Thinking of breakup angst with sukuna...
Thinking of the build up towards it, the way you have been fighting over the littlest things for months now
It leads you to think about how self centered he can be, how you always feel like you loved him more than he loved you and how crushing it felt to have that realisation fall upon you every time
He can be so career focused sometimes, with the long business trips, work parties, etc. always working vehemently to get higher, threatening to leave you behind
And one particular night, the argument gets so heated that you dont get a wink of sleep afterwards, only staring blankly at nothing as you try to calm the chaos in your head. Sukuna heads out without a word the next morning, and you make the final decision in your head, alone, by yourself.
By the time sukuna comes back home with the intent of reconciliation, he finds that youre packing the remainder of your belongings into a suitcase in the bedroom, ready to move out of his home.
"what the fuck is all this?" he asks, his tone coming out harsher than he means it to be.
"what do you think? i'm breaking up with you. i'm moving out," you can barely stop your voice from wavering. you've cried too much this week.
"oh, come on. you know you don't mean that," he reaches out to grab your arm, but you withdraw away from his hand so fiercely that it even surprises him.
"don't you talk to me like that," you speak firmly, "like i'm being dramatic. why won't you ever treat me seriously? i am leaving, sukuna."
you continue your work, neatly folding up some of your shirts. you're already almost finished. he looks around, and the house looks half empty.
oh. you really mean it. you're really trying to leave.
"no, you're not. you're not leaving. not after everything we've been through together," he tells you defensively, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from folding your last shirt, trying to get you to look at him again.
"like what? constantly yelling at each other until our throats are sore? i'm really sick of it. and i'm sure you are, too."
"don't put words in my mouth. i may have gotten sick of our fighting, but i've never gotten sick of you," sukuna hisses, refusing to let you continue packing your things. you feel yourself getting swayed by his words.
"well, i am. i've gotten sick of you," you say quietly through gritted teeth.
"oh yeah? say it to me properly then. look at me dead in the eyes," he demands, voice getting lower.
"you heard me. i don't need to say it again." you pull away from his grip and try to get this last shirt folded. he grabs you again, by the hand this time, and the piece of clothing unravels once more.
"no, i didn't hear shit. convince me that you really want to leave me - and i'll let you go."
in a fit of anger, you turn to face him completely, but your resolve crumbles away when you see his expression. not the one you'd assigned to him in your own mind, but his true features, under the bright bedroom lights.
he looks serious. he looks concerned. he's asking you to tell him it's not true. tell him that you want to stay.
"...let me go. i'm leaving..." you say, voice finally breaking. like a broken faucet, your eyes begin leaking tears relentlessly and your throat closes up in that painful way that you hate, but nothing compares to the pain in your heart at the thought of really breaking up with this man here and now.
he lets you go...
and calmly takes your things out of the suitcase to put them back. you didn't miss the relief in his eyes that showed up for that split second.
"bring it back! i hate you," you attempt to raise your voice, but really, it's only just your ego speaking.
"you can't even say that you hate me in the correct tone. we're not breaking up," he mutters, hanging up your coats and putting them into the closet.
having been defeated, your legs give way and you sit down on the side of the bed, sobbing.
through the blur of your tears, you watch as he meticulously goes through your suitcase, putting everything where they belong. and you sob harder. he knows too much. he arranges your creams, perfumes and accessories in the perfect order on the dresser. he spends a good fifteen minutes, putting all of your belongings back where they should be.
and by the time he gets back to you, he's like a different man. the mattress dips from his weight as he sits next to you, bringing a box of tissues with him to wipe your tears away.
"we can talk tomorrow since we're both tired today," sukuna tells you as he dabs your eyes with the tissue, "i'll take the day off."
you just sit still without responding. now that he mentioned it, the fatigue seems to fall upon you suddenly, like a brick. he coaxes you under the sheets.
soon, you find yourself in bed, in his arms. it's been a while since the two of you had cuddled so intimately. you feel oddly shy, the same way you did all those years ago when you first started dating him. there's a special kind of warmth that sukuna's body emits - and you're surrounded by it under these blankets.
"i'll try to do better... so don't go anywhere," he speaks with a softer tone.
because, it's true, he can't imagine living a life without you.
those are the last words you hear before you drift off to sleep.
the next morning, he's still in bed with you, and you're pleased to see he kept his word about taking the day off. checking the mirror, you're horrified and embarrassed about your swollen eyes from all the crying last night.
sukuna takes a look at you and chuckles without ill intent. but in your flustered state, you slap his arm until he's saying "my bad, my bad" in between laughs.
there's still some awkward tension between you and him, but going through breakfast together seems to melt some of that away, until you're ready to bring up yesterday's event.
it goes better than you'd expected, and after the discussion, the only thing that's left is to wait and see whether things will change for the better or not. whether his promises are empty or not.
"i didn't realise that you were so lonely. 'm sorry," he apologises as he plays with your hand, "i may work a lot, but you're always on my mind, doll."
it's like a huge weight off your shoulders.
and he begins to be more like his playful self again, after the talk.
"i'll need you to tell me that you love me today. since you told me you hated me yesterday," sukuna says with a smirk, hugging you from behind.
"well, you need to earn it," you shoot back, rolling your eyes.
"alright. will you say it back if i say it first?"
"sure."
"i love you."
"..."
"now that's not fair, is it?" he tickles you without mercy.
you burst out in laughter, thrashing around uncontrollably, trying to push him away.
"okay, okay! i love you!" you tell him in between breaths.
seemingly satisfied, he lets you go and pushes his face into the crook of your neck. he'll never let you go.
the following day after work, sukuna comes home earlier than usual, and he doesn't wear a grumpy expression in front of you. he greets you with a hug and kiss. it's a small gesture, but it makes you happy.
and slowly, the relationship begins to rekindle itself.
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I like the idea that after the third game, Sly and Carmelita are very physical with one another. But not in a sexual way, more like a have-been-through-way-too-much-trauma-and-need-healthy-support kind of way.
We have Sly, who at age 8 witnessed his parents violent deaths right before him, and the immense pressure of reclaiming his heritage and rebuilding his family's legacy with his two best friends/brothers he met at an orphanage.
And we have Carmelita, who's backstory is purposely ambiguous, but there is evidence that she's probably been through a lot. Especially after the events of Sly 2 take place.
After the trilogy, I have this idea that there was probably a long adjustment period for the both of them. Even if the Constable Cooper thing didn't stick or work out as is was supposed to, there was probably a steep learning curve.
Carmelita, being the attractive young woman she is, probably gets very uncomfortable when people invade her personal space unannounced. She's unfortunately used to creepy leers and attempted gropes, which usually ends in a finger or two getting broken for the opposite party.
When Sly attempts to touch her, she automatically tenses. He notices this, and he immediately backs off because he doesn't want to impose. It takes a couple of tries, but she gets accustomed to small affectionate gestures. Him holding her hand, his leg pressed against hers, etc.
Sly, on the other hand, is probably extremely touch starved. Yes, he hugged his adopted brothers and fist bumped and patted backs. But this is Carmelita, she's different. He needs to be extremely cautious, but at the same time he's longing, craving, some sort of physical contact to comfort him. He lost that privilege one fateful night as a child, and I doubt the orphanage had a good support system before Bentley and Murray.
Sly has horrible nightmares when they live together, and wakes up to Carmelita shaking him, trying to snap him out of whatever terror he's experiencing. This happens often, and one night Carmelita takes a leap of faith, and invites him to her bed. They don't do anything spicy, they just sleep curled up against each other.
They make progress as time goes on. Carmelita gradually gets used to Sly being close, whether they're sleeping in the same bed or just leaning against each other on the couch doing whatever they're doing. Sly adapts to the space that Carmelita invited him in, he knows where the lines are and knows what is okay and not okay.
They learn new things about each other every day. One afternoon when Sly is curled against Carmelita on the couch as she flips through case files, she hears him purr. She didn't know he could even do that. Another morning Sly wakes up before Carmelita, and notices that her legs twitch occasionally when she's asleep in their bed, as if she was having a running dream. He finds it adorable.
It becomes second nature for them. They stroke each other's tail fur without a second thought, they scratch each other behind the ears, they nuzzle, etc.
And it hits Carmelita one day that she loves Sly. It hits her like a freight train. His touch isn't letcherous or lustful; it's tender, its loving. He loves her not because she's good looking, but because it's her. And she knows he feels the same way, because otherwise he wouldn't get her favorite order from the take out restaurant a few streets down or remember what shampoo she likes the most.
Sly already knows that she loves him too. She subconsciously purchases his tea brand of choice when she's at the store, and puts on a jazz playlist for him in the background when he's making dinner for both them.
And as they lay in their bed one autumn night, it stuns Carmelita. That the thief she once despised, the criminal that gave her so many headaches after his heists, is cuddled there with her. That he would literally take a bullet for her, and that he already had. And if someone tried to bust into their home right then and there with malicious intent, she would shoot them without remorse.
And she wraps her arms around her sleeping ex-criminal, listening to him breathe, and swears that she'll never let him go.
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