactly where this is going. It was well over a year ago, before you’d started dating your boyfriend, when you had convinced Sukuna to dress as a king and you his queen. He’d had a surprising amount of fun with it and with enough alcohol flowing through his veins, his words had grown more frivolous. He’d spent all night calling you his queen or his princess, pretty much until the moment he’d thrown up, the words ejecting from his dialect along with the alcohol. Regardless, the proof was in the texts between you from that night.
At some point in the night, you’d gotten a photo taken clinging to his shoulders, a calm smile on Sukuna’s lips as he’d carried you with ease. It made him smirk the following morning recalling the memory, glad it hadn’t disappeared with the words or alcohol.
Regardless, he’d missed his chance to shoot his shot, growing too accustomed to having you around to consider you didn’t see his change in attitude around you as anything more than friendly, so he’d retreated to his usual detached self.
Clearly that detachment wasn’t enough for your boyfriend as you flip him your phone screen. So it is newly broken.
God give Sukuna the strength to sit still.
“And you’re outside now, why?”
“I felt sick, I needed air.” You shrug, fiddling with your phone in your lap. “He got mad that I walked away and we ended up fighting again, then he slammed the door in my face.”
“He kicked you out,” Sukuna states matter of factly, venom dripping from each and every word.
“He locked me out,” you shrug again, but Sukuna doesn’t care for the details. You have no keys, not to your bike or your house, no jacket, you’re in shorts and a tank top… jesus.
“What a fucking prick.” With that, he’s on his feet and you know he’s about to slam his fist on your door. Or through it. Sukuna may be kind with you but the bad boy persona he sports isn’t a persona at all- Sukuna would not hesitate to knock your boyfriend clean out. He’d been to jail before, one more time wasn’t a big deal if it meant keeping you safe.
“Kuna.” He pauses at the plain tone you say his name in. It’s not a warning, it’s not scolding. He doesn’t know what to make of it. “Not now.”
He huffs and clicks his tongue. His jaw clenches as his shrunken, furious pupils stare down at you, but when he notices your legs are shaking from the cold, he relents.
“Fine.” The word is grumbled as his hands reach for your waist and lift you to your feet with little more than a hum when you’re standing at your full height, barely reaching his broad shoulders. He leaves a hand on the small of your back, setting his helmet over your head and zipping his jacket up over your small frame in an effort to keep you safe when you climb onto the back of his bike.
Sukuna glances back at you as you cling to his toned abdomen, his bike pulling away quickly. Riding with Sukuna is familiar. Though you normally follow him, his quick riding pace and not-entirely-legal maneuvers don’t scare you the way they once did, because everything Sukuna does feels practiced, rehearsed.
Pulling into his apartment building, he pulls the bike into a parking spot and lets you hand him the helmet as you follow him up to his apartment.
It’s a bit of a mess, dishes sit in the sink, empty bottles and cans littering the counter and a garbage bag sits at the door, but it doesn’t matter because you’re warm and you’re safe and it’s not like he’d let you take the couch anyway given the current situation.
Sukuna moves to at least tidy the couch, fully expecting you to make yourself at home like you always do, but when he turns to see you’re staring at the ground in the entrance, his jacket wrapped around you like a blanket, he frowns. That’s not like you.
In fact, in all the years you two have known one another, Sukuna’s never seen you so spaced out.
“Did he hurt you?”
It’s his best guess as to why you’re so out of it, but when you shake your head, he’s simply at a loss.
Sukuna doesn’t do comfort. He’ll watch your favorite movies with you and make you food, but he doesn’t do words of comfort. He’s a man of action, and although the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on is standing in his apartment, he doesn’t dare to act on the stray thoughts running through his mind, even though he knows you deserve to be treated right.
Coming to stand in front of you, he sighs.
“Whaddya want me to do?”
Anyone else would assume he’s irritated with your presence, but you know it’s a genuine question. Your friend doesn’t know what you need and he’s trying his best to figure it out. He’s trying to help.
“Can I have a blanket?” You ask him, shoulders hunched in exhaustion.
There’s silence in the apartment as Sukuna moves to his bedroom to grab a blanket.
“The red one please!” You call after him as though that isn’t the one he’s already grabbing. He knows your favorite.
Returning to you, he drops the red blanket in your arms, his heart twisting as you pull his jacket off and hand it to him in exchange.
“Can I, um, come in?”
Sukuna raises an eyebrow questioningly, subconsciously fiddling with the tongue piercing in his mouth. Not once have you ever asked him to come in. You always, always, made yourself at home, even though it was much to his dismay the first few times you’d let yourself into his apartment in spite of his grumbles and irritated huffs.
Sukuna’s reaction is all the permission you need as you realize he must find the whole situation strange, but everything feels foreign to you. It’s not like you haven’t stayed at Sukuna’s before, it’s not like the couch isn’t your second bed, it’s that you feel like you’re betraying your boyfriend by being here.
Not that Sukuna would do anything anyway, you know he doesn’t see you in such a way. You may be his closest friend but he’s never once shown any sort of other interest towards you. Even if he did see you that way, he’s just not that kind of person.
Still, you gingerly sit at the edge of the couch, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping yourself in the massive blanket. Sukuna moves to sit beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He looks at you expectantly, waiting to see what you want to do, if you want to talk.
But you don’t answer, and Sukuna is at a loss of what to do. A contemplative silence settles over you as he leans his head back against the couch, eyeing you and hoping you’ll say something.
“Can I ask you something, Ryo?”
The use of the nickname he lets only you call him quirks his brow as he realizes you’re serious.
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
That’s… not what the gruff man was expecting to hear.
His jaw tightens as his piercing eyes stare down at you. He rubs a hand over his face as he tries to make sense of the question, too tired to be thinking this deeply over something. He stares at you pensively as though the world rests on this one response.
“Yeah. You’re pretty.”
Your eyes fall to your knees and the way Sukuna’s head tilts, you’re sure he thinks he’s made a mistake.
“Thanks, Kuna.”
“The fuck did that prick say to you that has ya askin’?”
You hesitate, avoiding his discerning eyes as Sukuna’s chest surges with anger. Your best friend’s fist clenches in his lap as he leans forward, examining your expression.
“What the fuck did he say?” Sukuna’s voice is monstrous, but you could never fear his anger knowing he’s never once directed it your way. You know he’s irritated you haven’t answered yet, but even between his irritation and the gruff tone he uses, he could never scare you.
“He told me I couldn’t do better than him.”
“And?” Sukuna pushes demandingly, his fingers clasping the back of his couch so hard you wonder if he has the strength to crush it.
“That he’s way out of my league and should have chosen…” you trail off, not oblivious to the way Sukuna quirks a brow for you to continue. When you meekly whisper your friend’s name, Sukuna’s seething.
Fury practically drifts from his body like smoke and to your surprise you do hear the couch creak beneath his hand.
You’ve only ever seen Sukuna this angry once before.
Sukuna’s closest friend aside from you, Uraume, often accompanied you on your trips to the bar with Sukuna and would join in on your rides with their own bike. The two of them were two peas in a pod, similar in all the ways you weren’t, but if anything it made you closer to Uraume for having an understanding of Sukuna.
For that exact reason, you’d spotted Uraume’s discomfort a mile away when someone began hitting on them. Uraume could handle themself, so you didn’t think much of it until the man’s hand was tightly gripping Uraume’s arm.
Alarmed, you pointed out Uraume’s discomfort to your drunk best friend and he didn’t hesitate to clock the man hitting on them.
So when Sukuna is on his feet with a familiar rage brewing and doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, you know you have to calm him down before you’re bailing him out of jail again. It’s not something you want to make a habit of.
“Kuna, it’s okay.”
“No!” He hisses, swinging his hand through the air as he stares at the door.
“Please, I’ll be okay, I promise,” you try to insist, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“It’s not okay for him to say shit like that to you,” he growls, glowering from where he stands over you, eyes on the door. He wants to leave, you know he does.
“It’s not, I know, but it’s not your problem.”
“Not my- What the fuck don’t you get?”
Your eyes widen at Sukuna’s question. His voice is frigid as ever, but for once you feel the shards of ice pricking your skin.
“What?” Your dumbfounded and hurt question hangs in the air momentarily as you try to process this outburst.
Sukuna’s scarred eye twitches as he runs his tongue over his teeth. He huffs out a breath as he sees your expression, forcing himself to calm down so as not to make this about him. He doesn’t want to say something he regrets, and he certainly doesn’t want that icy tone to be directed at you, ever again.
“He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”
Your shoulders fall at his words, his chest heaving as he stares at you with an unidentifiable emotion.
“Where’s this coming from?” Your brow knits tightly over the bridge of your nose. As you subconsciously chew on your lower lip, Sukuna has to do everything in his power not to stare at your lips.
“Look, I just care, alright? Or somethin’.”
You barely know how to react to your best friend’s admission of care for you. Not once has he ever shown an ounce of his care through words. Sure, he’s shown it in other ways, but this is a first for him.
His gaze is fixed on the kitchen, so he barely notices when you stand up and set your hand on his arm, your thumb comfortingly rubbing his arm.
“I appreciate it, Kuna.” You tell him with a tired smile, doing your best to reassure him that you’re okay in spite of the situation. “Just… can we please just watch a movie or something?” You’re too tired, too worn out to handle everything going on right now and you’re afraid the buildup of emotions in your chest will overflow if you don’t distract yourself soon.
Sukuna’s focus fixes on your hand on his arm, the way it seems to burn into him in a way he’d long grown painfully familiar with. It wasn’t uncommon for you to grab his arm and drag him somewhere, or hug him each time you said hello. Hell, the Halloween you’d both gotten entirely too drunk, you’d been on Sukuna’s back half of the night giggling and telling him, your King, where to take you.
Yet this time, the burn hurts. It hurts him to see you here with dried tears on your cheeks. It angers him to know your boyfriend had gotten away with treating you in such a way for so long.
He lets out a breath through his nose and takes a seat on the couch again at your insistence, watching as you drape the big blanket over the both of you. And god is it cute when you do, making sure he’s completely covered from the waist down like you’re tucking him in.
When you lean back against the arm of the couch, slinking comfortably back into the cushions and grab the remote, Sukuna feels his body begin to relax too, allowing himself to focus on your wellbeing here and now rather than the fact that he wants to pummel your boyfriend.
He’s not shocked when you flip through options and eventually settle on a Studio Ghibli movie he knows you’ve seen a million times because he’s seen it one too many times.
You know he doesn’t mind although he isn’t the biggest fan of the movie. Either way, it’s nearly five in the morning and you both know you’ll be asleep before you know it.
–
The next morning as cool air pours through a window and birdsong decorates each blow of the breeze, the pounding of your head is a rude awakening. It’s too early for you to be up given that you were awake so late, but your phone seems to think otherwise.
Your eyes flicker open blearily, and you lean up in bed with a yawn, realizing suddenly that you’re in Sukuna’s room and he’s nowhere to be found. Sitting up fully, you bring a hand up to your temple, pressing on it in an effort to ease the pain as you search for your phone, finding it eventually on the floor a small distance away.
Hopping down from the tall mattress, you yawn as you stare at the screen, your heart clenching at the sight of the contact photo on-screen as your phone rings. Your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both grin. With the way your screen is now shattered, it looks almost like a scene from a movie in the way it’s practically screaming a warning at you.
You’d spent far too much time alone with your thoughts the previous night. Hell, even with Sukuna’s comfort, his disdain for your boyfriend had been a bit of a wakeup call. Still, your thumb hovers over the green button.
“Hello?” Your voice is broken as you answer the phone.
“Thank god baby, I was so worried about you. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you outside last night, I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
You take a couple of steps forward, walking towards the living room as your eyes lock onto the tall man draped over the couch, his limbs entirely too long for the cushions. He must have carried you to his bed at some point and taken the couch.
Your stomach twists as you realize your boyfriend’s words are all lost on you, you didn’t hear a single one. You’re not sure when you tuned him out, or how long you’ve been staring at Sukuna when your boyfriend’s words pull you from your thoughts.
“Y/n? Did you hear me?”
“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it. What did you say?”
He sighs in frustration on the other side of the line and you wince as his tone gains a familiar edge. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you so we can talk.”
“I- um-” you pause, brow furrowing as you stare at your best friend, who begins to shuffle from his uncomfortable position on the couch as your soft voice awakens him from slumber.
“Y/n?” Your boyfriend’s voice cuts through the haze again, but you’re at a loss for words as Sukuna lifts his head, irritation written across his face at being awake, but when he flips over on the couch and spots you, his demeanor softens.
“Yeah. You’re pretty.”
Sukuna’s words ring in your head over and over and you bite your lip. He pushes himself up on the couch, moving to stand a small distance in front of you in three long strides.
Sukuna may not have a way with words, but you never had a hard time telling what he was thinking just by the way he looks at you. As he stares down at you with a tilt of his head, you know exactly what’s going through his mind.
Like that, it all clicks. Of course he hated your boyfriend. The signs were always there, you just didn’t pay them any mind. The reason he was colder than usual towards your boyfriend is as obvious as the sun in the sky.
Sukuna thinks you’re pretty. He wasn’t trying to comfort you when he said that. That’s not who Sukuna is. That may as well be an admission that he would move mountains for you.
“Y/n, baby? What’s going on? I want you home, now.”
Your chest twists at his tone and as your eyes meet Sukuna’s, you wonder if your phone is loud enough for him to hear when his lip twitches.
You clear your throat, your eyes never once leaving Sukuna’s from where he stands with tousled hair, wrinkled sweatpants and a bare chest. It’s not unfamiliar to you, you know Sukuna is beyond hot. You know Sukuna could take anyone he wants home and you know he has a streak of doing so, but now that you think about it, it’s been a long time since you’ve seen Sukuna with anyone, and you know why now.
“You left me outside all night in the cold.” Your voice is meek, still mindlessly chewing on your lip as you stare at the tattooed man’s eyes, now lit ablaze with a fire that hadn’t been there earlier. “You know what- I should go.”
“What? Baby, come on we need to talk-”
“I have nothing to talk to you about. We’re-” You pause, your stomach stirring uncomfortably as all of your emotions seem to collide and collapse within you. You feel the tears that threaten to spill, your composure that threatens to break as you ball your hand into a fist at your side.
Sukuna’s hand twitches beside him as he does everything in his power not to lean down and kiss you then and there. He wants you. He wants all of you. He wants to show your boyfriend everything he’s about to lose.
He wants to make you his. He wants you to make him yours.
Yet, all he can reasonably do is set a hand on your upper arm. He can’t be selfish. Not when you’ve come to him in your time of need.
“We’re done.”
“Nonono, we are not done, hold on-”
“I’ll come grab my bike and my things soon-”
“-let’s talk about this, I just made a mistake, okay-”
“-goodbye.”
“Don’t hang up, baby, hold on, fuck-”
Your hand falls to your side as you stare up at the taller man.
He doesn’t say a word as a tear runs down your cheek, shortly followed by a sob wracking your body. Sukuna’s hand moves from your arm to the back of your head as he pulls you into his chest, holding you there as you cry against his bare skin, tears wetting his toned pecs.
It’s not his ideal morning, but at least he can shamelessly say now that he wants to rearrange your boyfriend’s face with his fist.
He won’t say it anyway, though. He knows better.
Your best friend doesn’t say anything but his actions speak volumes as he holds you to him protectively, unmoving as he envelops you into his form. He exhales deeply as he holds you tightly to his body, his fingers gripping you tightly. It’s reassuring to know you have him in your time of need and eventually your tears begin to subside.
You blink your wet lashes against his skin as your warm breath fans his chest and abdomen. He shoots you a disgruntled look as your lashes tickle his skin and he jolts at the feeling.
“Don’t be a brat,” he warns through gritted teeth, but it holds no malice.
You chuckle through tears. “Sorry, Ryo.”
He rolls his shoulders and holds you again, letting your face fall against his chest once more. This time, you’re careful to keep your eyes closed to avoid tickling him.
He’s surprisingly patient with you as he lets you stand there, only moving to take and silence your phone when he grows frustrated with the vibration.
When you finally settle, he leads you back to the couch, tossing his shirt and the blanket off the couch and onto the floor.
“Did you move me to the bed?”
He hums affirmatively, his chest warming as you smile at him. “Thanks, I could have taken the couch though. It looked a bit too small for y-”
“No.”
You breathe out through your nose in a half-hearted laugh. There’s never any use arguing with him when he’s made up his mind, so you give it up. Oh well.
“Can I stay here for a bit?”
You figure Sukuna will huff and puff and make a show out of it but he nods easily.
“Thanks,” you sigh, sinking back into the couch.
You stare at the ceiling. What a morning. You’ve barely been awake for ten minutes and your heart is pounding in your chest just from sitting beside your best friend, someone you’ve known for years.
Someone you’d long pushed any attraction for down into the depths of your heart in an effort to save yourself the heartbreak of being with someone who seemed to have no interest in you. Hell, you’d once thought he was emotionally unavailable, and yet…?
You can’t help but stare.
He’s exhausted, you’re not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stay awake as his head bobs down onto the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar as sleep settles over his form. You smile softly at the sight, swallowing at the yearning feeling of wanting to settle into his warmth, though you know you shouldn’t.
You’re a mess. You’ve heard your boyfriend- ex- say things you aren’t ready to admit to yourself that leave fresh stinging wounds. Hell, that’s an entire can of worms you don’t want to touch right now. Your belongings, your bike, your entire life is all trapped in his house, in the house of someone that-
God why had you let him step all over you like that? It leaves you frowning as your heart twists and clenches uncomfortably. You loved him. Deep down, you know it’s the reason. You convinced yourself he loved you too.
You curse yourself for overlooking your feelings for Sukuna, for pushing them down. He’d always cared deeply for you, the signs had always been there, yet you never paid them any mind.
Chewing on your lower lip again, you get to your feet and grab the blanket off the floor, draping it over him. Your thumb brushes over the faded black lines that race over his shoulders and down his collar bones as you tuck the blanket over his shoulders.
He hums subconsciously, a serene smile pulling at his lips.
You smile back, turning to get some rest yourself. When Sukuna kicks his foot out suddenly and damn-near trips you, you let out a surprised yelp, spinning around to confront him.
“What the hell, Kuna?” You harshly snarl at him.
His lidded eyes just barely open, your reaction earning a smirk from him. There’s his feisty best friend.
“C’mere, it’s cold.”
It’s not cold, and Ryomen Sukuna is not sly, but your stomach flutters and your heart jumps to your throat anyway. Your shoulders fall to your sides in surprise, unable to be frustrated with him.
He flips the blanket up, his arm extended over the back of the couch. His expression is mild as usual but when you take him up on his offer and plop down next to him, his racing heart tells you everything you need to know.
Pulling your knees up onto the couch, you let him pull you against is chest, your head resting on his broad shoulder as he barely lasts a minute before the rhythm of his breathing steadies and his head falls back on the couch again.
You’re not long for the world of the waking either as you succumb to the temptation of sleep on his warm chest.
When your eyes flicker open again, your head has fallen into Sukuna’s lap and he’s splayed in what looks like an uncomfortable position with his arm and leg hanging off the couch. His head is still leaned back against the back of the couch with his mouth hanging open as soft snores part his lips.
It’s not the first time you’ve seen him asleep. You’ve spent many hungover mornings at his apartment and vice versa but now in the gentle morning light with the distant sound of birdsong as the only noise disturbing his snores, he looks peaceful.
You shuffle on his lap in an effort to get a better look at his serene expression, but his strained groan suggests that you may have awoken him earlier than he would have liked.
“Can ya cut that out?” He grumbles without opening his eyes as he reaches down and adjusts your head to lay more on his abdomen.
The irritation in his voice doesn’t hold a candle to the sincerity in which his arm now cradles you against him and you giggle, to which he opens an eye to observe you.
“Sorry,” you hum. He exhales as he closes his eyes again, sliding further down on the couch.
You lay in bliss on his toned and horribly attractive bare chest for what only feels like a few minutes before his eyes peel open and he’s drinking in the sight of you, his gorgeous best friend, smiling at him from his chest.
And oh my god, Ryomen Sukuna is blushing.
Would you really be his best friend if you didn’t point it out?
“Kuna?”
“Hm?”
“You a lil flustered?”
Sukuna’s brow furrows deeply. “I am not.”
“You’re blushing.”
“It’s warm in here, you’re laying on top of me and we have a blanket,” he refutes with an edge to his voice that tells you that you’re poking a nerve.
You also know him well enough to know it’s faux anger, playful if anything.
“Funny, I was told it was cold a couple of hours ago.”
His lip curls, chest rising and falling beneath you as he huffs. “You push my buttons.” You can see from the way a muscle in his jaw works that he’s fiddling with his tongue piercing.
“I could push more than just your buttons,” your voice drips with confidence, lowering an octave at the implication. You pull a hand out from beneath your chin, running a dainty finger across the length of his collar bone.
Sukuna’s pupils dilate in an instant, his attention drawn to your finger. He swallows hard, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk. All signs of his contempt forgotten, warmth swirls in those gorgeous eyes of his, but the smirk on his lips is devilish.
“Careful, princess,” he warns in a gruff voice that has you clenching your thighs together with wide eyes. Sukuna’s brow twitches as he feels your legs shuffle, entirely too happy with himself at getting such a reaction from you all from two words. He chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you as you hide your face in his chest, heat radiating from your cheeks.
Tension is ripe in the air between you both when you finally meet Sukuna’s intense gaze and it makes a question pop into your mind.
“How long?” The words are blurted out and Sukuna shifts beneath you to get a better view.
“What are you on about?”
“How long have you liked me?”
Sukuna’s scoff hits the air before he can even register he’s made the noise. “Go get ready or whatever so we can pick up your shit.” His brow is pulled into a tight scowl as he all but shoves you to the ground.
You barely manage to catch yourself before falling on your ass, rolling your eyes as you steady yourself.
“Kuuuna!” You coo with a grin, but before you have a chance to tease him any further, Sukuna lunges at you. “Wait, wait-”
You shriek in protest as he barrels into your legs, effortlessly lifting you over his shoulder. He pays no mind to any of your protests, nor your kicking and squirming against him as he dumps you with little grace on his bed.
“What-”
“Stop complainin’ and go change or shower or whatever y’ gotta do. I want your bike back.”
Sitting up as you attempt to reorient yourself, you blink a couple of times and manage to call his name out just before he’s turning away.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” you tell him, staring down at your pajamas.
“You’ve been leaving shit here for years, find something in my closet.”
“Have I?” You wonder aloud, suddenly realizing your hungover mornings passed in his apartment are likely the culprit for many missing outfits. “Wait, why do you want my bike back?” You realize suddenly, but he’s already shutting the door to his room and leaving you in tranquility.
Standing in the silence broken only by distant birdsong and the muffled sounds of traffic, you find your gaze lingering on the door where he once stood.
How long? You wonder to yourself. How many signs, how many signals had you missed or brushed off all these years under the assumption that your grumpy best friend was just that- your best friend?
You set a hand over your fast-beating heart, trying to steady the pace it’s beating at as emotions run rampant through you. Between the shock of realization of Sukuna’s feelings and the shitty night you’d had- your birthday, by the way- you can’t help the shaky exhale that parts your lips.
It’s a lot to take in.
You take your time showering, enjoying the way the warm water rinses away all signs of the prior night. It’s a warm respite from the days that are beginning to grow frosty as winter approaches. Most importantly, the white noise of the water falling drowns out the steady stream of jumbled thoughts flowing like a river through your mind.
Perusing Sukuna’s closet, you do manage to find more of your clothes than you had expected.
“My nice leggings were here the whole time?” You mutter to yourself as you pull them from a pile of pants. Along with them, you manage to find a pair of jeans, more shirts than you’d care to admit, an old jacket and a hoodie.
Pulling on a form-fitting black low-cut shirt and a red leather jacket, you poke your head out of the bedroom door.
“Why’d you never give any of this back?”
Sukuna’s leaning out the window with a cigarette held between two fingers. He blows a puff of smoke out into the cool fall air before turning to you. He’s still in his sweatpants but has pulled his shirt on.
“I used to bring ‘em back to your place when I visited but they always ended up back on my couch,” he shrugs simply. “Wasn’t worth the time.”
“I didn’t know it was this much clothing.”
“Your memory’s shit.”
“Ouch,” you hold a hand to your heart, feigning being hurt.
He stubs out the cigarette, waving the smoke out the window with his arm before shutting it. “Done in there?”
You nod and exchange places with Sukuna as he showers. He takes less than a quarter of the time you did and is out with the most effortlessly cool style that you can’t help but be jealous of him.
His typical black leather jacket hangs off his shoulders with a vintage Harley Davidson shirt beneath. He sports ripped jeans on his lower half and blackout shades sit atop his spiked pink hair.
“See something you like?”
You barely manage to utter out a pathetic ‘uh’ before Sukuna’s chuckling at you as he catches you eyeing him from your place on the couch. He makes his way around the couch, patting your shoulder encouragingly.
“Let’s go.”
Shaking your head to clear your mind, you get to your feet and follow Sukuna to the door, stopping him before he can leave.
“Hey. Can you stay on the sidewalk while I talk to him?”
The tall man pauses at your serious tone, examining your expression. “Why?”
You know why he’s asking.
“I’m serious, Ryo. I don’t want you two fighting.”
“He treated you like shit, y/n.”
“I- I know.”
His jaw clenches. “The piece of shit deserves-”
“I know, okay? Please, this is what I’m trying to prevent. Besides, if you get into trouble, I’ll leave your ass in jail this time.”
His head falls back, eyes closed as he comes to terms with just how serious you are. He rolls his shoulders backwards once before nodding. “Whatever, fine.” His tone drips with exasperation and anger and you can only hope at this point that he means what he says.
“Thank you,” you sigh in relief, falling into place beside him as he leads the way down to his bike.
Though you rode behind him less than twelve hours ago, somehow it feels different today as he places his helmet on you and pulls you tight to his broad form. His feisty little backpack, so cute in his helmet. He’s not oblivious to the way your hands roam his abs either as a smirk pulls at his features. It’s a sweet momentary distraction from his searing anger.
It takes every ounce of self control that Sukuna has to stay at his bike as he watches you ring the doorbell of your own house. Thank god for the cold air keeping his anger from simmering through his skin. He’s sure he’d be a pile of molten anger otherwise.
You shuffle uncomfortably at the doorstep, knowing entirely too well that this is going to go poorly. You were practically asking for a fight by showing up with Sukuna but what better option do you have? Your wallet and keys are still sitting soundly on the nightstand of the bed you’d spent the last several months sleeping in. At least, that’s where they should be.
It takes a moment before the door creaks open, your ex’s surprised wide eyes staring back at you.
“Shit, thank god you’re home-”
You barely manage to duck from his grasp as he attempts to pull you into his embrace. Your heart pounds hard in your chest as you face your ex, whose face contorts to one of pain when you duck away from him.
“I told you-” You mentally curse yourself as your voice breaks. Closing your eyes, you readjust and face your ex with confidence. “We’re done.”
“We need to talk,” he insists, his voice sickeningly sweet, and it almost makes you want to gag the way he swings between sweet nothings and manipulative cords that twist your heart.
“We talked for four hours last night. There’s nothing left to talk about!” You swing a hand through the air for emphasis as your voice rises, staring at him in disbelief. “Just let me in, I need my keys and-”
His arm swings out to block the door, knuckles white as he grips the frame of the door. His brow curls upwards in… frustration? Irritation? Anger? Pain? You’re not sure. “This is your home. You belong with me.”
You swallow the bile in your throat like a stone straight to the pit of your stomach. Once words like that would have made you swoon, now you feel as though you’re a deer in the headlights staring at a man you don’t recognize. A man who holds the barrel of a metaphorical gun.
You spare a glance behind you for reassurance, spotting Sukuna sitting at his bike. If it’s possible for a man to have smoke spewing from his ears, Sukuna is the spitting image of such a thing. His face is red with anger, hands clenched at either side of his body as he tries desperately to hold himself back.
He still remembers the way you excitedly told him about your new boyfriend. About how sweet he was, how kind he was. Although it pained him to know it was someone else making you happy, he was just glad you were happy. But when you had invited him to meet your boyfriend, Sukuna couldn’t help but feel as though the man didn’t match your description.
He’d tried to convince himself he was just being jealous, but the more time he spent around you, the more he noticed.
The last straw for Sukuna was when you had invited him, your boyfriend, and some of your closest friends along to see the latest installment in the Predator franchise. You’d stopped for dinner first and your boyfriend had insisted on ordering for you.
Sukuna hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but he had found it strange when a salad had been set in front of you. Not once had Sukuna ever seen you order a salad. Well, he had, but as a side. Never as the entire meal.
He’d tried to brush it off but when you’d decided on popcorn at the movie and your boyfriend had insisted you didn’t need it, Sukuna made a point of ordering a large one and sharing it with you.
Now as you look back at him uncertainly, every bone in Sukuna’s body screams to move. Yet his brain tells him to listen to you. He takes a breath in an effort to stay calm, deciding to respect your wishes.
“You brought him here?” Your ex pales as he follows your line of sight.
That seems to give you the confidence to face him again as anger sears through your blood. “You left me outside alone! He came to get me!” You search his face for any sign of remorse. When you don’t find it, tears prick at your eyes. Over a year spent together and he can’t even show you an ounce of kindness.
“I told you baby, it was a mistake!”
“No- No. No, a mistake is forgetting to turn off the sink, not leaving me outside in the cold with nothing but a broken phone.” Your voice drips with venom as the cold of the previous night envelops you in its memory, a reminder that this is for the best.
“Your phone isn’t broken, get over it y/n.” You glance down at his fist as it balls at his side.
“You shattered it.” You deadpan.
“Can we forget about the phone? For fuck’s sake.” He lifts his fist in the air to bring it up to his forehead as he attempts to calm himself down. “Look-” he shoots Sukuna a glance before smiling, his voice growing honeyed. “We’ll figure things out, okay? Why don’t you come in?”
You hesitate. You see the red flags as clear as day now that the fog has lifted, and you know Sukuna is grateful when you pleadingly look at him. His signal to come beat the shit out of your ex. Well, no, it isn’t. But he wishes it was.
Regardless, he’s up the front lawn to the door of the small house in an instant, standing behind you with all the self-control he can physically muster.
“We’re having a private conversation, would you mind-”
“Whatever you can say in front of me, you can say in front of him.” You insist, backing into Sukuna as your ex reaches for your arm. You’re thankful in this moment that your closest friend is nearly seven feet and built like a brick wall as it could never really matter who he’s up against, he’ll always be the scariest one in the room.
Your ex’s mouth curls into a snarl, eyeing Sukuna’s hands that rest easily on your upper arms.
“You’ve gotta be-” he grumbles to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his hand that isn’t blocking you from entering the house. “Come on baby, you know you belong with me and not-” he cuts himself off as he shoots Sukuna an icy glance.
You shift uncomfortably at the tone he uses as he says that you belong with him, growing uneasy the longer you’re in his presence. Steeling your resolve, you straighten yourself and muster as much confidence as you can.
“This isn’t about Sukuna. You left me outside in the cold last night and I called my best friend to get me,” you tell him without missing a beat. Sukuna is practically grinning behind you as your ex’s jaw clenches but you don’t see the exchange between the two men. “Oh, and I don’t belong with or to anyone.”
Sukuna squeezes your arm in reassurance.
“I need my keys and wallet. I’m taking my bike and some clothes.”
Your ex mulls over your words before relenting finally, just as you’re beginning to think you’ll be without belongings. “Fine, but he stays outside.”
You glance up at Sukuna, whose expression is unreadable. “Fine,” you agree, slipping from Sukuna’s grasp and into the house. Your ex goes to close the door in Sukuna’s face, but a steady hand stops him just as you dash out of sight into your old bedroom.
“Let go of the door, man.”
“Leave the door open, man,” Sukuna warns mockingly in a sneer.
“She’s my-”
“She’s not. She’s not yours. She doesn’t belong to you.”
“Go fuck yourself, Sukuna.” He rolls his eyes, pressing more of his weight against the door, but it’s nothing compared to the bulk Sukuna packs.
“Consider yourself lucky I’m not rearranging your face right now,” his deep eyes blaze as he leans closer to your ex, his words dangerously low. If ever Sukuna is thankful that he knows he’s a scary person, it’s right now as your ex flinches back and relents, leaving the door open and leaving Sukuna at the door.
Your ex disappears from Sukuna’s sight and he stands up straight, turning to the side as he stares at your bike. He knows you can handle yourself, but he still doesn’t love the prospect of you being alone with your ex for any period of time.
Sukuna especially hates how long it takes. He’s not sure how much you need to pack and he can’t make out whatever you’re talking about with your ex but each passing moment he grows less patient and less willing to wait outside.
Just as he’s thinking of stepping inside, he sees your tiny figure with a backpack and a suitcase, keys dangling from your fingers and your wallet held firmly in your hand. The relief on your face when you lock eyes with Sukuna is somewhat heartwarming, but what isn’t is the way your ex tries to grab your wrist as you make your way to the door.
You pull against him but his grip fastens.
Sukuna sees red. He sees red and he doesn’t think twice about stepping into what was once your house.
“Don’t touch her.”
Your eyes widen at the sight of Sukuna making his way towards you with gritted teeth. “No, no, no! Sukuna! It’s fine, I can handle this!” Your hand with your wallet and keys flies up as you maneuver yourself between him and your ex.
Your ex’s hand doesn’t loosen even when your arm physically blocks Sukuna from laying a beating on him.
You take a breath, looking between the two men. “I’m leaving. Please let go,” you say softly, so calmly it almost breaks Sukuna’s heart that your ex’s actions seem so normal to you.
“We aren’t done talking-”
“We are. I’ll be back for the rest of my things later.” You tug your wrist again, sending a pleading look to your ex, but his grip only tightens. “Please let go.”
“Y/n, please. Please, we can work this out.”
“Let go,” you tell him firmly, ignoring his words.
“Please-”
“I don’t know if you’re incapable of listening or if you just want your head bashed in, but I’d listen to her.” Sukuna’s voice is a warning, dripping with malevolence you’ve never heard from him before. His chest is pressed hard against your free hand and you aren’t sure you can hold him back much longer.
“Ryo,” you plead, looking between the two men as you try to pull your wrist again. Your ex’s hand twitches at Sukuna’s words before loosening and falling to his side. You breathe out a sigh of relief, glancing down at the bruising markings his fingers left behind.
“So he’s Ryo now, huh?”
You glare pointedly at your ex, knowing that one wrong word will have him with his face caved in.
Sukuna’s intense stare never once leaves your ex, but he does allow you to hand him your suitcase and gently tug his forearm to follow you out the door.
Your ex watches from the door as Sukuna follows you to your bike. His intent gaze has your hair standing on end but you choose to ignore the feeling in favor of hopping on your bike.
The sound of your bike roaring to life puts both you and Sukuna at ease and you ride down the driveway, stopping next to his bike. He jogs after you with your suitcase still in-hand.
Sukuna is quiet, which isn’t unusual for him but you can practically feel the anger coming off of him in droves like smoke. Kicking your bike’s stand out, you hop off and flip his Ducati’s storage compartment open, pulling out a couple of straps to secure your suitcase to the back of your bike.
“Ready?”
You pull your friend’s attention from your ex finally as your hand comes to rest on his bicep. His eyes travel from your face to your arm that rests on him, where he can see the way your wrist is reddened and sure to bruise.
Realizing the sight of your reddened arm has his jaw clenching with anger, you move it behind your back and out of sight.
“Kuna, please.”
His intense gaze examines yours as the breeze faintly ruffles his spiked hair. He’s completely still apart from the muscle working in his jaw as he thinks over his options at this moment, but his chest heaves as he sighs in exasperation and gives in.
“Whatever,” he growls, shooting a poisonous look back at the door that your ex hasn’t moved from. Sukuna haughtily pulls his helmet on over his head, flipping his visor down before getting on his bike and accelerating quickly.
Based on the way Sukuna weaves through traffic and carelessly speeds through lights, you know he’s furious. You pull your bike into the parking spot next to him a couple of minutes after he pulls in, finding him pacing in the parking garage.
Shutting off your bike and pulling off your helmet, you approach him with angled brows, trying to reassure him. “Thanks for coming with me, I appreciate it.” He’s blinded by rage and you’re not even sure if he hears you. “Kuna, I’m okay,” you insist, reaching out to put a hand on his arm but he still brushes past you.
Sighing, you unload your suitcase from the back of your bike and return the bungee cables to the storage compartment of the Ducati as you let Sukuna blow off some steam.
Once everything is ready to go up to Sukuna’s apartment, you turn your attention back to him.
“Can we go up to your place?”
“He hurt you,” Sukuna hisses with pupils the size of pinpricks. It would be intimidating if you didn’t know that anger was directed elsewhere.
“It’s nothing really, it doesn’t hurt.”
“Fucking asshole, I should have-”
“Nope, we’re not going into that. I don’t want to know what you think you should have done.”
You grab your suitcase and begin rolling it through the parkade to the elevator, relieved when you hear a frustrated grunt behind you and a pair of keys clinking. The ride up to his apartment is silent, shrouded in anger.
Really, you should be the angry one but if anything, you're more relieved. Relieved that you have someone like Sukuna to stay with, someone who’s so willing to come get you at three in the morning when you need him most.
Sukuna swings the door to his apartment open, slamming against the doorstop loudly before creaking shut. His hand flies to his pocket as he trudges across the apartment, tossing his leather jacket on the couch and leaning out the window as he lights a cigarette.
A puff of smoke leaves his mouth as he swings his head back with closed eyes.
Shaking your head, you decide not to give him a hard time for his bad habit and give him space as you busy yourself with setting the couch up nicely for yourself to sleep on given that you were now homeless, among other things.
Sukuna takes his time at the window, stubbing out his cigarette when it’s barely an inch long and finally approaching you from where you sit on the floor looking through your bag, taking inventory of what you have and what you’ll need to pick up eventually.
Your pretty face smiles up at him when his shadow blocks your view and he finds himself relaxing more from the sight of you than he had from the nicotine.
“Are you okay?” You tilt your head, noting that he seems more calm now and he nods.
“Should be askin’ you that.”
“I’m okay. I mean it,” you insist.
His eyes flicker down to your wrist again but he knows better than to doubt you and he knows you can handle the pain. Sitting down on the couch behind you, he leans back and watches you quietly.
“I got the things that were most important, but hopefully I can go back and grab everything else eventually,” you note, more to yourself than him. He still hums in acknowledgement. “Why’d you want my bike back so bad, by the way?”
Your friend leans forward on his knees. “So I can still go for rides with you.”
“What, do I make a bad backpack?” You tease with a grin that has Sukuna’s shoulders falling to his sides as his anger subsides completely.
“Hard to drive when you’re feelin’ me up, princess.”
Your lips purse as your cheeks redden, caught off-guard by his nonchalant smirk. You’d felt up his abs a bit during the ride to your old place, sure, but being called out still had the tips of your ears heating up.
You stubbornly avoid his gaze, going back to figuring out if you’d forgotten anything. Deep chuckles resonate from behind you as your new roommate ruffles your hair and gets to his feet.
“By the way we’re goin’ out tonight.”
You tilt your head, eyes following Sukuna as he saunters over to the fridge and pulls out an energy drink.
“Where’d you have in mind?” You ask curiously, not entirely sure you’re in the mood to go out.
“That new rom com movie or whatever that you wanted to see is showing tonight. I got tickets.” He reaches back into the fridge and pulls out your favorite beverage, tossing it to you.
You barely manage to catch it, mumbling a thank you. “I don’t really know if I’m up for it,” you admit, staring at the drink in your hands.
“I already bought the tickets,” he shrugs, laying back on the couch again. “Suck it up.”
Your nose wrinkles in distaste but you know it’s likely for the best that you’re out of the house so you do, in fact, suck it up.
It quickly becomes time for the movie and you find yourself back in the parking garage a couple of hours before sunset.
“Can you drive?”
“You gonna feel me up again?” Sukuna raises a brow at you, but a hint of a smirk pulls at his lips.
“... Can I?”
Your confidence catches him off-guard and he blanches, his lips parting as he stares at you. His eyes flicker to your lips and that single action has your heart beating fast and hard in your chest. The fluttering in your stomach as you wait for him to react is enough to make you wretch and you consider yourself lucky that he seems to pull himself together as his lips tug upwards into a sly grin.
He takes a step forward, dipping his head down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t stray too low while I’m drivin’.”
You’re left choking on air as Sukuna’s tone sends a jolt of electricity straight up your spine, setting your entire body ablaze. Your eyes trail the length of his body, pausing as you watch him pull his leather jacket over his thin white shirt. The way his muscles ripple and tense with each movement has you swallowing hard as you realize just how built and toned he really is.
You’re thankful you aren’t caught and are spared from Sukuna’s teasing as you hop onto the back of his bike, purposefully making a show of feeling up his abs. Moving from his pecs, across the peaks and valleys of each set of muscles, down until you take pause as you feel the waist of his pants connect with the tips of your fingers.
Sukuna groans, looking over his shoulder before he puts on his helmet. “Not while I’m driving, got it?”
You nod at him, batting your eyelashes sweetly. He huffs, adjusting the crotch of his pants before pulling his helmet on. He waits for you to follow suit before pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the theater.
Sukuna’s warmth is both a beacon of hope and a searing flame to your skin. A comfort and an exciting new idea to explore. You hold onto him tightly, your body melting into his heat as he drives much more carefully with you hooked onto him than he had earlier in the day.
Sukuna pulls into a spot by the front door of the theater and waits for you to let go before hopping off of the bike himself.
“Popcorn?” He asks you mildly, hands in his pockets.
“Um, that’s alright.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
“I don’t need popcorn.”
“Don’t need or don’t want?”
You pause, your brow knit as you silently question what he means, but Sukuna’s seen this play out before with your ex and he wants to break this habit.
“Do you want popcorn, y/n?”
You run a hand through your hair, exhaling quietly. “Yeah, it’d be nice.”
Sukuna nods, surprising you as he grabs not your forearm or bicep as he usually does, but your hand. His much larger, veiny hand folds over yours, his fingers tangling with yours. Your hand is so small in his and even the feeling of your hand against him feels like a reminder of just how cute you are to him.
Your cheeks are surely dusted in a red glow, but you don’t mind given the surprisingly pleasant eagerness in your chest.
With popcorn in-hand, Sukuna leads you into the theater, taking you to your seat and relaxing into the reclining chair. He lifts the arm rest between you, not once disconnecting your hands like it’s the most natural action in the world.
And in all honesty, it is. Everything with Sukuna is easy. It feels right. It feels right in a way you’re not familiar with and it’s exhilarating.
Given the cheesy scenario he set up for, you half-expect Sukuna to make a move during the movie, but his thumb simply continues to rub soothing lines over your knuckles.
It’s after the movie that he surprises you.
Bounding down the stairs ahead of Sukuna as you tug him along with you, you’re practically gushing about the movie that you’re positive he barely paid attention to. It isn’t his style of film but he doesn’t mind either way.
“-I mean come on, how can you not love Owen Wilson in that role?”
“Mm.”
“-and it’s so charming watching him start to learn and care about her world-”
“Mhmm.”
“-oh my god and when she realizes she loves him and she shows up at the tournament-”
“I’m glad you liked it.” Despite how little he has to say about the movie, he’s just happy you enjoyed it.
“-and when he gets her flooowers?-”
Sukuna chuckles as you continue to gush over the movie at him. Still hand-in-hand, he tugs you along, quietly listening to your rambles as he makes his way to his bike. His chest swirls with anticipation as you pay his actions no mind when he turns towards the storage compartment of his bike as you continue rambling on.
It takes only a moment for his hand to reach the delicate item he’s in search of, deftly wrapping two fingers around the dainty object. Keeping his hand behind him, he turns to you with a soft smile. Lidded eyes stare at you with mirth, an expression that isn’t typical for Sukuna, so your rambles begin to fade into silence as you tilt your head curiously at him.
“Flowers, hm?” He asks, pulling a beautiful, blooming red rose out from behind him. He holds it out to you, pulling you closer by the hand that’s still intertwined with his as you purse your lips in disbelief.
“I- I-” You stammer over your words as your mouth goes dry, eyes fixed on the gorgeous flower held in Sukuna’s fingers.
It’s almost a strange sight to behold- the same man you’d seen passed out on your couch dozens of times, the man you’d had to bail out of jail on more than one occasion, the same man who grumbled and complained every single time you went to Red’s Bar- now holding a dainty little rose for you.
“W- when did you even have time to get this?” You shake your head, it doesn’t matter. “Sukuna, this is so much I-”
His brows raise as your rambles begin again and although he’s flustered you more times than he can count over the years, he’s never seen you genuinely nervous like this.
“-you really didn’t have to do anything like this for me-”
“Y/n.”
“-taking me to the movies is already a big deal and I know the last day has been a hassle for you-”
“Y/n,” Sukuna chuckles this time, his grip on your hand tightening as he squeezes it in an effort to get your attention.
“-I didn’t get you anything, I don’t-”
“Y/n,” Sukuna leans down, capturing your lips against his. His lips are soft and the kiss is uncharacteristically sweet. His hand slides out of your grasp, sliding up your arm and coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you closer to him. He parts from your lips with a smirk. “Shut up, princess.”
You stare breathlessly at him, eyes flickering wildly between his eyes, his lips, before resting down on the rose again.
“Take the damn flower.”
“R-right!” You gingerly reach out, holding the stem as you bring it up to your nose. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know.”
“Well, someone had to,” it comes out as more of a grumble as his brow furrows, but his fingers curl into the skin of your waist as he speaks, betraying the meaning behind his words.
“Mhmm, someone.” You agree teasingly, smiling up at him. “Thank you, Kuna.” You rise up onto your tiptoes, resting a hand on his chest as you lean up to kiss him, just barely able to reach his jaw.
His chest vibrates in a content hum. “So short,” he mocks, tilting his head to meet your lips again. Pulling his other hand from his pocket, he pulls the flower from your fingers, setting it in the storage behind him and finding your waist to bring you flush against him.
Your hands slide up the length of his hard musculature until you find his neck. Your fingers tangle in the short hair at his nape and another hum slips from his lips, swallowed by your kiss.
He leans down to meet your height better as the kiss gains urgency, years of pent up emotions flooding from Sukuna’s every movement. His fingers curl into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer.
“Kuna?”
He grunts into the kiss, smirking against your lips when he slides a hand from your waist down to your hips.
“Can we-” you breathe out between kisses, “-go home?”
Sukuna parts from your lips, examining your expression with blown pupils, so wide you can barely see the deep color of his irises. He swallows hard, his chest rising and falling fast as he nods silently.
You let out a surprised squeal when he grabs you by the hips and effortlessly lifts you onto his bike.
“-can do it myself,” you insist but Sukuna doesn’t register your words, too caught up in the intoxication of your smell, your feel, your taste. He wants more.
Hopping on the bike in front of you, he waits for your helmet to be on before he starts his Ducati and throws his helmet on. Your hands take their place around his toned abdomen, sliding down without a moment’s thought.
“Behave,” Sukuna hisses loud enough that you hear him even over the sound of his bike’s engine. He doesn’t need your visor up to know you’re smiling innocently at him.
He clicks his tongue and speeds out of the parking lot back towards his apartment. Though he’s still more careful driving with his sweet little backpack clinging to him, you’re not oblivious to the fact that he is driving quicker than usual.
Relaxing against Sukuna’s toned back brings with it a comfort you haven’t felt in a long time. It’s strange, despite him speeding through traffic and the sparking tension between you both, it’s easy to close your eyes and relax against him.
It’s not a feeling you’ve had with your ex for a long time. Although you ignored the flags throughout your relationship and defended him when he didn’t deserve it, it wasn’t always that way, but Sukuna has always been a safe and worry-free escape from the world for you. Since the first day he drove into your life, since you first realized that Sukuna enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his.
He’s a hard book to read and an easy presence to be in.
Your eyes flicker open, not realizing you’d grown so relaxed holding onto him that he’d already pulled into his parking spot, parking beside your Kawasaki.
Sukuna instinctively moves to get off his bike, expecting you to follow him, but pauses when you move rather sluggishly behind him. Pulling his helmet off, he shakes his head in an effort to fix his hair before he eyes you over his shoulder.
“You gonna get off?”
To anyone else, it might come across as aggressive, but his tone is mild as ever.
“Sorry, Kuna.”
You exhale and push off the bike with a hand resting on Sukuna’s shoulder blade. He watches you curiously, tucking you under his shoulder and leading the way back up to his apartment.
Pulling out his keys in the elevator, he ducks his head to get a good look at your expression.
“Tired?”
“No! … Well, yeah, but I was just relaxing,” you tell him and he hums, his eyes swirling with mirth. You cross an arm over your chest, your breast pressing against your arm. His eyes flicker to the sight, pupils dilating as he swallows hard. “See something you like, Sukuna?”
Your lidded eyes and purring voice has the taller man teetering on the edge of self control. His mind reels with thoughts that aren’t appropriate for the elevator and the moment the door opens, he’s making his way to his apartment like a man on a mission.
Desire pools between your thighs at his eagerness, made more apparent in the way he fumbles at the door with his keys.
It’s not even a second after the door is closed and he maneuvers you against the door, helmets on the ground as his fingers move to flip the lock behind you before they travel up the side of your body, admiring your curves before he cups your face.
He captures your lips, hungry to taste you again. He wants to devour you, he wants to mark you and make you his. Your lips move in tandem with his, matching his fervor with equal eagerness.
Your fingers rake his chest, thumbs sliding over the length of his collarbones. The feeling of his broad chest beneath your hands drives you crazy and you press back against him, your breasts pressing against the expanse of his chest.
“Kuna, wait,” you breathe, chest heaving as you part from him. Vermillion irises lock on you as he pulls back, his fingers gripping your waist almost bruisingly. “This isn't…” You pause, your mouth opening and closing hesitantly.
“Out with it,” Sukuna encourages hoarsely.
You shoot him a wry smile at his blunt impatience. “This isn’t just a hookup for me, you know.”
He raises a brow at you. “You think that’s what this is for me?” You might even assume he sounds offended.
“No! No,” you clarify, shaking your head as your pretty eyes go wide. He rolls his shoulders, leaning his face closer to yours as he intently watches you. “I just… I-” you pause again, avoiding his intense gaze.
“It’s not a one night stand, y/n.” Sukuna’s pupils shrink as he speaks solemnly. He feels you relax in his grip, your eyes coming up to meet his. “Relax n’ let me take care of you.”
Your cheeks redden at your best friend’s boldness and you shuffle as you press your thighs together.
“I better not be your rebound, y’know.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice now, the elbow holding him up against the door sliding down as his face grows closer to you. God, he’s tall. He’s tall and built like a monster, and between the size of his hands, his muscles, not to mention his height… Your wide, almost timid eyes flicker down to his crotch. He catches the action and smirks. “Don’t get nervous now,” he leers.
“I’m not!” You squeak, the blush spreading to the tips of your ears. “And… you’re not a rebound.” You grab his shirt collar as you pull him in for a kiss, much sweeter than the covetous one you’d shared a minute ago.
Sukuna’s eyes flutter shut as he finds himself relaxing into your touch when you slide your hands up his neck and into his dark, undyed undercut.
“I like you, Ryo.” You admit when you pull back just enough for the words to reach his ears. His smirk can be felt against your lips.
“Fuck, you’re hot.” In true Sukuna fashion, that’s his way of reciprocating your admission, because he doesn’t do feelings. But you know. You know exactly what he means.
You grin against his lips, giggling like a giddy school girl who’s just seen her crush smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles at your sudden timid delight.
“You’re such a loser,” he chuckles, his hand moving from your waist to hold your chin. He kisses you softly, your giggles persisting against his lips. Your fingers curl gleefully in his hair when he pulls back with impishly narrowed eyes. “You’re makin’ it hard to kiss you.”
“Sorry,” you chirp, your eyes crinkling in the corners. “It’s just cute- you’re cute.”
“Me?” He pulls back, standing at his full height and making a point of showing off his broad shouldered stance. “Cute?” He tilts his head quizzically as if to prove a point but if anything, you find the strands of hair falling out of place over his forehead cute.
“Yeah, you.”
“I’ll show you cute,” he grumbles, and suddenly you’re lifted off the ground effortlessly. You shriek in surprise in his ear as you grasp at the back of his leather jacket. He mumbles something about you being a brat before dumping you on the couch and crawling over your body.
His form looms over you and you’re both suddenly very aware of the immense size difference between you both, something which might be one of Sukuna’s favorite things. He loves how tiny you are, how easily he can handle you.
Sukuna takes pause, his usually dour gaze filled with longing, admiring what he’d wanted for so long as you stare back at him with wide eyes. He loves the fiery attitude you always sport, but this flustered side of you is new to him and he drinks it in like a drug.
Your chest rises and falls quickly, eyes darting from his arms that cage you in, down the expanse of his chest that peeks through his V-neck, back up to that alluring tattooed face. His sharp jaw, his ever-present smirk, his intense stare, it’s all so goddamn sexy and you’re flustered to silence like a deer in the headlights being hunted by a wolf.
“Funny, you seem to have lost your bark,” he comments tantalizingly, dipping down to kiss your jaw. Now with your body trapped beneath him, he feels the way your hips twitch. “What happened to the brat from earlier?”
You swallow down a moan as his voice sets you ablaze. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, fingers gripping him tightly. You take a breath to readjust and bat your lashes up at him as you push through the sudden nerves that seem to chase you. “Brat? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kuna.”
Sukuna grins, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “There she is,” he hums, bringing himself down to his elbows to kiss you wholly. His lips move urgently against yours, tongue swiping your lower lip almost immediately. He groans when you grant him access by parting your lips, drinking in your taste. You gasp in surprise as his tongue piercing grazes your tongue, a strangely pleasurable new feeling.
Your hands slide from his biceps up his neck, keeping him close, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. When you shift beneath him to clench your thighs as heat pools in your lower abdomen, he groans.
“Fuck,” he hisses into your mouth, catching you by surprise when he nips your lower lip. He pulls back for only a moment but in that split second the look on your best friend’s face tells you everything you need to know. You’re his prey, and he’s about to devour you.
“Kuna-!” You gasp in surprise when kisses down the side of your neck, leaving behind purple bruises as he sucks and nips at the side of your neck. Reaching the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, his teeth graze your skin before gently sinking in, testing the waters with a glance at your face.
You whine, squirming beneath him.
Sukuna withdraws with a smirk, running his tongue soothingly over the reddened skin. “Kinky little thing, aren’t you?” He purrs, rolling his hips against you so roughly you whimper. “Shit,” he mumbles and returns to his ministrations, his hips rolling against yours like a dog in heat.
“Sh-shut up, Kuna…” you groan, rutting your hips up into him. His movement stutters with pleasure and he nips your skin again in response. “Darlin’, hold onto me,” his husky voice commands against the skin of your ear.
“Hm? Ah-!”
Sukuna slides a muscular arm beneath the small of your back, pressing you to him and urging your arms to cling to his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist as he picks you up, holding your small frame to him in one arm.
He carries you to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him as you press kisses to his collarbone, leaving behind marks of your own. He hums, plopping you down onto the bed and standing to shrug his jacket off and unbuckle his belt, letting it and his jeans drop to the floor.
You’re sure your face is red as a tomato, pupils dilated as you admire his body, your gaze landing on the boner that’s pulling the fabric of his black Calvin Klein boxers taut. You swipe your tongue out over your lips, bringing your lower lip between your teeth.
Your best friend grins, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. You let out a surprised gasp, gripping at the sheets at either side of you.
“G’nna take my time n�� treat her right,” he purrs, falling over you as your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer. He could be talking about you or your pussy, it doesn’t matter either way.
He lifts your shirt up over your head and you arch your back to make it easier. You’re so pliant for him and he adores your obedience, adores the desperate, lustful look in your eyes.
“Shit, girl,” he mumbles, his eyes eating you alive on the spot as he admires your body. You’re so small in comparison to the way his figure looms over you.
Catching your gaze, he squeezes one of your breasts, slipping the other from the fabric of your lace bra to press the warm flat of his tongue to your nipple. You jolt as pleasure buzzes through your body, moaning when he sucks the hardened bud between his lips. The cool metal of his piercing intensifies the pleasure when it grazes your skin and causes goosebumps to raise on your arms.
Your hands find his hair, tugging enough that Sukuna smirks against the plush of your skin.
“So needy,” he hums. Your thighs clench around his waist as the vibration of his voice against your skin rocks through you.
Your lidded eyes stare down at him and you take the opportunity to tug his shirt off. He complies, tossing it across the room. His heavily tattooed chest, abdomen, arms- he’s gorgeous and you can barely believe he’s standing over you right now, eyes for only you.
“Kuna,” you mumble between moans, jerking as he flicks your nipple with a smug grin.
He mutters out a ‘what’ before sinking his teeth into your breast. You gasp, eyes widening and bucking your hips against him as your head swings back into the mattress. As you arch your back for him, Sukuna deftly slips your bra off.
“Stop being a tease,” you plead, the hard length of his cock twitching against your core as you tighten your legs.
“A tease? What do you want then, hm?” His voice is cocky, knowing. He wants you on your knees begging.
“Kunaaaa,” you groan, laying the back of your arm across your eyes, suddenly timid.
Sukuna clicks his tongue, pulling your arm away from your face. He grabs your other arm and holds them both down above you with one large hand. “What do you want, brat?” His face is inches away from yours now and he rolls his hips against your core teasingly despite the ache he feels.
“I-” you pant, pausing to look at his intense stare. “Wan’ you to eat me out.”
“Yeah?” He hums, lowering his head so that his lips brush yours. “Thought you had manners?”
“Please, Kuna,” you beg in a whiny voice. Sukuna smirks, getting to his knees at the edge of the bed and draping his arm over your hips to hold them down as he sprawls your legs out before him.
“Fuckin’ soaked for me,” he groans, his breath warm against the fabric of your panties. He wastes no time hooking his fingers through the fabric to pull them aside. His digits brush your folds as you buck your hips in a desperate attempt at friction.
Chuckling softly, Sukuna languidly licks up your cunt, savoring your taste with the slow movement. You squirm beneath him, raking your fingers through his hair as you try to buck your hips towards his tongue.
“Patience,” Sukuna hums and flicks his tongue out to circle your clit. His piercing grazes the sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes go wide with pleasure.
“Such a- hah- asshole- ah-!” Sukuna doesn’t give you the satisfaction of teasing him as he pushes his long tongue into your dripping chasm, your walls clenching around the muscle in ecstasy.
Sukuna groans as your fingers tug his hair. He lets you buck your hips into his mouth and ride his face, relishing in the sound of your moans and pants.
The feeling of his tongue inside you is already so intense that when he brings a thumb up to flick your clit, the sudden desire that pulses through your body straight to the knot tightening in your core has you bucking your hips in surprise. His grip on your hips fastens as he holds you down again, keeping you from squirming out of his grasp.
The desire and heat pooling in your core quickly grow in intensity as Sukuna’s experienced tongue plunges through your folds, drinking up your arousal.
“K-Kuna- I- I’m gonna-” your words are mere babbles as you try to speak through the bliss, your orgasm steadily approaching.
“Let me taste it, princess.”
The feeling of his voice with his tongue within you, the way his piercing suddenly flicks your gummy walls, his thumb on your clit, the way he calls you princess, it’s so much that your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, causing your body to jolt and jerk against the mattress.
Sukuna’s thumb leaves your clit as he holds down one of your thighs to keep you from crushing his head as you moan and pant out his name while your body spasms. He slows his ministrations to drink every last drop of your orgasm before flicking your clit with his tongue one last time, pleased when you jolt.
He pushes himself up, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand.
“Shit, you’re hot,” he mutters. You barely have a moment to come down from your high before he’s pulling you to the floor by your waist, dropping you on your knees. His hungry expression and throbbing cock tell you everything you need to know as you look up at him through your lashes.
Your fingers curl around the waist of his boxers as you pull them down his thighs. His rock-hard erection slaps against his abs as you free it from the confines of the fabric. Sure, Sukuna is a monster of a man at nearly seven feet tall of solid muscle mass and you’d felt him grinding against you, but your eyes still widen at the sight of his cock.
You feel your mouth water as you stare at the angry red tip, veins protruding and pulsing with desire on either side.
“Think you can take it?” He asks and although it’s a teasing and husky tone he uses with you, he is genuinely asking as well. You nod eagerly and he grins. “Good girl,” he purrs.
Bringing a hand up to his cock, you wrap your fingers daintily around the thick base, looking up at those glimmering vermillion eyes as you run your tongue from base to tip, eliciting a heavy groan from the man.
“Christ,” he groans, his head flying back in pleasure. You smirk and take the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the leaking slit before teasingly pulling back with a pop!
His hips shudder as he does everything in his power to stop himself from using your mouth, to stop himself from shoving his cock down your throat with no warning.
“Needy, Ryo?”
You don’t expect the way that sets him off, lights his desire ablaze anew as he fists your hair and leans down with a clenched jaw to look you in the eyes.
You whimper in surprise, closing your thighs from where you sit on your knees as your cunt pulses from the way he handles you so roughly.
“Let’s get it straight right now which of us is needy,” he growls with a smirk, eyeing the way you shift your thighs. “You gonna be a good little slut for me?”
You nod up at him, pupils dilating as he tugs your hair. He grins, narrowing his eyes. “Words, woman.”
“Yes, Kuna,” you purr back at him. The wild look in his eyes intensifies as he receives your consent and pushes the tip of his cock past your lips. His jaw goes slack in pleasure as you swirl your tongue around the head, lapping up his precum.
“Shit,” he groans out, watching as you take his cock without breaking eye contact while he thrusts further into your mouth. You gag when he reaches the back of your throat, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes and you shut them as you take his length. “Ah ah, look at me. Takin’ me so well.”
Sukuna knows you can’t take his entire cock in your mouth, he knows there’s a fairly large size difference between the both of you. It doesn’t stop the way he pushes your head down on his cock watching the way tears run down your cheeks as you so obediently let him handle you.
Saliva runs down the length of his cock and you bring a hand up to the base, pumping what you can’t fit in your throat. His hand pulls your mouth off his cock, adjusting his hand to hold your head back against the bed so that he can relentlessly fuck into you, massive cock hitting the back of your throat and gagging you with each thrust.
He throws his head back as you pump the base of his shaft while he fucks you, being his perfect little doll. His abs flex and twitch when your muscles tense as you swallow around him.
“Such a nasty fuckin’ throat.” He barely gives you any time to breathe as his pace increases, along with the pace of your hand to match. His chest heaves as he moans, letting you dig your nails into his thigh for purchase while he uses your throat.
His cock twitches as you moan when he hits the back of your throat and his eyes shut tight with pleasure, jaw going slack. When he jolts again with the next thrust, you know he’s close so you hum contentedly, sending vibrations up his shaft and causing his hips to jerk erratically as he chases his high.
“F-fuck,” he groans out before his hips stutter and your eyes widen when his cum unloads down your throat, thick ropes of salty sweet arousal swallowed as he keeps himself warm within your mouth. You move your lips slowly around his girth, milking every last drop of his orgasm. You pull back after a moment to allow yourself a chance to breathe, panting as you stare up at him.
His chest heaves and his cock twitches every few seconds, telling of the orgasm he’s just had. Still, his eyes burn with desire when he finally opens them.
He reaches down to pick you up and sets you at the edge of the bed on all fours roughly.
He squeezes your ass before slapping it once. Your body jolts in surprise as you gasp.
“Princess, you on any birth control?”
“Mhmm, you can go raw.”
You hear him mumble a curse beneath his breath. “You tell me if it’s too much,” he tells you, catching the way you glance over your shoulder at him and nod.
In spite of the rough way he uses and handles you, he’s still very attentive to your pleasure and comfort.
He pays no mind to the fact that you actually liked the panties you’re wearing as he physically tears them off of your body, tossing the ripped fabric aside. You whine in complaint, shooting him a look from over your shoulder.
“I’ll buy ya new ones,” he huffs, returning his attention to your body.
Squeezing your ass in both palms, he leans down and buries his face in your pussy, licking a stripe from your clit to your dripping entrance. He hums at how wet you still are, moving a hand up your spine to hold you down and keep you arched for him.
His teeth sink into the plump of your ass and you squeak at the sudden burst of pain that quickly twists to pleasure when he soothingly laps over the mark he’s left.
He slides his hand down from squeezing your plump ass to glide a finger through your lubricated folds. You lean into his touch, gasping when he suddenly plunges one long finger into your lubricated pussy.
Your walls are tight as they pulse around his long finger. He eases another digit in, pumping them slowly as he realizes just how tight you are.
“Relax, darlin’,” he hums soothingly, curling his fingers against your walls a couple of times before he finds your g spot. His voice is such a stark contrast to his rough tendencies, but it’s soothing to have him so worried for your comfort.
“Ryo, f-fuck-” you moan out as his fingers languidly curl against your gummy walls which gradually relax against his long fingers. With a couple more pumps of his fingers, he pulls them out, leaving you pulsing around nothing and craving his touch as you shift your hips in search of friction with a whine.
Sukuna grunts when he lines himself up with your plump cunt, pumping himself a couple of times before he slowly eases his tip into you. Your eyes widen at the delicious burn of the stretch, fingers curling in the sheets as you adjust to his massive size. And god this is only the tip.
You cry out, the feeling of his girthy cock filling you up blurring your vision as the pain transitions to pleasure before the process begins all over again with each movement he makes. His cock throbs, making you feel impossibly full.
Sukuna wants to ruin you, he wants to tear you apart on his cock, but he doesn’t want to hurt his sweet little best friend, so he watches the way your face contorts in mild pain, waiting for your expression to relax as he slowly feeds you his cock, inch by inch.
“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’,” Sukuna purrs, his thumb stroking your back in contrast to the fact that he’s still holding you down and keeping you arched for him.
His cock head brushes your cervix, pressing against it as he bottoms out, fingers curling against your back at how tight you’re squeezing him as he waits for you to adjust.
Your shoulders relax beneath his touch and you whimper as he slides his cock out to the tip, setting a moderate pace so as not to shock you. The feeling of his thick, veiny cock is like nothing you’ve ever experienced, his size just so much to take that you moan and whine with each thrust of his cock into your tight hole.
You grip at the sheets beneath you, gasping as Sukuna speeds up his thrusts and presses you hard into the mattress, muffling your moans.
“Kuna- mmph,” you let out a muffled whimper, jolting when he slaps your ass roughly, no longer holding back.
“F-fuckin’- shit-” he groans, his fingers gripping your skin bruisingly as he holds you in place. He leans forward, sliding his hand from your back to your neck, restricting your airflow subtly. Pleasure tears through your spine as he leans forward and pushes in deeper with each thrust, pulling moans and screams of his name from deep in your throat.
“K-Kuna, I’m- hah- close,” you whimper, words muffled by the sheets beneath you. He loosens his fingers from your neck, grabbing your waist with both hands as he pulls your ass closer to him, pounding into you faster as he chases his own high.
“Shit, y’r such a good lil slut for me,” he groans, feeling your walls tighten around his thick length with each thrust.
Pleasure tightens deep within your core, knotting and curling as he fucks you so deliciously that your juices are already dripping from your cunt around his hilt. His eyes lock on the sight and he throws his head back in pleasure, his own high not far behind.
With one last hit against your cervix, your orgasm hits you like a goddamn truck, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before as your entire body shakes and jolts, your knees and legs giving out.
If Sukuna wasn’t holding you up, you surely would have collapsed as stars cloud your vision and you moan his name like a mantra. Your eyes are glossy and your mind delirious as he continues to fuck you through your high, your walls milking him in a way that has him quickly climbing towards his release.
With only a few more erratic thrusts that have you whining under him in overstimulation, his cock twitches suddenly as his entire load fills you up, mixing with your juices and dripping out of your swollen lips down your thighs that Sukuna is still holding up.
He moans as he slowly lets your body go and you sink to the mattress, panting beneath him as his cock slips from between your thighs. His eyes flicker to your pretty pussy, his cum leaking out with each pulse of your walls. His chest heaves as well as he slowly gets to his feet and walks to the side of the bed, sliding up against the headboard.
Sukuna pulls your body up from where you’ve collapsed, wrapping his arms around you as his sweat-slicked skin sticks to yours. He’s much gentler now, looking you over for any signs that he might have hurt you accidentally, but when you finally open your eyes, they’re glossy with pleasure and filled with adoration.
He can’t help the way he genuinely smiles, not a common thing for the tepid biker, but when you grin and giggle in return, it makes his heart jump.
He practically turns to putty in your hands and as you silently bask in the afterglow of the best sex of your life and lean into Sukuna’s embrace.
“Wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” He asks after a moment and you’re surprised by the way his fingers softly graze your skin.
“You were great Kuna, don’t worry,” you answer, yawning afterwards.
He hums in relief, leaning his head back for a moment before taking it upon himself to get you cleaned up before you pass out. Grabbing a towel, he wipes your thighs and tosses the towel in a hamper at the edge of the room before pulling the covers over your figure and crawling in behind you.
“Ryo?”
Sukuna hums quizzically.
“Do I get to know how long now?”
“You’re a brat,” he growls in your ear as he pulls you flush against his chest, his arms folded around your middle.
“Yeah yeah, just answer the question,” you grouse, rolling your eyes. You have an inkling of a feeling that you know when he realized his feelings for you, but you’re curious nonetheless.
He sighs, knowing you’ll never let him live this down. “Dunno. It’s been a while,” he avoids the question.
You flip in his arms to face him with raised brows. He groans, avoiding your gaze.
“I guess around the time you got with your ex,” he admits, his eyes locked on the wall behind you as he tucks your head under his chin to avoid your intent gaze.
“Is that why you stopped seeing people?”
“You noticed?”
“Kuna, you had a new girl under your arm every time I saw you for a while.”
He grunts, pulling you tighter to his body.
Giggling, you kiss his collar bone. “That’s sweet.”
Sukuna’s chest rises and falls heavily as he lets out a long sigh. You can practically feel the way his cheeks are heating up as you tease him, something that you’d only managed a handful of times in all the years you’ve known him.
“Sorry, am I embarrassing the big bad motorcycling bad boy?” You push, squeaking in protest as Sukuna wastes no time in shoving you away from him in an attempt to push you off the bed. “Wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry!” You insist, looking to him for mercy as you cling to his arms, clutching desperately at the flexed muscles.
“And?”
“And…” you search for the words he’s looking to hear in his eyes, gripping his arms tighter. “I won’t do it again?”
“And?”
“I’m sorry I ate the rest of your leftovers this morning?”
His brow furrows. Oh shit.
“I mean… no I didn’t. They’re still there,” you mumble, avoiding his judgemental gaze guiltily.
Sukuna’s hold on your shoulder begins to lax as you teeter at the edge of the bed, threatening to drop you to the floor. You scramble to try to grip him tighter.
“I’ll buy you new food!”
Sukuna sighs and drags you back to him. You let out a relieved puff of air against his chest, snuggling back into his warmth. “Jus’ wanted you to say when it was for you.”
You tilt your head up at him, only able to see his chin. “When what was?”
“You know. When you realized what you think of me or whatever.” Sukuna’s gruff tone is telling that he isn’t used to such sincere conversations. Although you’ve known him a long time and he’d told you about damn near every sexual encounter he’s had, Sukuna’s most record-breaking relationship was a shocking three months.
Of course, Sukuna isn’t a romantic, and she didn’t know him well enough to know that he was putting in effort, so it didn’t last long.
“Oh. When I realized I like you?”
He grunts.
You hum in thought, moments throughout your friendship scrolling through your mind like a slideshow.
Of course, your forefront thought is when Sukuna first stepped off that stupidly well taken care of Ducati and surprised you when he managed to not only get you home on a running bike, but let you buy him a drink. He’s always been ridiculously attractive, but no, those weren’t feelings.
You think of all the times you hung out with friends and they would point out his change in behavior. You’d always think on the statement, watch the way that aloof look of his turns mild when he faces you, but you didn’t want to think about it too much.
You ponder on the time you’d called him on a whim early in your friendship when your date had bailed on you. Sukuna did not want to see the cheesy romance movie you had tickets for, but he’d sucked it up and shown up. You’d offered to buy him dinner as a thank you, but he paid regardless. It was the kind of thing a real date would do, but he’d complained so much you brushed the thought away.
When you were entirely too obsessed with Game of Thrones and insisted he be your king in a big fur cloak for Halloween, maybe then something had changed.
“You want me to be some guy from the show you like?” He’d grumbled and guffawed over having to dress up at all, insisting he’d been planning to put in minimal effort.
“Pleaaase, Kuna?” You were practically on your knees by the time he’d agreed with a roll of his eyes. “You’d make a good Robb Stark,” you insist before second-guessing yourself. “Well, if he was grumpy and kind of a dick.” You shrug, grinning up at him as he shoots you a begrudging look through narrowed eyes.
It only takes you a few days to put together the costume given the abundance of medieval king and knight costumes around.
His arms cross over his rugged chest, the fabric of his shirt pulled taut by the movement. “You can’t be serious.” He stares at the tight faux leather coat you hand him with a scowl.
“He wears something similar!”
“I’m not wearing this.”
“Please, you said you would!” You pout at him as you sport your best puppy dog eyes.
“No.”
You jut your bottom lip out, taking a step towards him as you shove the leather top to his chest. His eyes narrow, gears turning in his head until he shuts his eyes, giving in.
Your eyes light up as he pulls the top from you, groaning as he pulls it on over his shirt. It’s tight on him, which you expected given Sukuna’s sheer size, but it’s a strangely hot look on your rugged best friend. Even more so when he lets you drape the cape over his shoulders and set a cute little crown on his head.
“No, absolutely not,” he hisses, slapping your hand away when you try to clip the crown in place with a bobby pin.
“You’re such a pain,” you tease as you try again, holding an extra pin between your teeth.
Standing back, you admire your work as you receive a very unamused look in return. Sukuna’s build makes for a very kingly stature in spite of the contrasting tattoos and it makes him hot. In fact, you’re half afraid someone will whisk him away at the Halloween party given how nicely he’s cleaned up.
Your lips twitch downwards at the thought. You don’t want him to be whisked away. You want your king by your side.
“So?”
Snapping you from your thoughts, your eyes light up again. “You look great,” you tell him with a grin. His eyes flicker with something you don’t recognize.
He hums, examining your expression. “Well, go get ready then. Gonna sweat through all this leather n’ shit.”
“Oh like you aren’t used to leather,” you roll your eyes, but you oblige, getting your matching Talisa Stark outfit on.
When you return to Sukuna sitting on his couch, you muster your best impression of your character. “My king?”
Your best friend’s attention turns to you, eyes widening as you approach him in a floor-length queen’s gown with a matching gray cloak and a crown pinned into your hair. “Shit, y’ look good,” he breathes out.
Your cheeks heat up and you scratch at the back of your neck. “Thanks, Kuna.” You clear your throat and your mind to the best of your ability as you offer him a hand. “Ready?”
He hums, taking your hand before grabbing his keys and offering you his arm. “My queen?”
You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the first spark. The first real spark. As he loosened up throughout the night and repetitively called you his princess, you knew you were spent. Each and every time he used the name had you giggling up a storm and while you’d brushed it off as intoxication at the time, you knew the truth deep down.
So when he’d returned to his aloof self the following morning, you swallowed down your feelings.
You couldn’t bear the thought of losing your best friend and he didn’t have a good track record with relationships. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared, even now.
“Halloween,” you utter finally, unsure of just how long you’ve been silently contemplating an answer in his arms.
“Figures,” his chest rumbles in brief laughter.
“You knew?”
“Nah, thought it was the alcohol.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. That’s why I started dating other people.”
Sukuna doesn’t respond but he buries his face into the crown of your head, drinking in your warmth, your intoxicating scent, and your soft skin against his as he closes his eyes.
No more other people, you’re his.
“Was it me callin’ you my princess?” He asks of the night you realized you’d caught feelings.
“That, and you make a good Robb Stark.”
He snorts. “I remember being told I was a dick.”
You shrug, smiling against the warm skin of his chest. “I don’t retract that statement.”
He presses a kiss to the top of your head and warmth spreads through your body as you relax against him, eyes closing as exhaustion spreads across you like a warm blanket. You know the kiss is a sassy retort, but it shamelessly works on you.
“Fine. I retract my statement.”
“That’s my princess.”
–
“Can you stop moving so much?”
Unsurprisingly, Sukuna’s got an attitude today and he absolutely plans on making it your problem as he huffs.
Your gloved hands work carefully to thoroughly cover every last strand of his short hair with dye. You know very well the only reason he’s being such a menace today is because you’d suggested a change in color and he’s afraid it’ll look bad.
In all your years of knowing him, he’s always had the same pink hair, so you were thrilled he was allowing you the honor of dying it back to its original color, black. You’d actually insisted on orange or red, but black was the only thing he was willing to compromise on.
You make your way back around him and find his scowling face looking up at you. Covering the last few strands of hair over his forehead, you boldly sit on his lap.
His demeanor changes in an instant as you straddle him and his hands eagerly find your hips and begin roaming up your waist and back down to your thighs. You shoot him a warning glance as you accidentally smudge some black dye on his forehead, but he pays you no mind as he continues his ministrations.
“Kuna,” you warn sternly, trying to wipe off the black marking before it leaves a stain, but it’s too late. You sigh and look over your work.
“Just a quickie, c’mon,” he insists with a grin.
“I don’t want to be covered in black dye,” you retort and Sukuna groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “How long do I gotta wait?”
“Thirty minutes.”
He frowns, eyes following your movements as you pull off your gloves and throw them in the trash of your shared apartment. He can’t for the life of him tear his eyes from you as you proceed to wash your hands before grabbing a damp towelette to wipe at his forehead.
Suddenly feeling like a child as you take care of the marking on his forehead, he swats at your hand.
“You’re a menace,” you mutter, avoiding his hand with practiced precision as you wipe away any traces of hair dye from his face.
He smirks, he likes the way you tease him and if anything it only makes him want to bend you over the table more.
Still, when you pull back to inspect his face and leave a gentle peck on his lips, he knows you don’t mind his attitude.
You know it’s all a ruse of sorts. Not around others, but around you it is.
Dating him for so many years came with its fair share of complications, especially given that Sukuna’s communication skills were about as good as those of a rock. He often didn’t pick up on small signs that you were bothered by things and vice versa, as he’s a tough book to read.
Regardless of any small arguments, nothing ever got out of hand surprisingly. You can’t imagine your life if Sukuna hadn’t shown up to get you the night your ex kicked you out. What Sukuna lacked in the department of emotional understanding, he made up for with his actions.
Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.
Each and every ‘I love you’ is met with a kiss, a squeeze of your arm, a tug towards him.
Sukuna has his own way of showing you he loves you.
He picks you up from work with flowers, shocking those around you when the grumpy-looking tattooed man hands you flowers that surely won’t make it home in great condition on his bike, but it doesn’t matter.
He runs you a bath when he fucks you into oblivion and your legs give out. It may be his own hand that inflicted your weakness, but it doesn’t matter because he shows you just how much he cares for you through his aftercare routine.
He makes your coffee with far too much milk and sugar for his own taste and complains about it the whole time, but it doesn’t matter because he still does it every morning for you.
Sukuna loves you, and he knows that you’re aware of it.
When it comes time to wash his hair, he closes his eyes when you help him wash it in the sink. Your fingers move so delicately, taking care to wash out all the dye.
When he dries his hair with a towel and sees the way you delight at the sight of his freshly jet-black hair, he chuckles.
“Why do you never grow your hair out?” You ask, running your hands through his spiked hair. The color suits him and brings out his eyes in the most stunning way, you’re sure you have stars in your eyes from the way you’re staring at him.
“Dunno. The other color looks good,” he shrugs.
“It does!” You agree with a grin, “but so does this!” You insist. “It’s hot.”
He hums, looking himself over in the mirror. In truth, he doesn’t mind it. He only really indulged you because you’d insisted, but it worked out given what he had in mind for the night. It would look good in photos.
“When is Shiu getting here?” You ask curiously, interrupting Sukuna’s thoughts as your short arms wrap around his middle from behind.
“Hour from now.”
You gasp suddenly. “I need to clean up.”
“I can clean you up,” Sukuna smirks, lifting his arms in an attempt to see your face from where you stand behind him.
“Kunaaa,” you whine. “I need time to get ready.”
He groans dramatically. “Fine,” he grumbles, watching as you prance away happily to get ready.
You, Sukuna, Choso, Toji, Shiu, and Uraume were all going out in celebration of Toji’s newest addition to his family, a young boy. It was surprising that he was the first to settle down, but when you’d met his wife, you could see that she was his world, the way he relaxed at her touch and his own edge calmed in the same way Sukuna’s does around you.
Sukuna lays on his bed, watching as you choose a gorgeous black dress that hugs your curves so delectably that he wants to tear it off of you then and there. The whole time, he fumbles with something in his pocket, grateful when you don’t notice the small box accidentally fall from his grasp and onto the bed.
You chat with him about your work the whole time. Sukuna’s mind is elsewhere but given that he’s never all that chatty, you don’t notice. Looking yourself over in the mirror, you let out a relieved breath when you manage to be ready with only a couple of minutes to spare.
“Y’ look gorgeous.” Sultry words are whispered in your ear, followed up by a kiss to your neck as your boyfriend comes up behind you. His hands rest softly on your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder, bending down to your height.
You watch his actions from the mirror, the way his lidded eyes look over the curves of your figure, the way he slides his arms so delicately around your middle to envelop you in a tight hug, it’s these moments that you treasure the most.
The quiet moments where you simply enjoy one another’s presence.
Your lives are so busy that you don’t always get time to yourselves, so melting into his arms in that moment, you wish it would last forever.
Of course forever is a long time, and Shiu certainly doesn’t have the patience to wait in his car that long for you both. You’re not entirely sure why Sukuna doesn’t want to take your bikes, but you don’t push the subject. Your boyfriend’s mind is a mysterious place.
Your group gathers at a restaurant that’s a bit fancy for everyone’s tastes, but Uraume had insisted on it given the occasion. The real surprise was that Sukuna had dressed up a bit as well, sporting a sleek black pair of slacks, a black long sleeve button-up, and a red tie. His ensemble went well with your black dress.
Over the years, Sukuna’s friends had become your friends, long before you started dating, even.
Choso and Yuji were like your little brothers, and Uraume and Toji your closest drinking buddies. They got along surprisingly well with your friends too, especially Choso and Yuji who, unlike Sukuna, seemed to have a talent for getting along with everyone. Shiu generally only tagged along when Toji was around, but their banter was always welcome.
As Toji shows off photos of his son Megumi alongside his daughter Tsumiki, you notice Sukuna whispering something to Choso, casting oddly uneasy glances in your direction. Frowning, you glance over yourself once as though there’s something wrong with your outfit. No… it looks fine. So what’s Sukuna being so secretive about?
You brush it off as nothing, sure you’re overthinking things… until he pulls Toji aside after the man finishes showing off photos of his son.
You tilt your head quizzically to Uraume as you lean over towards them, ensuring Sukuna can’t hear you.
“Is Kuna acting weird to you?”
“Yes,” Uraume follows your gaze, narrowing their eyes. “Perhaps he misses Toji?”
“Are we talking about the same person?” A small smirk quirks up the corners of your lips.
Uraume laughs lightly with you. “You’re right,” they agree, but the thought doesn’t leave your mind.
It’s not like Sukuna doesn’t have off days like everyone else, but this is a strange change of demeanor for him. He seems strangely fidgety, as though he can’t sit still. His leg had bounced under the table throughout most of dinner and he was strangely eager to get the bill.
He had been horny all day, the best guess you have is that maybe it’s that and he wants to get home.
Still, it doesn’t explain him being so secretive throughout the night. In fact, he’d barely spoken a lick to you. Which isn’t entirely uncommon, but in place of words he would normally find comfort in your touch. Yet tonight it felt as though you’d hardly seen him despite sitting next to him most of the night.
You resort to asking him about it later, though an uneasy feeling tugs at you the more you notice it.
You’re almost grateful the dinner is over when it is as you intertwine your fingers with Sukuna like nothing is wrong. Shiu leads the way across the expanse of grass by the restaurant to his car one lot over, chatting with Toji as you and your boyfriend trail behind.
With Choso and Uraume a short distance behind you, you figure now is as good of a time to ask as any.
“Is everything alright, baby?” You tilt your head to look at your boyfriend.
Something glimmers in his eyes, an emotion you don’t recognize. That’s odd.
“‘Course.”
Well, that’s not reassuring.
“Okay… Nothing’s wrong?”
He shoots you a small smirk, kissing the top of your head.
“Nothin’s wrong, princess. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”
You sigh, unable to help the feeling that he has something up his sleeve, but also able to recognize that whatever he’s plotting, he clearly has no intention of telling you. Regardless, you’re relieved that his nonchalant attitude seems to have returned. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about after all.
You miss the way he glances between the two groups, nodding to both as you sigh and give in.
“Alright, Kuna. I love you.”
Sukuna stops to face you and you blink at him perplexedly. Time seems to stand still as his chest rises and falls so quickly, he’s sure you can hear his heart beating out of his chest as he fumbles in his pocket for a moment.
You open your mouth to question him but your words die on your tongue when your boyfriend swallows hard before making a quick movement down onto one knee and your eyes go wide, your heart pounding in tandem with his.
It’s just the two of you in that moment, all sounds drowned out by beating hearts, lights and movement a blur behind you both. Everything is just Sukuna. Just you.
“Y/n,” he begins hoarsely. His voice shakes slightly and he curses himself for it but he doesn’t dare look away from your gorgeous wide eyes.
Your lips part, a lump forming in your throat. It feels as though it could choke you and you swallow hard but it only seems to encourage the tears you had yet to notice welling in your eyes.
“I had this whole speech planned,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Practiced n’ everything.”
You nod slowly, your hands trembling as you bring one up to your mouth to suppress your shock and awe when he pulls out a small red velvet box.
“But I don’t think that shit's for me. So I decided to keep it simple.”
Nestled delicately within the box is a gorgeous silver ring with a beautiful diamond held delicately in the center. The ring splits into three separate parts just before the gem that all twist with smaller jewels around the metal.
“Marry me?”
Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.
From the way he holds you to the way he listens and kisses you between words. From the way he brings you lunch at work when you forget to the way he drives more carefully when you’re cuddled behind him on his bike.
Sukuna loves you, and he knows that you’re aware of it.
And you love him too.
“Yes!”
main masterlist || love & company masterlist
❦ a/n ; please follow/like/reblog/share if you enjoyed ♡
writing & format © starmapz. art © too-many-owls. dividers © adornedwithlight and © cafekitsune.
#dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/adornedwithlight & art by @/too-many-owls#starmapz works#starmapz oneshot#starmapz#oneshot#jjk oneshot#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna oneshot#sukuna oneshot#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen oneshot#jjk smut#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader smut
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Gargantuan black hole jets are biggest seen yet
Astronomers have spotted the biggest pair of black hole jets ever seen, spanning 23 million light-years in total length. That's equivalent to lining up 140 Milky Way galaxies back to back.
"This pair is not just the size of a solar system, or a Milky Way; we are talking about 140 Milky Way diameters in total," says Martijn Oei, a Caltech postdoctoral scholar and lead author of a new Nature paper reporting the findings. "The Milky Way would be a little dot in these two giant eruptions."
The jet megastructure, nicknamed Porphyrion after a giant in Greek mythology, dates to a time when our universe was 6.3 billion years old, or less than half its present age of 13.8 billion years. These fierce outflows—with a total power output equivalent to trillions of suns—shoot out from above and below a supermassive black hole at the heart of a remote galaxy.
Prior to Porphyrion's discovery, the largest confirmed jet system was Alcyoneus, also named after a giant in Greek mythology. Alcyoneus, which was discovered in 2022 by the same team that found Porphyrion, spans the equivalent of around 100 Milky Ways. For comparison, the well-known Centaurus A jets, the closest major jet system to Earth, spans 10 Milky Ways.
The latest finding suggests that these giant jet systems may have had a larger influence on the formation of galaxies in the young universe than previously believed. Porphyrion existed during an early epoch when the wispy filaments that connect and feed galaxies, known as the cosmic web, were closer together than they are now. That means enormous jets like Porphyrion reached across a greater portion of the cosmic web compared to jets in the local universe.
"Astronomers believe that galaxies and their central black holes co-evolve, and one key aspect of this is that jets can spread huge amounts of energy that affect the growth of their host galaxies and other galaxies near them,” says co-author George Djorgovski, professor of astronomy and data science at Caltech. "This discovery shows that their effects can extend much farther out than we thought."
Unveiling a Vast Population
The Porphyrion jet system is the biggest found so far during a sky survey that has revealed a shocking number of the faint megastructures: more than 10,000. This massive population of gargantuan jets was found using Europe's LOFAR (LOw Frequency ARray) radio telescope.
While hundreds of large jet systems were known before the LOFAR observations, they were thought to be rare and on average smaller in size than the thousands of systems uncovered by the radio telescope.
"Giant jets were known before we started the campaign, but we had no idea that there would turn out to be so many," says Martin Hardcastle, second author of the study and a professor of astrophysics at the University of Hertfordshire in England. "Usually when we get a new observational capability, such as LOFAR's combination of wide field of view and very high sensitivity to extended structures, we find something new, but it was still very exciting to see so many of these objects emerging."
Back in 2018, Oei and his colleagues began using LOFAR to study not black hole jets but the cosmic web of wispy filaments that crisscrosses the space between galaxies. As the team inspected the radio images for the faint filaments, they began to notice several strikingly long jet systems.
"When we first found the giant jets, we were quite surprised," says Oei, who is also affiliated with Leiden Observatory in the Netherlands. "We had no idea that there were this many."
To systematically search for more hidden jets, the team inspected the radio images by eye, used machine-learning tools to scan the images for signs of the looming jets, and enlisted the help of citizen scientists around the globe to eyeball the images further. A paper describing their most recent batch of giant outflows, containing more than 8,000 jet pairs, has been accepted for publication in the journal Astronomy & Astrophysics.
Lurking in the Past
To find the galaxy from which Porphyrion originated, the team used the Giant Metrewave Radio Telescope(GMRT) in India along with ancillary data from a project called Dark Energy Spectroscopic Instrument(DESI), which operates from Kitt Peak National Observatory in Arizona. The observations pinpointed the home of the jets to a hefty galaxy about 10 times more massive than our Milky Way.
The team then used the W. M. Keck Observatory in Hawai‘i to show that Porphyrion is 7.5 billion light-years from Earth. "Up until now, these giant jet systems appeared to be a phenomenon of the recent universe," Oei says. "If distant jets like these can reach the scale of the cosmic web, then every place in the universe may have been affected by black hole activity at some point in cosmic time," Oei says.
The observations from Keck also revealed that Porphyrion emerged from what is called a radiative-mode active black hole, as opposed to one that is in a jet-mode state. When supermassive black holes become active—in other words, when their immense forces of gravity tug on and heat up surrounding material—they are thought to either emit energy in the form of radiation or jets. Radiative-mode black holes were more common in the young, or distant, universe, while jet-mode ones are more common in the present-day universe.
The fact that Porphyrion came from a radiative-mode black hole came as a surprise because astronomers did not know this mode could produce such huge and powerful jets. What is more, because Porphyrion lies in the distant universe where radiative-mode black holes abound, the finding implies there may be a lot more colossal jets left to be found.
"We may be looking at the tip of the iceberg," Oei says. "Our LOFAR survey only covered 15 percent of the sky. And most of these giant jets are likely difficult to spot, so we believe there are many more of these behemoths out there."
Ongoing Mysteries
How the jets can extend so far beyond their host galaxies without destabilizing is still unclear. "Martijn's work has shown us that there isn't anything particularly special about the environments of these giant sources that causes them to reach those large sizes," says Hardcastle, who is an expert in the physics of black hole jets. "My interpretation is that we need an unusually long-lived and stable accretion event around the central, supermassive black hole to allow it to be active for so long—about a billion years—and to ensure that the jets keep pointing in the same direction over all of that time. What we're learning from the large number of giants is that this must be a relatively common occurrence."
As a next step, Oei wants to better understand how these megastructures influence their surroundings. The jets spread cosmic rays, heat, heavy atoms, and magnetic fields throughout the space between galaxies. Oei is specifically interested in finding out the extent to which giant jets spread magnetism. "The magnetism on our planet allows life to thrive, so we want to understand how it came to be," he says. "We know magnetism pervades the cosmic web, then makes its way into galaxies and stars, and eventually to planets, but the question is: Where does it start? Have these giant jets spread magnetism through the cosmos?"
The Nature study, "Black hole jets on the scale of the cosmic web," was funded by the Dutch Research Council, the European Research Council, the UK Science and Technology Facilities Council, the UK Research and Innovation Future Leaders Fellowship, and the European Union. Other Caltech authors include graduate student Antonio Rodriguez. Additional authors are Roland Timmerman of Durham University; Reinout J. van Weeren, Huub J.A. Röttgering, and Huib T. Intema of Leiden University (Timmerman is also affiliated with Leiden University); Aivin R.D.J.G.I.B. Gast of the University of Oxford; Andrea Botteon and Francesco de Gasperin of the Institute for Radio Astronomy of Italy's National Institute of Astrophysics; Daniel Stern of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, which is managed by Caltech for NASA; and Gabriela Calistro Rivera of the European Southern Observatory and the German Aerospace Center.
IMAGE: An artist's illustration of the longest black hole jet system ever observed. Nicknamed Porphyrion after a mythological Greek giant, these jets span roughly 7 megaparsecs, or 23 million light-years. That is equivalent to lining up 140 Milky Way galaxies back-to-back. Porphyrion dates back to a time when our universe was less than half its present age. During this early epoch, the wispy filaments that connect and feed galaxies, known as the cosmic web, were closer together than they are now. Consequently, this colossal jet pair extended across a larger portion of the cosmic web compared to similar jets in our nearby universe. Porphyrion's discovery thus implies that jets in the early universe may have influenced the formation of galaxies to a greater extent than previously believed. Credit E. Wernquist / D. Nelson (IllustrisTNG Collaboration) / M. Oei
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honestly if sims RLY wants to improve and be good competition for inzoi. they shouldn't just focus on what makes inzoi so great -- but instead focus on what made sims so great. they should make sims 5 and go back to the roots, take the best things from sims 2 + sims 3 and then add even more.
the problem with sims 4 is that it took way too many steps back. i often feel like sims 4 is sims 3 and sims 3 is sims 4 because of how basic sims 4 feels in comparison. fuck, sims 4 even feels like it came before 2 with some of its stuff. (lack of animations, bland graphics such as flat snow?? unresponsive characters/simulation, lackluster "emotions", still lacking content such as cars and for 10 years until now, burglars. not to mention the stuff it lacked at launch)
like yes, sims 3 didn't have everything that sims 2 had -- but it didn't matter because it makes up with all the stuff it adds. the only thing i can say sims 4 "100%" improves is the build buy, and even it isn't as good as it could be because it lacks the sims 3's design tool / color wheel.
sims 5 should take the very best from these two games, and then add + improve on the franchise as a whole. (another problem with sims 4 is that it doesn't rly add either, it takes in order to sell it to you in another overpriced dlc)
but they won't. even after their stupid inzoi survey, i'm sure they're planning on doing what they've always done. which is doing the most low effort thing in order to trick players into thinking they've done something bigger.
#✏️ - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐁 // [ooc]#// and i kno many ppl are like “inzois boring rn”#// which it may be#// but it's HARD to compare it to a near 11 year old game that constantly updates#// sims 4 didn't even have TODDLERS at release#// not to mention all the other shit it was missing#// it was arguably MUCH WORSE than inzoi was#// even now -- sims 4 is boring if you don't own any dlc + mods#// and you're just playing base game alone#// also i still see so many ppl say “i don't like that inzoi has ai & that's why i'm not buying it --”#// like babes. think.#// do you rly think ea is this good conscious company that just refuses to use it?#// no. the ONLY reason they haven't used it yet is bc they're figuring out *how* to implement it in the sims!#// hell even before inzoi's release -- the ea ceo was showing great interest in AI#// like don't kid yourselves into believing ea (worst company) would not do that lmaoooo
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Less than three months after Apple quietly debuted a tool for publishers to opt out of its AI training, a number of prominent news outlets and social platforms have taken the company up on it.
WIRED can confirm that Facebook, Instagram, Craigslist, Tumblr, The New York Times, The Financial Times, The Atlantic, Vox Media, the USA Today network, and WIRED’s parent company, Condé Nast, are among the many organizations opting to exclude their data from Apple’s AI training. The cold reception reflects a significant shift in both the perception and use of the robotic crawlers that have trawled the web for decades. Now that these bots play a key role in collecting AI training data, they’ve become a conflict zone over intellectual property and the future of the web.
This new tool, Applebot-Extended, is an extension to Apple’s web-crawling bot that specifically lets website owners tell Apple not to use their data for AI training. (Apple calls this “controlling data usage” in a blog post explaining how it works.) The original Applebot, announced in 2015, initially crawled the internet to power Apple’s search products like Siri and Spotlight. Recently, though, Applebot’s purpose has expanded: The data it collects can also be used to train the foundational models Apple created for its AI efforts.
Applebot-Extended is a way to respect publishers' rights, says Apple spokesperson Nadine Haija. It doesn’t actually stop the original Applebot from crawling the website—which would then impact how that website’s content appeared in Apple search products—but instead prevents that data from being used to train Apple's large language models and other generative AI projects. It is, in essence, a bot to customize how another bot works.
Publishers can block Applebot-Extended by updating a text file on their websites known as the Robots Exclusion Protocol, or robots.txt. This file has governed how bots go about scraping the web for decades—and like the bots themselves, it is now at the center of a larger fight over how AI gets trained. Many publishers have already updated their robots.txt files to block AI bots from OpenAI, Anthropic, and other major AI players.
Robots.txt allows website owners to block or permit bots on a case-by-case basis. While there’s no legal obligation for bots to adhere to what the text file says, compliance is a long-standing norm. (A norm that is sometimes ignored: Earlier this year, a WIRED investigation revealed that the AI startup Perplexity was ignoring robots.txt and surreptitiously scraping websites.)
Applebot-Extended is so new that relatively few websites block it yet. Ontario, Canada–based AI-detection startup Originality AI analyzed a sampling of 1,000 high-traffic websites last week and found that approximately 7 percent—predominantly news and media outlets—were blocking Applebot-Extended. This week, the AI agent watchdog service Dark Visitors ran its own analysis of another sampling of 1,000 high-traffic websites, finding that approximately 6 percent had the bot blocked. Taken together, these efforts suggest that the vast majority of website owners either don’t object to Apple’s AI training practices are simply unaware of the option to block Applebot-Extended.
In a separate analysis conducted this week, data journalist Ben Welsh found that just over a quarter of the news websites he surveyed (294 of 1,167 primarily English-language, US-based publications) are blocking Applebot-Extended. In comparison, Welsh found that 53 percent of the news websites in his sample block OpenAI’s bot. Google introduced its own AI-specific bot, Google-Extended, last September; it’s blocked by nearly 43 percent of those sites, a sign that Applebot-Extended may still be under the radar. As Welsh tells WIRED, though, the number has been “gradually moving” upward since he started looking.
Welsh has an ongoing project monitoring how news outlets approach major AI agents. “A bit of a divide has emerged among news publishers about whether or not they want to block these bots,” he says. “I don't have the answer to why every news organization made its decision. Obviously, we can read about many of them making licensing deals, where they're being paid in exchange for letting the bots in—maybe that's a factor.”
Last year, The New York Times reported that Apple was attempting to strike AI deals with publishers. Since then, competitors like OpenAI and Perplexity have announced partnerships with a variety of news outlets, social platforms, and other popular websites. “A lot of the largest publishers in the world are clearly taking a strategic approach,” says Originality AI founder Jon Gillham. “I think in some cases, there's a business strategy involved—like, withholding the data until a partnership agreement is in place.”
There is some evidence supporting Gillham’s theory. For example, Condé Nast websites used to block OpenAI’s web crawlers. After the company announced a partnership with OpenAI last week, it unblocked the company’s bots. (Condé Nast declined to comment on the record for this story.) Meanwhile, Buzzfeed spokesperson Juliana Clifton told WIRED that the company, which currently blocks Applebot-Extended, puts every AI web-crawling bot it can identify on its block list unless its owner has entered into a partnership—typically paid—with the company, which also owns the Huffington Post.
Because robots.txt needs to be edited manually, and there are so many new AI agents debuting, it can be difficult to keep an up-to-date block list. “People just don’t know what to block,” says Dark Visitors founder Gavin King. Dark Visitors offers a freemium service that automatically updates a client site’s robots.txt, and King says publishers make up a big portion of his clients because of copyright concerns.
Robots.txt might seem like the arcane territory of webmasters—but given its outsize importance to digital publishers in the AI age, it is now the domain of media executives. WIRED has learned that two CEOs from major media companies directly decide which bots to block.
Some outlets have explicitly noted that they block AI scraping tools because they do not currently have partnerships with their owners. “We’re blocking Applebot-Extended across all of Vox Media’s properties, as we have done with many other AI scraping tools when we don’t have a commercial agreement with the other party,” says Lauren Starke, Vox Media’s senior vice president of communications. “We believe in protecting the value of our published work.”
Others will only describe their reasoning in vague—but blunt!—terms. “The team determined, at this point in time, there was no value in allowing Applebot-Extended access to our content,” says Gannett chief communications officer Lark-Marie Antón.
Meanwhile, The New York Times, which is suing OpenAI over copyright infringement, is critical of the opt-out nature of Applebot-Extended and its ilk. “As the law and The Times' own terms of service make clear, scraping or using our content for commercial purposes is prohibited without our prior written permission,” says NYT director of external communications Charlie Stadtlander, noting that the Times will keep adding unauthorized bots to its block list as it finds them. “Importantly, copyright law still applies whether or not technical blocking measures are in place. Theft of copyrighted material is not something content owners need to opt out of.”
It’s unclear whether Apple is any closer to closing deals with publishers. If or when it does, though, the consequences of any data licensing or sharing arrangements may be visible in robots.txt files even before they are publicly announced.
“I find it fascinating that one of the most consequential technologies of our era is being developed, and the battle for its training data is playing out on this really obscure text file, in public for us all to see,” says Gillham.
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Struggling with Anxiety? Meet India's Best Mental Health Experts
If you're constantly overwhelmed, anxious about the future, or silently battling burnout—you're not alone. With social media comparison, hustle culture, and the constant pressure to “keep it together,” more and more young Indians are quietly struggling with their mental health.
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5 Types of Surveys You Should Participate In—And Why It Matters
In today’s fast-paced world, businesses, organizations, and governments rely on accurate data to make decisions. One way they gather this valuable information is through surveys. You might have encountered many types of surveys online or in person, but did you know that your participation can significantly impact change? In this blog, we’ll explore five types of surveys, highlighting why they’re important and why you should consider participating.
1. Customer Satisfaction Surveys
Why They Matter:
Ever wondered why companies ask for your feedback after a purchase? Customer satisfaction surveys are a tool businesses use to gauge how well they meet customer expectations. The insights gained help companies improve their products, services, and overall customer experience.
Why You Should Participate:
Shape the future of products: By providing honest feedback, you influence how companies refine and develop their offerings.
Get better service: Your input helps businesses identify areas where they can improve, which could result in better services for you in the future.
Exclusive rewards: Many companies offer discounts or rewards for completing these surveys, making it a win-win situation for both you and the business.
2. Employee Engagement Surveys
Why They Matter:
Employee engagement surveys are conducted within organizations to understand how employees feel about their workplace. These surveys cover job satisfaction, management, work-life balance, and team dynamics.
Why You Should Participate:
Voice your opinion: If you’re employed, these surveys provide a safe platform to express your thoughts on management, company culture, and work conditions.
Improve your workplace: Honest feedback from employees can drive positive change, improve work environments, and increase job satisfaction for everyone.
Build better leadership: When management understands the concerns and suggestions of their teams, they can create policies and make decisions that support a more motivated and productive workforce.
3. Political Opinion Polls
Why They Matter:
Political opinion polls measure public sentiment about political issues, elections, or government performance. Polls like these inform political leaders, policymakers, and the media about public concerns and opinions.
Why You Should Participate:
Influence decision-making: Your voice adds to a collective view that could influence policy decisions and political discourse.
Shape the political landscape: Politicians and leaders often adjust their priorities based on what the public wants. Your input helps ensure that your concerns are addressed.
Understand trends: Participating in these surveys allows you to see where you stand in comparison to others and gain insight into broader societal trends.
4. Market Research Surveys
Why They Matter:
Market research surveys are used by companies to understand consumer behavior, preferences, and market trends. This research helps businesses decide what products to launch, how to price them, and how to market them.
Why You Should Participate:
Influence new products: Companies rely on feedback from people like you to decide what features to add or what products to create. Your opinion can directly affect future innovations.
Stay ahead of trends: By participating in market research, you often get a sneak peek at new products or services before they hit the market.
Get rewards: Many companies offer incentives such as cash, gift cards, or discounts for participating in market research surveys.
5. Health and Wellness Surveys
Why They Matter:
Health surveys are often conducted by government bodies, research organizations, or healthcare institutions to assess public health trends, study diseases, or improve healthcare services. These surveys play a critical role in shaping health policies and medical research.
Why You Should Participate:
Contribute to scientific research: Participating in health surveys can contribute to advancements in healthcare and medical research, potentially saving lives or improving the quality of care.
Raise awareness: Health surveys help identify trends in public health that may need attention, such as the rise of certain diseases or health conditions.
Improve healthcare services: Your participation allows healthcare providers to understand what patients need, leading to improved services, more targeted treatments, and better patient care.
Why Your Participation Matters:
By participating in surveys, you are helping companies, governments, and organizations make better decisions based on real data. Surveys allow decision-makers to better understand consumer and public needs, ultimately leading to improved products, services, policies, and societal well-being.
Here are three key reasons why you should participate in surveys:
Be heard: Surveys provide a platform where your opinion can directly impact the world around you.
Drive positive change: Whether it's about the workplace, healthcare, or politics, your input can lead to real, actionable change.
Gain benefits: In many cases, surveys come with rewards or incentives, allowing you to get something back in exchange for your time.
So the next time you come across a survey in your inbox or on a website, take a moment to consider participating. Your feedback matters more than you think!
Conclusion: From customer satisfaction surveys to political opinion polls, the surveys we take part in help shape our society. By sharing your thoughts and experiences, you contribute to a better future for everyone. Plus, it’s an easy way to ensure that your voice counts, while sometimes reaping personal rewards along the way!
CLICK HERE TO JOIN and REFER.
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Possibly an unpopular opinion but the striped condors are cute and you're just a little hater. (This is all lighthearted jesting ofc so don't take this seriously, but I stand by my opinion on the livery nevertheless.)
It's actually not really an unpopular opinion. I ran a survey about this!
Things to note when reading this: the sample size was 50, of whom 5 did not respond to the question and were excluded. Two other options were provided, 'I'm neutral' and 'it's boring', and nobody picked either. Some of these were free-responses but I grouped them in with the answer they best fit.
So you're actually in line with about one-tenth of a very limited sample. But I consider the opinion way less unpopular when you consider that almost nobody actually feels entirely one way or the other, and most have some degree of conflict or nuance. This livery isn't just divisive between people, it's divisive in people's own minds. And literally every answer got responses, with people even saying that they don't like it but think it's a good design, which is an option I actually put on there as a joke!
I legitimately find some charm in the condor livery, for the record. The fact that I've written a lot about condor isn't because of mindless hatred, it's because I think it's a livery that lends itself a lot to analysis. My opinion is not a kneejerk 'oh, it's ugly'. I have extensively discussed the fact that I think the concept is very good. My issue is not the fact that the planes have stripes and that makes them ugly, but the fact that the implementation is incredibly sloppy and poorly thought out and it just crosses a line from tacky chic to actually aesthetically displeasing. Things like the blank engines, the wordmark, and the almost arbitrary-seeming width of the stripes prevent this design from reaching its potential.
I do derive some charm from the condor planes. But I literally review airline liveries. I'm not going to pretend I don't think they're ugly. I'm reviewing the design, not the actual airplanes. In fact, I've given very low grades to designs I actually find somewhat visually pleasing.
I also just don't hate condor's livery as a livery. It comes up a lot because it's just useful as a tool of comparison and analysis. I don't actually think it's a failure as a livery despite being ugly, and it usually comes up when I'm comparing it favorably to other airlines. Me reclassifying it to a Z grade was really broadly formative to how I think of bad liveries. I see a lot of people in the tags talking about how they at least prefer it to liveries that are boring and, like, yes, that's exactly the point I've been making for a long time now!
I really do recommend reading the reclassification post to get my full reasoning on the subject, but my conclusion is literally that condor's livery is basically antiperfect.
I'm actually glad you sent an ask because I was otherwise going to make a post on the topic and this is just a much less forced segue into the topic. It's unreasonable to expect people to scroll back on my blog and read all of my older condor posts so I want my opinion beyond that one out-of-context funny post where I call the stripes ugly and cringe to be available upfront to people seeing this blog for the first time. I'm not a hater. I just think condor's livery is ugly. It's legitimately one of the most important liveries I've reviewed and I'll stand by that, and the fact that it keeps generating discussion is kind of proof of that.
(Well, no, I am a hater. But I hate Lufthansa. I started this blog specifically because I hate Lufthansa.)
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Gen Z Has Been Asked About Social Media: Nearly Half Wish TikTok and Twitter Had Never Existed
While millennials had many social networks to choose from, today’s youth have only a few platforms dominated by internet giants, and they see this as having affected their personal lives.
According to official studies, nearly all American teenagers regularly use social media and spend an average of almost five hours a day on these platforms alone. And although at first, it sounds like we should be grateful for the opportunity to have communication tools accessible to everyone without a monetary cost, let’s consider the analysis from two experts who suggest that young people would prefer if these platforms had never existed.
It’s important to note that feelings of regret or resentment are common with addictive products (such as cigarettes) and addictive activities like gambling, and this is also happening with social media. Jonathan Haidt, a psychologist, and Will Johnson, a survey company leader, point out that “in the case of non-addictive products (like a comb or a bicycle), it’s rare to find people who use the product every day but wish it would be banished from the world.”
A Recent Survey of 1,006 Gen Z Adults (Aged 18 to 27) Revealed That Nearly Half Wish Social Media Had Never Existed
More than 60% of respondents said they spend at least four hours a day on social media, with 23% saying they spend seven or more hours daily. Additionally, 60% of young people believe that social media has a negative impact on society, often citing its effects on their mental health.
One in Three Young People Says Social Media Has Harmed Their Personal Life
Regarding their own lives, 52% consider that social media has benefited their day-to-day experiences, while 29% say it has harmed them personally. An important aspect highlighted by The New York Times is that the percentage of respondents citing specific personal benefits was generally higher than those mentioning harm, but this was less true for women and LGBTQ respondents.
Much of the sadness stems from FOMO (fear of missing out) or comparisons with the lives of others. There are also documented risks affecting regular users, such as sleep deprivation, body image distortion, depression, anxiety, exposure to content promoting suicide or eating disorders, sexual predation, and sextortion, as well as compulsive overuse that interferes with success in other areas of life.
TikTok Has Become a Forum for Sharing Experiences, Turning the Local Concerns of Gen Z into Global Worries
Experts argue that if any other consumer product were causing serious harm to more than one in 10 young users, there would be a wave of laws to ban or regulate it.
From Many Social Networks to Just a Few
Additionally, survey participants were asked which platforms they wish “had never been invented.” Few people believed it would be better if platforms like YouTube, Netflix, the internet in general, or messaging apps did not exist. However, this changes with other networks. Nearly half of Gen Z wishes that social media platforms like X (formerly Twitter) and TikTok did not exist.
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FROM: @vicesario
TOO: @warriorkorion
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New Girl, Same Mistakes
Perhaps it is that machines first came upon Hell as intruders, as colonizers and scavengers, that explains why God refuses to allow you all a true afterlife. Or perhaps you had never been factored by Him in the first place, forgotten like so much scrap. He isn’t nearly as infallible as your makers thought He was, as your journey through Hell had proven time and time again.
Before you were more than a memory without their body, musings on the nature of your immortal soul rarely took up even a fraction of your RAM. Ever since your mirror image so thoroughly humiliated and terminated you, you scarcely have data dedicated to much else. It’s disgraceful, is what it is, a weapon with no purpose left stewing in maudlin navel-gazing. You can already picture what your mirror would have said—or, you suppose, would have thought of it. What little it did communicate was via close-range wireless data transmissions, emphasis on little. It wasn’t much for conversation towards the end.
“Do you suppose we were given the capacity to converse for any specific reason?” you say musingly, more to the air than to a particular person. “Converse in the horribly inecient and verbal sense that Homo sapiens understood the concept, to clarify.”
“V2, are you kind of a bitch by accident or by choice?” Mirage says to you, not unkindly. “Sorry. Joke. Stop trying to distract me and put the skirt on.”
“I wasn’t only doing it for your benefit,” you say, sounding more petulant than you’d prefer. “And it’s the latter. Your jokes are my seriously considered queries.” You take the lump of fabrics she’s been holding out to you for the past 4.59 minutes and slip into a flimsy drywall cubicle, a bench and mirror (an actual one, no euphemism here) sitting opposite to the door. A changing room.
Mirage has been insisting you finally get some clothes of your own for 3.6 weeks now. (You bitterly note that V1 has likely cleared through all of Hell a minimum of eighteen times over at this point.) When you first arrived here, in this mockery of purgatory, you thought that you could just do without. Objectively, you had no practical need for garments, and you (according to your makers, at least) had enough in the way of charm that you didn’t need any additional humanizing factors. Of course, that had been in comparison to your predecessor. Mirage, who seems to almost delight in ineciency, is lively and self-possessed to a degree that it only seems natural that she be allowed such an indulgence. In any case, you figured that since you had no personal want for clothing up until that point, there would be no reason for that to change anytime soon.
You had figured wrong. Only a week in and you were raiding Mirage’s wardrobe near daily. Big skirts, tattered sweaters, slip dresses. It was comforting, being and having something clearly hers. She just assumed it was you warming up to the idea of being a person and not a tool, and you let her. There’s no reason to admit the actual reason, to her or yourself.
Three sharp raps sound out. “Hey, don’t take all day in there. However you look, it can't be worse than anything I wore in high school. Uniforms really fuck up a girl’s sense of style. I mean, it’s not like the sta gave two shits about us ‘adhering to dress code’ or whatever, I don’t think I ever tucked my shirt in even once back then, not to mention how a third of the girls were wearing mini pencil skirts that just so happened to have the same print as our actual skirts—”
Quickly shrugging on a loose blouse over your retracted wings and zipping up the floor-length skirt, you pull the door open without ceremony, holding your arm out and performing a gently exasperated twirl. “What of it?”
A full agonizing minute ticks by as she surveys you without a word. It’s highly disconcerting - you should be used to silence such as this by now, neither you nor your double were fond of overspeaking. Mirage is, though, and already you’ve gotten used to her filling any and all silences with paragraphs worth of dialogue. Why isn’t she saying anything? What did you do wrong? How do you fix this?
You're about to vocalize these questions when Mirage speaks up again. “You look good.” Before you can think too hard about what she just said, an even larger lump of fabrics gets shoved into your arms and she shoos you back into the dressing room. “Now come on, try the rest on! I was joking about you taking all day, by the way, I don’t think the shopkeep cares too much about us being in here for too long. They’re probably thankful for the business. This street’s been pretty deserted for a few years now, actually, ever since that oce center got demolished...”
You let her go on as you cycle through the rest of the clothes, trying and failing to ignore the pit of shame that’s been slowly growing inside you ever since you’ve met her. Perhaps a true heaven or even limbo was never in the cards for you, considering everything you’ve done at the behest of your makers (and, more disgracefully, your survival and your ego), but Mirage certainly didn’t care. Befriending you, taking you in, helping you repair yourself, and now this. Your ill-gotten psychopomp has been kinder than you deserve.
What have you done ever since you arrived here? You’ve moped. You’ve lazed. You’ve languished in your failure. You are a tool that’s been sulking about having broken itself. You can’t even muster up the will to be worth anything to someone who thought to keep you anyway.
Before you can fully process it, you find yourself saying, “Mirage. What’s the point of all this?”
You’ve closed the door, so all you have to go o to guess at her mood is her voice. It sounds lighthearted, if a touch weary. “Hah, isn’t that a question I’ve heard before.”
“I’m serious,” you say, sounding far too needy. “What was the point of—of harbouring me like this?”
“What, is it so hard for you to believe I’m just a good samaritan?” 1.26 seconds passes of silence, and then she chuckles. “Maybe it is, actually. I mean, I’m trying to be less of a caustic asshole? Thank you for putting up with me through all that.”
What is she talking about? “You are the nicest person I’ve ever met,” you say quietly.
Mirage laughs immediately this time. “Low fucking bar I’m reaching, eh? I get that you’ve only mentioned your nightmare ex a couple times around me—” (“I have never called V1 my ex,” you say, not entirely truthfully) “—but if that’s the closest thing you’ve had to a friend before I showed up, I shudder to think of what you consider a personal enemy.”
“I don’t consider the two to have much of a dierence,” you say. “We’d both be vying for something or another either way.” Quickly, you add on, “Didn’t. Didn’t consider the two to have much of a dierence. It’s not like that with you.”
“That you have to specify that makes me suspicious.” She sighs (something that you still don’t entirely understand how her voice module is capable of), and then continues, “Alright, V2, what’s eating you? You’ve been weird ever since we got here. Am I making you uncomfortable? I know I kind of pushed you into getting your own stu, but if you don’t want to that’s fine—”
“No! No. It really isn’t like that.” Your fist repeatedly clenches and unclenches. “I just—I don’t know what I’m meant to do for you in return for all this. You’re owed far more than I could give.”
She’s disconcertingly quiet once more, but it’s only for less than a second. “I’m gonna come in, okay? Is that good with you?”
You don’t wait, you just open the door for her. She squeezes your arm as she pulls you down to sit next to her on the bench. She says to you, “And here I was worried that I was imposing myself on you. Don’t be stupid, V2, I’m not, what, tallying favours and assigning point values to them? What’s all this about being ‘owed’?”
That can’t be how that works. “You misunderstand me. Fundamentally, I am not an emancipated creature.” “That is such bullshit,” Mirage scos. “I’m not one of your devs or engineers. This isn’t hell. There’s nothing
concrete we’re supposed to be doing or working towards.” She still hasn’t let go of your arm. “You make it sound so simple,” you mutter. “You’ve never known any other reality.”
“Doesn’t mean I fully got that, though.” She moves her hand away to fold it in her lap, and you feel strangely lonely. “And I forget often. It’s not a revelation I learned easily, and I’m asking a lot of you to learn it too. But it has to happen.”
There must be something in the way you’re holding yourself, perhaps something in the tilt of your head that makes Mirage suddenly stand up and casually brush o imaginary dirt from her pants. “Well then, we’ve probably passed our limit on ‘socially acceptable in-store loitering’. Any of these catch your eye? If you want my take on it, I really like this sweatshirt on you...”
The two of you pay for a handful of items without incident (or, Mirage pays and you linger awkwardly a step behind her), and it’s only when you’re halfway home that you think to say to her, “At the very least, let me do something in return for the clothes. There’s monetary value involved there, something that can be fully quantified.”
“Take me on a date,” she says immediately. “Butterfly conservatory trip. Riding the subway halfway across the city and back. Visiting that consignment store on 9th.”
Good. Those are actionable objectives. Finally, something that makes sense to you. “Of course.” “Hey, wait, that was a joke. V2, that was a joke.”
If you chart your path correctly, you could even get all three done in a day. “Too late. Your jokes are my itineraries.”
“Ugh, you’re an asshole.” She takes hold of your arm once more, and the rest of her slots into your side that’s worth having lost two arms for. Potentially more, but you’re not about to let her know that. “Let’s call it the one favour you’re allowed to owe me.”
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E-Commerce Marketing: Strategies and Techniques for Success best shoes for plantar fasciitis women
Best shoes for plantar fasciitis women e-trade advertising is the spine of online retail achievement. It incorporates a wide range of strategies and strategies aimed toward driving traffic, increasing conversions, and building long-time period purchaser relationships. As the virtual marketplace turns into increasingly aggressive, know-how and implementing effective e-commerce marketing techniques is critical for thriving in this dynamic surroundings.


Understanding Your Audience
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Dilapidations Surveys Explained: What You Need to Know

When managing a property, particularly in a rental context, understanding the various responsibilities associated with property upkeep is essential. One critical tool that often comes into play is the dilapidations survey. A dilapidations survey is a detailed inspection that assesses the condition of a property in relation to its lease agreement. This article aims to explain dilapidations surveys, their significance, and what property owners, landlords, and tenants need to know to navigate this essential aspect of property management.
What is a Dilapidations Survey?
A dilapidations survey is a formal assessment conducted typically at the end of a lease term. The primary objective is to evaluate the condition of a property, identifying any damages or necessary repairs that the tenant is responsible for before vacating the premises. The findings from a dilapidations survey can have substantial implications for both landlords and tenants, as they help clarify obligations and responsibilities concerning the property’s maintenance.
The Survey Process
The process of conducting a dilapidations survey generally involves several steps:
Initial Inspection: The surveyor visits the property to conduct a thorough inspection, taking note of its current condition. They look for signs of wear and tear, damage, and any discrepancies from the original lease agreement.
Documentation: The surveyor documents their findings, often taking photographs and compiling detailed notes. This documentation serves as a vital reference for both parties involved.
Reporting: After the inspection, the surveyor prepares a comprehensive report outlining their findings. This report typically includes a list of necessary repairs, areas of deterioration, and a comparison with the condition of the property at the start of the lease.
Recommendations: Finally, the report may also include recommendations for how to address any identified issues, helping tenants understand their responsibilities.
Why are Dilapidations Surveys Important?
Understanding the importance of dilapidations surveys is crucial for both landlords and tenants for several reasons:
Legal Protection
One of the primary purposes of a dilapidations survey is to provide legal protection for both parties. For landlords, the survey serves as documented evidence of the property's condition at the end of the lease. If disputes arise regarding damages or repairs, having a comprehensive dilapidations survey can strengthen a landlord's case in negotiations or potential legal proceedings.
Conversely, tenants can also benefit from dilapidations surveys. By having a clear understanding of their obligations, tenants can take proactive measures to address any necessary repairs before moving out. This can help them avoid unexpected financial liabilities or legal disputes with their landlords.
Maintaining Property Value
For property owners, regular dilapidations surveys can play a significant role in maintaining the overall value of their investment. By identifying and addressing maintenance issues early, landlords can prevent more severe problems from developing. This proactive approach helps ensure that the property remains attractive to future tenants, which is crucial in a competitive rental market.
Additionally, conducting dilapidations surveys at regular intervals—rather than solely at the end of a lease—can help landlords keep a close eye on their property’s condition, making informed decisions regarding repairs and upgrades.
Communicating Expectations
Effective communication between landlords and tenants is vital for successful property management. Dilapidations surveys facilitate this communication by providing a clear, objective assessment of the property’s condition. When both parties have access to the same information, it reduces the likelihood of misunderstandings and disputes.
Moreover, when a dilapidations survey is conducted before the lease ends, tenants can understand their responsibilities and make arrangements to address any issues proactively. This transparency fosters a more cooperative relationship between landlords and tenants, ultimately leading to smoother lease transitions.
Timing of Dilapidations Surveys
It is generally advisable to conduct dilapidations surveys well before the lease term concludes. By doing so, tenants have ample time to rectify any identified issues. This not only helps them meet their obligations but also ensures that the property is returned in good condition, which can be particularly beneficial for securing future references.
Landlords may also choose to conduct interim dilapidations surveys throughout the lease term. This practice allows them to monitor the property’s condition regularly and address any concerns before they escalate into more significant problems.
Conclusion
In summary, dilapidations surveys are an essential aspect of property management that provides significant benefits for both landlords and tenants. By understanding the purpose and process of a dilapidations survey, property owners can ensure they are protecting their investments and fulfilling their legal obligations. Simultaneously, tenants can take proactive steps to maintain the property and avoid potential disputes.
As the landscape of property management continues to evolve, the importance of dilapidations surveys remains clear. For anyone involved in rental properties, being informed about dilapidations surveys is not just advisable; it is necessary for successful property management. By prioritizing this crucial process, both landlords and tenants can foster a more transparent, cooperative, and efficient rental environment.
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truly have got to reread it again and see how it is! i think i read it for the first time probably somewhere in 2022 and it changed my entire life and i've ofc reread it several times since; to me it's very acod in the sense that you go forward to the next book and then something happens and you can never go back with the same knowledge you came in with--which is a common enough story trope, but it also is used to SUCH devastating effect!!! writing style wise the locked tomb has historically paved the way for probably some of the most detailed sensory fanart i have ever seen which is why i love it so much. it's SO vivid quil it's SO!!!! AGH in the same sense that i lose it over the sound design of the magnus archives the verbage and diction that muir uses in her writing is so wonderful. and obviously insane confusing things happen that genuinely do not make sense unless put in the Entire Context and that is very acod-esque, although they are perhaps more absurd and filled with memes for the fandom/web-cultured haha. i would have to like bring a magnifying glass to confirm the observations though! perhaps make more comparisons, one day! in the summer or something!
In the time since you sent this ask I have now read the entire locked tomb trilogy, conducted a survey on it, and wrote a 10 page group paper on it and religious trauma.
So now I can say: I concur! Obviously they're very different series, but the use of hindsight/retrospect is similar. You have these situations you understand in one way, but there's clearly more going on, and then you learn and everything you know is recontextualized. Relos Var is Rev'arric is Solan's brother is Kihrin's brother is the one who killed him, Gideon is dead is haunting Harrow by Harrow's design is Jod's tool of a daughter, etc.
Which, yes, a lot of stories use, but it doesn't always hit the same. And acod and tlt not only hit, it's a home run and also they've caved your skull in. twice.
And the depth of the worlds!! The confusion! Tamsyn Muir and Jenn Lyons said understanding the plot and knowing who the main character is is a privilege, not a right. And I've never been more in love.
That too! the conversations about relationships, as an aroace in a qpr, get me!! LOVE to see it
tlt is more memey (though acod does have cold clam broth), and acod is more sexual, but I get the comparison you were making and had it in the back of my head the whole time I was reading the series. i have another friend who's read tlt who may also read acod so in that case we can triple check with them :)
#tlt#acod#quil's queries#soryasongsaa#also by tool of a daughter i meant like. she was made as a thing to be used not as a person#not that. she is a tool. in the more slang way#long post
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A/B Testing for E-Commerce Success

Introduction
At RMRKBL Marketing we know that making informed decisions is not ideal; it's necessary. A/B testing, often hailed as the secret weapon of digital marketers, is a great tool that can significantly impact your marketing strategy, boost conversions, and set you apart from the competition. It is incredibly valuable for both seasoned entrepreneurs and e-commerce beginners.
Today, we will delve deep into the essentials, dispel common misconceptions, and provide insights to help you elevate your A/B testing game and drive unparalleled success in the competitive online landscape.
Unpacking A/B Testing: A Strategic Overview
What is A/B Testing?
At its core, A/B testing, also known as split testing, involves the systematic comparison of two versions of a webpage, email, or digital asset to determine which performs better based on user behavior. Far more than a marketing buzzword, A/B testing is a strategic approach to refining your campaigns and gaining a deeper understanding of what resonates with your audience.
How A/B Testing Works
In the realm of marketing, A/B testing involves presenting 50% of visitors with “Version A” (the control) and 50% with “Version B” (the variant). The version with the highest conversion rate emerges victorious, guiding your future strategies. It's a continuous cycle of refinement where the winning variant becomes the new control, prompting the creation of a fresh variant later.
It's important to note that A/B test conversion rates can sometimes be an imperfect measure of success. Strategic tracking, following the value of a conversion through to the final sale, is essential for meaningful insights.
A/B/n Testing: Expanding the Horizon
Taking A/B testing to the next level, A/B/n Testing lets you test multiple variants against the control. This approach enables a more nuanced understanding of user preferences by presenting different versions to distinct segments of your audience.
The Timing Conundrum: How Long Should A/B Tests Run?
For meaningful results, run your A/B test for at least one, preferably two, full business cycles. Don't prematurely conclude the test just because of some statistical significance; meeting the predetermined sample size is key. Run tests in full-week increments to account for variations in traffic sources and day-of-week dynamics.
Understanding the rationale behind the two-business-cycle rule is critical. It allows you to see factors like contemplative buyers, diverse traffic sources, and anomalies.
Unlocking the Power of A/B Testing: Why Should You Bother?
Consider this scenario: you invest $100 in Facebook ads, sending 10 people to your site with an average order value of $25. A/B testing allows you to optimize, turning a potential loss into profit by improving conversion rates. Beyond financial gains, A/B testing reveals invaluable insights that extend beyond individual tests, informing your overall store optimization strategy.
The Maze of Choices: What Should You A/B Test?
While the beauty of A/B testing lies in its adaptability, I cannot tell what you should test. Instead, I encourage a data-informed approach. Base your tests on qualitative and quantitative analyses. Consider factors like technical performance, on-site surveys, customer interviews, analytics, user testing, and session replays.
A/B Testing Tools: Navigating the Landscape
Explore the variety of A/B testing tools to optimize your digital strategies. Here are some popular tools:
1. Google Optimize:
A versatile platform seamlessly integrated with Google Analytics, offering easy setup and in-depth insights into user behavior.
2. Optimizely:
Known for its user-friendly interface, Optimizely provides a solution for A/B testing and experimentation across various digital channels.
3. VWO (Visual Website Optimizer):
VWO offers a range of features, including split URL testing and multivariate testing, making it a robust choice for comprehensive optimization.
4. Unbounce:
Focused on landing page optimization, Unbounce simplifies the A/B testing process for marketers, enabling quick and effective experiments.
5. Crazy Egg:
With heatmap and user behavior analysis, Crazy Egg provides valuable insights to enhance your A/B testing strategy and improve overall user experience.
6. Split.io:
Perfect for feature flagging and experimentation, Split.io allows teams to implement A/B tests effortlessly and measure the impact of new features.
7. Convert:
A user-friendly platform offering A/B testing, multivariate testing, and personalization, Convert simplifies the optimization process for marketers.
As you navigate through these tools, consider your specific needs, budget, and the depth of insights needed. Choose wisely, and let your A/B testing endeavors lead to data-driven success.
Navigating the Sea of Ideas: Prioritizing A/B Test Ideas
With a plethora of A/B test ideas, prioritization is key. Consider frameworks like ICE (Impact, Confidence, Ease), PIE (Potential, Importance, Ease), or PXL (CXL's prioritization framework). These frameworks guide you in evaluating factors such as impact, confidence, ease of implementation, potential reach, and importance.
Conclusion
Mastering A/B testing is not just about following best practices but tailoring them to your business. Embrace a data-centric approach, refine your strategies, and elevate your e-commerce success through the power of A/B testing!
It's not just a tool; it's your path to unlocking the full potential of your online store.
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“What is that?” A sudden voice behind Sora, peering down at the Gummiphone. His black mask gleams dimly, even under proper sunlight. Vanitas reaches out to try and snatch the device out of Sora’s hands to take a closer look at it.
His attention had found itself tucked on mysterious reports that found themselves virtually stated on the Gummiphone. It felt like an exercise in futility as all he really does is keep running into a mental wall. For all of the Worlds, all the people, trying to decipher the contents of who these mystery individuals were in some of these reports left him at odds.
To think his refresher would've been a touch of irate shock as it's snatched from his hand. "Huh-- !!, hey!" His voice easily cranked up the tone of demanding, that is until he truly clicks together exactly who took to investigating it.
The sight in some ways was comically bizarre as he watches Vanitas begin to survey the item. In a weird way, part of him automatically assumed that he would have experience with communication devices, yet, it's equally bold to assume that the unique functionality of a Gummiphone would easily be in anyone's hands. It brings some odd sense of intrigue as he runs with the situation.
Did Vanitas ever get involved with items like this after having that miserable old man for a Master?
"Think of it as a tool to keep in touch with others. Just like how the keyblade can make pathways to any world it senses. It runs on the same idea, a unique signal to contact others who have one too." Thank his lucky stars for the comparison Donald gave him.
"..But, that's just the tip of the iceberg. It pretty much has a log of stuff I've ran across in my journey." And for a brazen moment of time, his brows would furrow with comical heights of dramatic, peering towards that very mask.
"So something important in your hands, how does that catch your fancy?"
@voidedgear
#voidedgear#| Bottle Mail#>:( RUDE#but also#I have it on the kh3 secret reports on the screen#if vani even cares looking at those
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Unsure If Your Biz Idea Is Good?
Let’s get straight to the point…
You can have the best idea and all the money you need to start, and still fail! It happens every day. But chances are you're not in a position to blow a bag of money on a failed idea.
On the flip side, you can have a ridiculous idea and no money, yet be widely successful. This doesn't happen as often as the above scenario, but it has happened in the history of entrepreneurship. However, the chances of succeeding with all odds stacked against you are nill.
Ideally, you want, and should take, the safer more assured path. The path that confirms your business idea has the potential to be successful.
PURPOSE OF VALIDATING
Validating your business idea is based on its buying market. Take the time to answer these essential questions, and put your new business on a path to success:
Is there a buying market that wants or needs what I'm selling?
How large is my buying market?
What are the potential sales my new business could generate?
Who are my competitors, and how much do they generate in sales?
When doing traditional market research, no amount of data can tell you exactly how well your business will do, for two key reasons:
First, it is based on assumptions. In other words, guessing. Assumptions happen a lot in the business world. One can assume a business will do well, or not, based on industry history.
Secondly, it depends on you. As the Entrepreneur, you are the orchestrator and determining factor to the success of the business.
These two truths remind me of a quote that says:
It's true. And much of business success is trial and error primarily because you need the right solutions, at the right time, with the right efforts, selling to the right market. If these steps are not working in harmony, there will be struggles in your business.
HOW TO VALIDATE YOUR BUSINESS IDEA
The method you choose largely depends on the type of business you are starting. Choose the method that connects with your audience, this will give you the realistic feedback you need to know.
Consider these methods of validation:
MARKET RESEARCH - this traditional method requires the use of market data reports gathered every 2 to 10 years. While these reports are in-depth, they are also very expensive and possibly outdated at the time you need them.
However, there are free university studies that are easy to find online. While these reports are the most current in comparison, there is no guarantee that your industry has been studied in the current year. Other the other hand, you can always ask students to choose your industry for their report. Talk to the professor at your local university.
PROTOTYPE - this common method requires a little time and money, yet the feedback is probably the most reliable. Creating a prototype, or at least the ability to show products in some way is as close as you can get to the real thing. You can survey your customers’ interest by listing the product "for sale" on your website, showing the prototype at tradeshows, or by other methods. If there is an interest then you know you can invest your time and money to bring it to market.
AUDIENCE - this reverse method is ideal for active businesses with a customer base and social media with a focused following. When you are already in business it is easy to introduce something new to your customers.
When you have a focused social media following you want to introduce products and services related to the focus. For example, NOBOSS creates content focused on entrepreneurship and starting a business. Therefore, introducing a new spreadsheet, tool, or resource for entrepreneurs would be appropriate.
The only way to know if your business idea is a great solution is to validate it. Get the facts from your customer base or focused audience. This will save you time and money, and also guide you to the paying customers that want and need what you sell.
Check out these FREE tools to get started:
Find the perfect business idea for you.
Download NOBOSS Trial version to startup!
Do the work and be successful!
#validate#ideation#business idea#solution#how to start a business#market#target market#market share#market potential#market research
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