Unspoken Bond One-shot | Husband!sukuna X Wife!reader

Unspoken Bond one-shot | husband!sukuna x wife!reader

Summary: Sukuna gets into a motorcycle accident and forgets who you are.

Genre: modern au, 18+, established relationship, memory-loss, fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Fic warnings: ooc, profanity, sexually suggestive language

a/n: tysm to @univocalbaby for the idea!!!!

It’s the eighth day Sukuna’s been in the hospital following his motorcycle accident. You were thankful he lived through it and only broke a leg, but he’s unfortunately suffering from short term memory loss according to the doctor. 

You haven’t been around him while he’s been awake yet. The only time he really was awake was when he briefly came to consciousness shortly after he arrived at the hospital. 

You aren’t 100% clear on what had happened because you were going through every single emotion when the doctor was telling you, but apparently he woke up confused and tried to fight everyone that was on staff that night.. which led to them sedating him.

Multiple times. 

Bless his heart, he probably deserved it given the fact that there’s been hospital security sitting outside the room 24/7 after that incident occurred. You only hoped the next time he woke up, he’d be a little calmer, more open to hearing out the nurses and doctors around him rather than trying to pummel them, again.

You’ve stayed by his side for the most part, only leaving the hospital room for an hour or two at a time to go shower or take a walk. You’ve also gone to his favorite bakery to grab his favorite donuts every morning in hopes that he’d wake up to something freshly made, although he has yet to do so. 

You’re starting to think they gave him a horse tranquilizer, and just by looking at your big brute of a husband, you completely understand.

Luckily, the staff had no problem taking the sweets off your hands at the end of each night, you’re sure it also softened them up towards him as well. 

Turns out the patient from hell on floor 27 has a sweet wife, so he can’t be that bad, right?

It’s currently 11:27 am and you decide to tidy up his room a bit. Some of the flowers that were first sent to him have begun to die, so you do away with those. You also try to clear up the counters and floor as much as you can. 

Sukuna was quite the clean freak, even though he’s never complained or gotten mad at you for random clutter around the house, you just decide to clean up because you know it’ll bring him some clarity when he eventually does wake up. 

Right when you finish, you hear a grouchy little ‘ahem’ from across the room and you can’t help but hold back laughter when you turn around to look at your husband who’s obviously been awake and watching you for quite some time now. 

You don’t know if you’re just happy to see him awake or if it’s from the way he’s glaring absolute daggers at you, unable to move because one of his leg’s in a cast and propped up in a sling that’s hanging from the ceiling. 

He clearly doesn’t remember who you are and you’re genuinely curious to see where it’ll go from here because he was a bit of an asshole when you first met him.

“You’re awake,” you offer him a smile as you walk up to him and you can tell Sukuna is trying so fucking hard to not stare at your chest, because you are a stranger to him at the moment.

“And who are you?” He huffs out, most likely offended that you didn’t notice he was awake until he made it known.

“Your wife,” you say. The moment you tell him that he actually does look at your tits, almost believing you.

“Real cute, sweetheart,” he waves you off and looks out the window. “I don’t have one.” 

“Yes, you do.” You giggle at how quick he was to dismiss your claims. It reminded you a lot of how snippy he was with you before you started dating– when he tried to convince himself and others around him that he didn’t like you even though he did.

“No, I don’t,” he sounds so sure of himself as he crosses his arms and leans back to look at you, a little smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. 

You can tell he’s trying to flex his muscles in front of you– funny how the car accident wiped away his memory, but not his arrogance. 

But you can’t complain too much, you married this asshole. 

You also know him well enough to know the little smirk on his face could only lead to one thing, which is just ridiculous since he had just woken up. 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” his voice was seducingly low as he began to basically undress you with his eyes. 

“Oh yeah?” You raised your brows. “What is it that I'm trying to do then?” You consider crossing your arms as well but you already know he’d continue to stare at the focal point of your low-cut shirt. 

“You’re just another volunteer trying to fuck a patient,” he sneered. You nearly choke on air because he genuinely thinks that’s what happening right now— never failing to remind you how much of an idiot he can be sometimes. “Last time I checked, that’s against HIPAA.” 

“I don’t think you’ve ever checked HIPAA at all, because that would not be the case here,” you groaned, shaking your head. 

“And now you’re calling me stupid, you are never stepping foot in this hospital again.” He promises.

“I never called you that— what are you doing Kuna?” 

He reached for the red button next to his bed and pressed it while holding eye contact with you, menacingly. “Nurse! There’s a little volunteer girl in my room that’s sexually harassing me.” 

You stood there in absolute disbelief over how quick he was to snitch on you and it made you realize just how good you had it when he did remember he was married to you. 

“You’re quite bold, you know that?” He says, smiling as he rests his head on the palm of his hand. “If you had just been a little nicer after getting caught, I would’ve given you my number. You’re actually pretty fuckin’ hot.” He concludes.

“Yeah? You probably don’t even remember it,” you spat back and you’re pretty sure he didn't, judging by the way he scoffed at you and looked back out the window. 

He’s probably trying to remember it right now, but to no avail. 

“Mr. Ryomen? Is everything okay?” A nurse hurriedly rushed into the room shortly after he tattled on you. 

“That’s her,” he points his finger at you. “Take that box away from her and get her out of here.”  

“Mr. Ryomen!” The nurses hissed at him, remembering how he brutalized one of her colleagues when he first got here. “Do not speak about your wife like that, she has been worried sick since you got here!”

You completely stopped trying to explain yourself once she came to your defense, thank god you decided to give the staff the donuts rather than just throwing them away. Sukuna also quickly realized how badly he had fucked up because not only were you his hot wife, but now you were also mad at him. 

To his surprise, you ended up staying after the doctor explained everything that’s happened to him— which might as well be a punishment in itself since you barely spoke to him after that.

And it’s awkward seeing him trying to talk to you because he knows how much of an asshole he was being and he was honestly as nervous as he was when he was on his first date with you.

He did, however, “accidentally” drop the tv remote on the ground— making you grab it for him because he was looking at you with puppy-dog eyes, ultimately breaking the ice between you two because you felt bad for ignoring him.

You didn’t hand the remote back to him though and instead scooted your chair closer to his bed so you could lean your head against it. “Do you even like the show you’re watching right now?” 

“Not really,” he shyly admits before clearing his throat. “Will you put on something I like? Please?” 

“Of course,” you giggled and the sweetness in your voice made his chest flutter. 

“What’s in the box you brought?” He nodded towards the counter in the corner of the room.

“Your favorite donuts,” you gave him a smile, remembering how he had tried to have them confiscated from you before kicking you out of the room all together. “I’ll give you one if you can actually remember what your favorite flavor is.” 

“Not fucking fair,” he nearly lunged out of the hospital bed but was stopped by the cast on his leg. “Hand over the fucking box.”

“Nope. You never even apologized for trying to kick me out.”

“Fine, I’m sorry.” He says rather boyishly and glares at you for having the audacity to smile at his suffering. 

You thought it was funny, what a sick woman you were.

You get up from your seat to grab the box in the corner of the hospital room. Before you sat back down on the chair, he had already scooted over as much as possible and patted the side of the bed so you’d sit with him instead. 

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he murmurs to himself the moment you opened the box in front of him. 

“What? These are your favorite!” You remind him, even though he really wouldn’t know until he actually tried one. 

“Mine or yours?” He picks one up and looks at the pink, sprinkled donut with disgust. “You’re messing with me.” 

“Am not,” you rip a bite-sized piece off the donut and try to feed him, but he just stares at you– looking extremely skeptical. “C’mon just try it, I wouldn’t bring you anything you wouldn’t like.” 

He quickly gives in because he honestly can’t say no to you. 

And instead of admitting you were right and that he did like it, he instead asked you to feed him the rest because he remembered he was your husband and it was okay to ask you to do that. You were happy to do so of course, especially with him going back to his soft self. 

For a moment, he couldn’t believe how easy it was for you to just.. take care of him. 

Wiping the glaze from the side of his mouth, asking him how his stomach was feeling, rubbing his arm as he told you that he was feeling fine, you looking happy with the fact that he was feeling fine. 

He doesn’t remember much about his life right now, but there was something deep down that knew what he had with you was something he’s spent his life searching for. 

The fact that he just woke up one day to this was a shock to say at the least. 

“How long have we been married?” He felt bad for asking, but wanted to know more about you. 

“It’ll be 4 years 6 months from now. And we’ve been together for a total of 5 years.” you tell him and watch the wheels turn in his head. 

“Wait– we got married that soon?!” He was baffled as he asked you to clarify. 

“Yes we did,” you giggled at his reaction, it was how everyone else reacted. “You were the one who insisted. You got me this big rock too to make it even more convincing,” you remind him as you showed him the ring he proposed to you with. 

He took your hand and inspected the ring. He didn’t remember how much he spent on it and honestly didn’t ever want to know because it was fucking huge. 

“Your hands are soft,” he absent-mindedly mumbles to himself as he starts to rub your knuckles with his thumb. “Tell me more about us.” 

And you do, for the next 4 hours. 

30 minutes into the story telling, he got you to fully lay down with him on the hospital bed with your head on his chest, caressing your back because it honestly just felt natural for him to do so. 

And about an hour in, he’s fully comfortable with you– laughing at all the fucked up stories you had of him that a normal person really shouldn’t be laughing at. But he was anything but normal.

After the 4 hours, he starts to fucking flirt with you because that also came naturally to him. You tell him he’s disgusting and make fun of his broken leg. 

Your eyes then roll in the back of your head after he cheekily tells you that his leg was very much broken, “but this dick isn’t”. 

And his memory might be gone for now, but neither of you were worried in the slightest. The chemistry was always there. You say you’ve known each other for five years, but after just spending five hours with you, he feels as if he’s known you his whole life. 

Even if he were to never regain his memory again, you two weren’t going anywhere– your souls knew who they belonged to at the end of the day and that’s all that really mattered.

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