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sukunasteeth · 1 day

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Sukuna has never said no to you.

It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list.

And you were curious how far you could go with it.

The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.

You were starting to change that.

"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.

"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary.

And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.

"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look.

You blink at him in surprise.

"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing.

Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time.

You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary.

Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"

"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."

He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.

"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."

You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.

Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.

It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.

You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.

You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.

He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"

"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"

Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.

It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you.

He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"

You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.

"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day.

"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."

You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.

"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."

You can’t say no.

At least it was mutual.

#jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #kuna is a feral dog in the eyes of anyone that isn't you #you bring out the puppy love in this psycho #careful #he bites #this was a short and sweet #fluff

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swbumblebee · 6 months

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They were having a lovely cosy night. Some nonsense holodrama was on, the heater was blasting and Jedi Master and Time Traveller Plo Koon was idly scrolling through a pad contemplating a second glass of wine. From his own comfortable spot on the sofa next to him, his partner in time travel and Master of the Order Mace Windu sighed and shifted his feet of the caff table next to Plo’s own, not a moment before an alarm on his chrono went off.

Plo grunted questioningly at him, feeling uncharacteristically lazy and sleepy. The other man stretched as he stood up.

“Meeting with Cin about The Tournament” he mumbled back, gathering himself.

“Oh!”

Plo loved The Tournament. He’d missed it so much during the war, that first time round. The annual Coruscant Temple Sabre Tournament was something so special. Seeing aged Masters grumbling good naturedly trying to catch their breath, energetic young Knights teasing each other and Padawans gleefully egging each other on brought a sense of camaraderie and family that was lost forever once the war began.

“I’ll come with you” he decided, ignoring Mace’s surprised expression as he sat up with renewed vigour.

---

Plo tuned out as Mace and Cin Drallig, Battle Master extraordinaire, gestured at charts and catering costs on one of the benches in the corner of the main dojo. Neither seemed to mind his presence, Cin seemed unsurprised when they came as a pair.

While he left the boring logistics to the two senior Jedi he scrolled through the contenders list, comforted by the familiar names and intrigued by some interesting matches. It would be a lively affair.

He frowned, noticing something as he got to the Knights section.

Kab…

Kedib…

Kirin…

Krag…

He frowned further, checking the Senior Padawan section just in case.

Nope, not what he was looking for.

“Has Knight Kenobi not signed up for the tournament?” he asked loudly, interrupting the other two and not caring one bit. He got a pulse of mild irritation from Mace but interestingly, Cin simply let out a breath.

It wasn’t compulsory for every Jedi to take part in the tournament but there was certainly an obligation, particularly for Knights, to act as an example for their peers. To learn from each other and to inspire the next generation. It was just the Done Thing.

The Battle Master for the temple looked uncharacteristically perturbed.

“Kenobi…” he sat back and folded his thick arms, pausing, and Plo saw Mace’s face sharpen in stern worry.

“He’s been here… a lot, in the past few months. At funny times.” The scarred said, clearly picking his words carefully. “I’ve been helping him along, but most of the time I’m not here. I only see his name on the sign in sheet at all hours of the night.” He explained slowly.

Plo and Mace exchanged glances. That wasn’t good.

“Hmm. He didn’t sign up last year I assume, for obvious reasons” Mace asked with raised eyebrows.

Cin nodded.

“He’s changed his form since then, I’ve tried to ask him about it a couple of times but you know how he is.” He had a familiar look of exasperation on his face. Plo knew it well. When he didn’t want to, there wasn’t a force in the Galaxy that could make Obi-Wan Kenobi talk. Plo remembered it only got worse with age, to the infuriation of Sith across the galaxy that first time around.

Mace sighed and leaned back.

---

The Master of the Jedi Order cursed to himself under his breath and barely resisted the urge to grumble at nothing. He knew Obi-Wan somehow managed to function on dangerously little sleep (at all ages, apparently) but he himself had never managed to master the skill and his mood was as dark as the Courscant sky outside, at 3rd hour. Plo had offered to go, but Mace had a worrying suspicion it would end in a cuddle and a nap rather than what was necessary.

He was trying not to dwell on how suspicious he looked, loitering outside the main Dojo at this time of night, when his quarry came quietly and around the corner apparently deep in thought.

23-year-old Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi came to an abrupt and (rather comical) startled stop.

“Master!”

“Good evening, or should I say, good morning, Obi-Wan” Mace made no move to step away from the door to the dojo, but neither towards the young man in front of him.

“I…Hello there, Master. What…” the young man faltered, clearly still trying to find his footing. “What…are you doing here?” he asked cautiously.

Mace noted he definitely wasn’t at his best. Obviously not as well put together as he was in the daylight hours, there was none of the usual perceptive glint behind his eyes, his hair had obviously been pushed hurriedly into place and his robe was nowhere to be seen.

Mace shrugged.

“Shall we?” he gestured to the door behind him, entering the dojo.

Obi-Wan looked at the door dubiously before following.

“So.”

They stood in the vast hall, facing each other. Mace was very conscious they had both taken up sparring positions. So be it.

“So” he repeated calmly. “Do you want to tell me why you are practicing at this force-forsaken hour or shall I beat it out of you?” he asked politely with a smile, shifting his stance a little.

The young mans eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know what you mean Master, the Dojos are open all hours, surely encouraging practice at all hours” came the similarly polite answer.

Mace rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” He ignited his purple blade and assumed the opening stance of his favoured form, Vaapad.

“Come on then” he instructed the Knight. Obi-Wan��s eyes widened a little in surprise upon realising his mentor was serious, but then were filled with resolve as he too changed his stance.

And then immediately Mace Windu had the breath knocked out of his chest when, instead of the classic Ataru that he’d come to associate with the young Obi-Wan (indeed, the form he had become known for after using it to defeat Darth Maul) he was instead faced with the dramatic stance of Soresu.

He cursed himself, Cin had mentioned it but seeing it was something he had not been prepared for.

Lightsabre parallel to the floor and left arm extended with fingers pointing towards him, for a split second it wasn’t vulnerable, unsure Knight Kenobi Mace was seeing, it was the fearsome Master Kenobi. The Master of Soresu, and his comrade in arms. He’d seen that stance in the very worst of situations and every time it meant hope and determination.

“...Master?”

He was snapped back to the present by the slightly awkward prompt from the young man in front of him.

He grunted, trying to find his mental footing again.

“Not all of us are at our best at third hour young Obi-Wan” he grumbled, gratified when he got the ghost of a smile in response.

“Now then, let’s begin. And we will be speaking when I win” Mace warned, very clearly the Master of the Order.

Obi-Wan said nothing, his lips thinning as the match began.

---

The Master was gratified to see the young knight was panting a little as he yielded the match. Mace hadn’t won against Master Kenobi very often, in that first time around. It was good to know he still had some years left to enjoy it.

But not long, he noted. The young Knight was not there yet of course, but it he was good. Incredibly good for a Jedi of his level, using a difficult form. Mace was impressed.

“That was impressive. Very impressive Obi-Wan” he said, clapping him on the back as they both made to sit on the benches around the side of the dojo, Obi-Wan seemingly having lost the energy that fuelled his usual stubbornness, he allowed himself to be led by Mace.

“You’ve changed form.” the elder Jedi pointed out, cutting straight to the point. It was too early for beating around the munjabush.

“I have.” The young man beside him was looking at the floor as he answered. Mace felt the atmosphere in the room dip, the force tingling in his ears.

“Why?”

There was a pause. Obi-Wan kept looking at the floor.

Mace sighed.

“I hope you know, Obi-Wan, that you can tell me anything.” He said gently, projecting trust and safety at him through the force.

His young companion looked up at him with a watery smile. He took a breath.

“After Qui-Gon, after Naboo” he started slowly, seemingly choosing his words carefully “I kept trying…” he faltered, a faraway quality to his voice.

“Every time I started Ataru, I was back there behind the ray shields.” he said softly, looking down at the floor again. “After a bit of trial-and-error, it appeared to be a trigger for me, so I decided to change forms. Soresu seemed like a natural choice, I have a Padawan to defend now after all.”

Mace starred at him, finding himself once again at a loss. He knew Obi-Wan had changed forms at some point, but he’d never really given it much thought first. Lots of Knights experimented with new forms as soon as they were out of their Master’s shadow. But they generally didn’t do it incognito.

“Is that why you’ve been pushing yourself so hard? Coming here at all hours on top of everything else?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle.

His companion cleared his throat.

“It was difficult, at first. I didn’t…didn’t want anyone to know in case…” He trailed off.

Understanding dawned for Mace.

“In case you couldn’t do it.” He clarified, dismayed when he got a silent nod in return.

“Obi-Wan” Mace didn’t quite know what to say, working very hard to release his complicated emotions into the Force before the suddenly fragile man next to him picked up on them. Not least his slightly irrational anger.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t think we’d reject you or punish you because you couldn’t pick up a lightsabre.” He asked with a groan. The young man looked up at him in shock at the judgement in Mace’s tone. Giving him his answer.

“Er…”

Mace turned to him and shook his head in disbelief.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are a talented, intelligent person who is an asset to the Order in more ways than I can list at this time in the morning. You are worth far more than your warrior skill” he took a breath, taking in the bewildered and slightly alarmed face next to him. “And I am sorry that that hasn’t been made clear to you.” He finished with a gentler tone, shame swelling slightly within him.

He felt a slight tug on his bond with Plo, the other Master picking up on the maelstrom he was feeling. They’d have to meditate later.

Obi-Wan obviously didn’t know what to say, and Mace was satisfied to let the words sink in for a moment.

“Do you think, perhaps, that it might be prudent for you to speak to someone about all this?” he suggested lightly. “We have an entire wing of Mind healers for a reason, my friend.”

Obi-Wan chewed his bottom lip, looking achingly young.

“I don’t know” he said slowly. “Qui-Gon never really liked…” he trailed off again, looking at the floor.

Mace rolled his eyes.

“Yes well, Force love him he was a good friend but Qui-Gon was a complicated man and let’s be honest, could be a bit of an idiot at times” he said, making sure his fondness for his old friend was obvious, pleased when it brought another watery smile out of his young friend.

“Maybe.” He admitted.

Mace decided to take what he could get.

“Please think about it. If you like, Plo or I could go with you” he offered. This time he did get a full smile and a slight eye roll in response.

“I’m sure I can handle it Master, I’m perfectly capable-“

“I know I know!” Mace held up his hands in defence “Just the offer is there.”

He stood up.

“Now then, time for bed I think” he activated his Senior Master mode, suddenly all business. “Please stop practicing at stupid hours of the morning, you’re making Master Drallig nervous. Sign yourself up for some proper tutoring” he instructed.

“Yes Master” Obi-Wan stood with a bow of acquiescence before they moved together towards the doors.

“Oh and Obi-Wan” Mace caught him as they closed the doors and stood in the silent corridor. “Do think about signing up for the tournament. You have a lot to offer.” He suggested.

The other Jedi hesitated.

“I…I will Master” he promised with a dip of his head.

“That’s all I ask” Mace reassured.

After they separated with one final bow of goodbye, Mace leant against the cool wall in relief, letting his emotions wash over him and into the Force, with the Force equivalent of a grunt from Plo down their bond.

He’d never known about Obi-Wan’s seemingly classic case of PTSD. And the obvious fear of rejection made his unrelenting quest for perfection and independence, that first time around, make sense.

But not this time. Mace smiled. They had a long way to go, but acknowledgement and mind healers were good, and Mace and Plo would be there every step of the way. This time.

#Space Dads Go Time Travelling #Mace Windu #Plo Koon #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Knight Kenobi #Family #Fluff #careful #Mentions of #PTSD #woops sorry this one got a bit long!

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